Sunday, February 23, 2014

A long December... and January and February

So much has happened.

With that said, every task has to start somewhere. I have so much to write about Asia, and boyfriend and I's little transitional trek around the US, and now about the wondrous beauty that is New York City. But, I think I'll go backwards and start now. Then, I can peel back the missing time over the summer (and I say summer because it is literally going to take me all summer to write out the adventures in Asia...I just hope that I will remember all the really special ones at least).

I'm living in Brooklyn - with this wonderful little lady. At a stop off the Q/B train named Sheepshead bay. Sheepshead is a type of fish believe it or not. And my apartment is near the beach. I can smell it just a bit - but I haven't walked there yet. Maybe tomorrow.

I like using the word "train" to talk about the NYC subway system. That's what the locals call it. Appropriate, because it is a train. I wonder where the word subway came from, really. Subterranean I guess...but so many of the subways are above ground. Regardless, I have now added "jumping on the train" and "the __ stop off the __ train" to my vocabulary. It feels good. For years, I've said New York was my favorite place. Well, except Diego...but that's different. Diego is my beveled tumbler glass that holds the perfect amount of pepsi and milk to quench my thirst but keep me from burping. New York is an Irish Imperial pint glass that holds plenty for a buzz and a long conversation about Saturn, or the Evil Dead. It's just huge, and fun.

I love the pizza, and the sky. The other night it was perfect prussian blue. I mean, squirted from the tube. People say you miss the stars in big cities, but can I tell you what the sky looks like without one single star? How can you not dare to be different when that vast emptiness is glaring down at you every evening. I just want to fill it up with hope and ideas. I imagine it's a mirror sometimes and everyone here can see everyone here and they are all interesting. There are no boring people in New York. If you keep your ears and eyes peeled, you'll have a new story to tell just about every single day. I could be Basquiat tomorrow. Why not make art on the street? Everything else happens there.