3000 Miles From Home
Girl Finds Art and Friendship Without Rejecting Her Family
New York City Has a Museum of Ice Cream.
She was late. I knew where I was going for once. It was the classic indie theater on the corner of Houston and Mercer Streets. Off the F train for me. The D train for her. A 4-minute walk from the Museum of Ice Cream. My friend Anna had been taking a 12-week-long ceramics class, during which she had been making beautiful pots of various sizes and dotted glazes and photographing them for the internet. I figured this was why she suggested we see this particular film. I entered the theater alone and started munching on my popcorn. I consider it bad form to munch once the movie begins. Showing Up begins with opening credits. A xylophone-like score enters the theater from all directions as the camera scans watercolor sketches and a row of arm-sized clay figurines kicking up their heels and bending their fingers like claws. The sculptor seems to be in flow, furrowing her brow and cocking her head like a dog trying to get a better listen. Pigeons coo through the half-opened door to the …