Outing #1: Let's Go Make and Fly a Kite! by Linn Edwards and Brian Bell

Saturday, October 3rd: “Let’s Go Make and Fly a Kite” is facilitated by Brooklyn artists Linn Edwards and Brian Bell. After traveling to Floyd Bennett Field, New York’s first municipal airport on the southeastern shore of Brooklyn, participants will construct kites from recycled plastic bags and sticks, attempt to fly them, have a picnic, and explore the hangars and runways in the community park. The outing will be documented with video and photographs.

All week there was a threat of rain for Saturday. But our spirits weren't dampened! Linn and Brian were willing to slog it out, Benjamin Franklin style. As it panned out, we timed it all well, and missed the rain completely, save for the clogged ride home.

Uncharacteristically, I arrived at Linn and Brian's Lefferts Gardens apartment on time at 11:00 am, anticipating the beginning of this whole project. We were joined by Luna, a small medium-sized dog whose owner was in Italy (and who has been under my care for a week). Linn and Brian were armed with photo and video cameras and supplies for the outing. Fortunately, they are used to taking photographs of everything so I didn't have to struggle with a camera while driving. Half of the photos in this blog are by them.

Floyd Bennett Field is at the southeastern tip of Brooklyn, just before a bridge that crosses into southern Queens territory. As a defunct airfield, there are vast stretches of concrete runways, some of which are overgrown with plant life. Mostly, it's an unrestricted driving zone. You can do donuts in concentric circles if you have a mind to do so. We saw a teen learning how to drive a minivan, hot rods, and a training course for parking ticket cops in those odd little vehicles.

After a walk on the beach (we were excited to remember we live near a beach), we continued to explore the multi-faceted Floyd Bennett Field. It's a place where women feed pigeons, large men fly radio-controlled model airplanes, and Russian photographers bring their stick-thin Russian models. There is one accessible bathroom. Soon we got to business with making the kites out of plastic shopping bags.

As it turned out, we made only one. It was a group effort. The instructions were mostly useful, except on the subject of string. The importance of the string was emphasized, yet we couldn't make out what we were to do with it in order to help the kite fly. 

Flummoxed, we broke for lunch on the beach.

More exploring lead us to the museum the National Park Service maintains, which was very casual and un-New-York-ish. 

After passing through a gesture at a museological treatment of the airfield, we entered a hangar full of fully accessible Vietnam-era planes being restored by gregarious volunteers. Also memorable was a visitor who walked in with an 8-foot snake wrapped around him.

Choosing a strip of concrete frequented by the teen in the minivan, Brian experimented with the wind and the string while Linn ran Luna around. We decided several things were wrong with the construction: the dowels were too heavy and didn't flex enough, the kite wasn't aerodynamically cut, and we didn't know what we were doing. But that didn't stop us from trying to fly it; it's all in the trying

and pretending it worked 

 

and trying...


Satisfied with our efforts, we drove around some more and found a sports complex, a second sighting of the Russian wedding photographer and his venus (the duet made us a bit queasy) in front of the visitor-center-to-be, and a very large semi-exclusive community garden. As we wandered and wondered about the type of people who became members, what the surrounding social activities were, and the individuality expressed by each plot, I distractedly let go of the dog leash and was firmly reprimanded by a disembodied voice. Time to go!

On the rainy return trip, Linn and Brian tried to convince me to hold on to the Iron Maiden. So much fun! The places to explore! As I drove, looking out through a slightly impossible windshield because the wipers failed a few months ago and I haven't had the money or time to fix them, I wondered at their suggestion. Which seems the crux of this project: knowing I have to let go but constantly being reminded of the benefits. But really, it wouldn't have been half as much fun without Linn and Brian and Luna. I know not to give them up.