It seems like there’s some ginormous neo-Gothic church on every other corner in Harlem. But I liked these little churches that are tucked into the blocks.

You’ll see a lot of the brownstone churches painted white like this to show where the sinning stops.

They all have really awesome handpainted signs and their own little character quirks.

The Church of the People had a nice yellow theme going.

This one was amazing, housed in an old stable.

I guess what they say is true: You really can find God everywhere.

More Harlem and elsewhere.

I swear, it was like a rainforest in Central Park yesterday.

Everything is blooming.

When the sun cut through the clouds the ground sizzled.

The Sheep Meadow was covered in hundreds of robins. All hopping around, chirping and snacking.

This guy came out looking for a snack, too. He was completely oblivious to my presence.

Afterwards I stopped by here to practice my new routine to “I’m Coming Out,” as usual. Later I was surprised to learn the story behind the Diana Ross Playground had to do with another rainy day in Central Park.

More supreme shots.

When I lived in Hollywood my address was followed by 1/2. Everyone always asked, what does that mean, you got half of an apartment? You know, like a John Malkovich kind of thing.

The houses located on Dennett Place in Carroll Gardens get full integer addresses, but half doors.

Are you just supposed to duck when you go through them?

Or are they secret portals that lead into another person’s subconscious? Thanks to Sarah for pointing out this small wonder.

More one-size-fits-all Brooklyn.

A lot of people have asked me what I’m listening to as I walk around New York. The answer is nothing, because I prefer the rapturous sound of the city. But I realized today there are some songs that keep popping into my head as I walk. Please don’t make fun of me.

“The Breaks,” Kurtis Blow
There’s a scene in Beautiful Losers where Steve Powers is talking about coming to Manhattan for the first time in the 80’s and he turns a corner and boom! There’s a police car on fire. Then this song starts playing. Not that I’m an advocate for violence or vandalism, but sometimes I walk around New York wishing I could see something like that.

“Around the World,” Daft Punk
Good driving beat. But for some reason I can never remember the lyrics.

“N.Y.C.,” from the musical Annie
A lesser-known song from the musical that was not featured in the movie (but it was featured in the 1999 remake). I know it because I probably listed to the album by the original Broadway cast every day until I hit puberty (and let’s be serious, quite often after that, too). My entire life, Annie is how I envisioned New York—even though it took place during the Depression. I was like, whoa, living in New York sucks but Daddy Warbucks’ place looks pretty sweet.

“Walking on the Moon,” The Police
One day I was thinking, so, what are some songs about walking, anyway? And this was the first that came to mind.

Ghostbusters original score, Elmer Bernstein
This is another movie that introduced me to New York when I was a kid. There are so many locations featured in the film that I walk by one almost every day. And they still freak me out. The Ray Parker, Jr. song didn’t stick in my head, but the rest of the instrumental music that plays throughout the movie did. I didn’t know that Elmer Bernstein did the score! Amazing!

“Living for the City,” Stevie Wonder
Another nice driving beat, appropriate for illustrating my plight to succeed in urban life.

“To Be Real,” Cheryl Lynn
Oh, come on! Like you haven’t sung that to yourself before.

“Yeah,” Usher
I am pretty sure this stems from my first trip to Europe in 2004 where I was shocked to learn that no matter where you go in the world, everyone is listening to the same damn song. From then on it has been burned in my brain whenever I’m walking somewhere new.

“Time to Pretend,” MGMT
This is one of the best songs of the year, period. The hook is like my pump-up song in the morning.

“This Is It,” Kenny Loggins with Michael McDonald
Make no mistake where you are.

Isn’t it amazing? I snapped these shots of water falling at several locations in Brooklyn today. Oh, and also, Olafur Eliasson’s Waterfalls were switched on.

As soon as I started riding over there it started pouring. As the rain pelted my face, I thought wow, this must be exactly what it feels like under the Brooklyn Bridge!

A new park opened, too, to get people even more pumped for water-watching. Perhaps the rain was all part of the city’s promotional plan?

From what I could gather here, they were using hay bales as planters. It looked like they cut holes out of the hay and dropped soil in with the plants. But why? It’s a great idea but I’m guessing there’s more thought behind it than that. Do tell!

