Category: The Highline

I am used to walking around buildings that are too tall to see where they end, however I am not used to being on a level where I can see all of the environment surrounding the building, the people working in their offices, and bathtubs being installed (something you can’t see at museums). It is this unnatural state of something you are so familiar with that can be very powerful to a person viewing a piece of art. On the High Line we see the city in a new perspective and we become the tourists we judge on 14st street for being amazed at how tall a building is. I usually don’t like looking up to see how tall the buildings are because I feel lost and consumed by all of it. However, on the High Line it felt as if the buildings were eye level and I felt apart of it instead of someone trapped in a maze of tall buildings (until I looked down the stairs and realized I was scared of heights). I didn’t feel as if I was only viewing the art or it was only viewing me, but that we were making eye contact.

I won’t lie, this time; I’m not that tall. In fact, most everyone I currently know is either marginally shorter than me, or noticeably not at my eye level, but the focus of the walk is not just about who’s next to you. It’s about where you are, and where that place takes you. Towering skyscrapers above don’t make me feel inferior, and the minuscule passerby below don’t grant superiority, rather a view of dimension from in between. A different angle; a high line of sight, unbeknownst to those not standing on that forested path through cemented steel jungle. All is stationary to the eye focused on the path, not its end. The path has a life of its own, and a front row spectacle of your appreciation of its existence, and continued allowance of immersion. A museum may hold many interpretations, but a journey in one direction, open to many others, has the potential to lead oneself somewhere…

For today’s episode of G’s honest and thought provoking blog postings, we’ll be discussing the very important question of whether bigger is really better. Why do all my short girl friends (shorter than me and I’m SHORT) want a guy that’s over 6 feet tall? Honey, you ain’t even gonna see his face!

Of course, art isn’t much different than love interests. Just like how a girl is consumed by the height of her boy toy, I feel like art consumes me, especially if it’s big (which isn’t rare since I am rather small). An example would be the London Terrace Apartments, whose dimensions and seemingly endless windows seem to watch and judge me. My virtual tour did no justice to the actual size of it, especially since I viewed it from ground level (because I was a noob and didn’t make it on the High Line, thanks for noticing) and because I was thinking of how the dude who created the apartments jumped off those buildings (which sounds cooler than dying peacefully in a hospital bed, right?)

Most importantly (I need an answer, please): do I like him, or is he just tall?

I’m not a tall person. In fact, I’m pretty short. When I was younger, I was constantly aware of this fact. I still am, but not nearly as much as I used to be. People always told me I was short. I thought it made me less of a person, that things in life would be harder for me. I thought I’d never get a girlfriend, I’d never succeed in physical activity, or that everything would require more effort. But soon I proved myself wrong. I’ve won races and sports games before, had girlfriends, and was able to everything that anyone else could. As I began to realize that being short wasn’t so bad (when it rains, the rain hits me last) I started to wonder “What is size?”

When we took a trip to the highline, it was cool being up close to the buildings, and they seemed a teeny bit shorter than they normally appear. However, even though they appeared shorter, to me, the “size” was still the same. Sure physically the buildings looked shorter from on the highline, but what it was was still the same. What made the building “big” was not its height, but the teamwork, labor, resources, and overall effort put into building the building to be that tall. What makes someone “tall” is not their height or width. What makes them a bigger person is what they’ve achieved, the people they care for, and the kind things they done. Someday, I hope to be a “bigger” person as well.