It’s been a minute since I last created a post. I kept writing them and holding them as drafts, mainly because they were too personal to post. I went down to Florida a week ago to give my final goodbye to a very close friend that passed away in February and haven’t been able to think of much else in the past several weeks.
I woke up this morning feeling inspired for some reason. I was dreaming about NYC… similar to all of my dreams growing up, only this time I woke up to the reality. I started thinking how different the reality of NYC is from dreams and perceptions.
What is NYC?
It’s that tingle of hope you feel that your destiny to meet someone incredible while walking down a busy street is about to come true in an accidental, albeit destiny-driven, bump of the shoulders. Only to find your white new blouse coffee-stained and the new acquaintance spilling profanities in your direction as they stir off to attend to their busy schedule.
It’s that deep breath of fresh air you take at the first sign of spring only to inhale a large cloud of cigarette smoke.
It’s that hope of light you feel towards the mass of people constantly surrounding you with their hopes and dreams and smiles only to watch hatred pour from their hearts towards others unlike themselves.
It’s that moment of joy you feel for a community of peace and love as they celebrate their new gained rights to marry only to find piss splashing onto the back of your foot.
It’s that extreme appreciation you get after months of struggling to find your dream home and finally settling in only to find a rather decent sized tailed creature roaming the alleyways of your kitchen; leaving pools of contaminated yellow pee for you to step into.
It’s that glorious relief you feel when you’ve survived the treacherous long winter days of slush and frozen air only to find a severe lack of sunlight.
It is a feeling of unconditional love towards a city that is unlike no other. No other in a sense that it challenges every bit of your sanity, the cornerstone of your beliefs, every inch of physical being, and still manages to exist with such beauty and remarkable magic that you simply fall in love despite the bumps and bruises.
It knocks you down, it punches you in the gut so hard you forget it even happened.
Here are some iphone bits of my NYC:
A NYC 1st time screening of 7 Chinese Brothers on a rooftop in Brooklyn. Q/A with Jason Schwartzman & Olympia Dukakis.
Drunk Shakespeare. Exactly what it sounds (no, not just the audience).
My buddy Terry killing it at the Blue Note.
Just took a walk during my work day and came across this gallery.
My work desk.
My neighborhood is filled with some epic stuff.
A gathering of about 5,000 people in Brooklyn to share food ❤
