Last month, I noticed that one of my neighbors, a fit-looking woman in her early to mid-thirties that resides on the fifth floor in my building, had been walking with a significant limp. Climbing up and down five flights of stairs appeared to be agony for her. Curious and concerned, I asked her what had happened, anticipating a story about some terrible accident she suffered.
Upstairs Neighbor: It’s so embarrassing. I was sitting down, I got up, and I somehow stood on it funny. It’s been hurting me ever since. I’m going to the doctor.
My initial thought was:
Me (thinking): She’s about twenty years younger than me, she’s slender and in shape. If something freak like that can happen to her, what might happen to me if I sit down and get up funny? Could I break a leg?
I said:
Me: I hope you get well soon.
She thanked me, we parted ways and I made a mental note:
Me: This is a warning sign that you absolutely, positively, no ifs, ands, or buts must start working out again.
Then, I resumed my sluggish ways. A few days later, it felt like a sleeping squirrel had woken out of a sound slumber behind my right kneecap and was trying to make a break for it with its sharp teeth. In other words, it was a strange sensation that hurt. Since the weather was also pleasant I refused to let my discomfort force me to stay housebound. I simply had to leave my hovel and take a walk; I had to make an effort to burn off some flab (famous last words).
There I was, dragging my hobbled right leg up West 84th Street toward Columbus Avenue, when I encountered a delightful display of outdoor art produced by children attending P.S. 9.
P.S. 9 entrance.
I was so intrigued with their witty and entertaining sculptures I completely forgot about whatever it was gnawing at me from behind my kneecap.
Atomic Hula
Who knew that just looking at imaginative kid art would be therapeutic?
Room for Art
I hope whatever was lurking behind my kneecap will continue to forget about me.
Pin Art
Yes, clothes pins.
If only looking at art could gift me with fitness, but I suppose I shouldn’t grouse, at least I didn’t need to ride an ambulance home.
Three Musicians
Three Musicians detail straight from the Bed Bath and Beyond kitchen accessories collection.
Meanwhile, check out more of the whimsical kid art that may or may not be packed with magical healing power.
Faces in the Crowd (made from plates)
Sock Monster (or where lost tube socks go).
Refuse to grow up and write a blog.
Lame Adventures 