Andean raspberry and corn (yes, corn!) from Cones. They put a little dusting of cinnamon on the corn.

This is the real deal. Hazelnut and coffee at Sal’s in Carroll Gardens. Where they don’t need those pretty cups or spoons, no sir.

This made absolutely no sense. Two rows of perfectly good looking gelato were behind the glass. Usually “trouble with the freezer” means that you need to give it away as fast as you can for free, which is exactly what they should be doing. As I explained this logic to the woman behind the counter she looked at me as if I was the kind of person who is just crazy enough to have a blog named after gelato.

More craziness.

There are several rules you are tacitly agreeing to just by swinging open the vault-like door of the snow-white, ice-cold crypt of design that is Moss. The first rule, of course, is that you will not, under any circumstances, touch anything. Your children—and please take a moment to hang your head in shame for bringing them along in the first place—must be held at all times. And do remember that you are risking possible ejection should you even think about eating or drinking anywhere near items like Melissa Dixson’s taxidermied canis lupus.

Murray Moss has been known to bend the rules on that last one for his parties, serving only innocuous, quarter-filled glasses of white wine (which I whined about during the Los Angeles store opening). Still, each time a glass falls to the concrete floor—even with the design-conscious it’s bound to happen—I see him wince, or perhaps that’s the secret signal to dispatch the team of minions who quickly sweep away all memory of shattered glass, Men In Black-style.

Last night at Moss it was, at first blush, the same old scene. Philippe Starck and Sam Nazarian were there to hype their new SLS Hotels, in which Moss will have a store. Starck smiled, Nazarian shmoozed, glasses shattered, Moss winced, minions dispatched, but something was…different.

Moss served food.

Of course, this being Moss, he still wanted to curate the experience. That’s why if you wanted caviar wrapped in proscuitto, chef José Andrés had to prepare it for you.

Which meant placing it directly on your tongue.

We were allowed to self-administer other items like black squid ink olives. (No idea if these were actually olives or ink, by the way.)

Scallops in yuzu were delightfully citrusy without being too scalloppy.

Little plastic pouches of watermelon juice had grilled shrimp attached. Like a ceviche injection?

They called this a Spanish omelette. Eggs whipped to the consistency of clouds.

They said: Bagels and lox. I said: Caviar ice cream cones.

“Airbread” was balloons of dough, stuffed with some pretty intense cheese and that mouth-watering proscuitto.

And of course, your own personal mojito atomizer for a spritz between bites.

Moss even ventured into drinks of color, serving these orange gelatinous martinis. Some klutz near me ended up breaking one of those. After roughing her up a bit, they let her stay.

On the way out I was sure to thank the lovely Gita, who does PR for Moss. The food was amazing, I told her, and I took lots of pictures. “Good,” she said. “Because it’s never happening again.”

As I’ve mentioned here before, I love love love the work of Chris Burden. This is his latest installation at Rockefeller Center, What My Father Gave Me.

Yes, it is a model of the GE Building, rendered in over a million replicated Erector set parts.

And get this: Chris Burden’s dad was an engineer. So it all makes sense.

More photos, please.

The signage at Rockefeller Plaza is probably some of the most amazing lettering I’ve ever seen in my life.

Commendably, it looks like they’ve managed to keep a lot of it intact.

The escalators are old and super tiny, and from so long ago that people actually used the word ‘grasp.’ Thanks to CJ for the great tour.

More shots.

I see things all the time and I’m so shocked they’re happening I forget to take a picture. Like when this cement truck rolled by. Have you ever seen one so beautifully decorated? It wasn’t even owned by Wonder Bread.

Ran into this guy tickling the ivories in Bryant Park. When I took out my camera he winked at me.

The installation in the windows at Louis Vuitton captivated me for at least 35 minutes.

Say what you will about Apple or Steve Jobs’ haircut. The Fifth Avenue store is pretty freaking awesome in person.

This was painted on the wall of an awesome bar on 48th Street, Channel Four. Of course Al was all cool and signed the mural with a sunny smiley face. But what I like is next to Katie Couric’s signature where she asks “What happened to my body?” Katie, let Al be the star! He’s the one who lost all the weight!