just some glimpses of New York

...most important to get him down there and see it. We exit the Fulton station to find Nothing where the towers used to be. David is disoriented. We spend a long time looking and praying into the gap...

...forgot the traffic was so loud, 2nd avenue at 3 AM doesn't care if I can't sleep, and frankly neither do I. I am home...

...I roll over to look out the window, and snow is falling like fat faeries to the ground. I spend an hour in the sleepless morning letting them hypnotize my eyes. It is just me and the city in this moment, with husband breathing heavily in a deep pact with sleep at my side. The snow begins to stick, masking the gum-pocked sidewalks and generally making quite a spectacle of itself. I know the New Yorkers are sick of it by now, it's been a hard winter, but this snow is for me and husband. I know it...

...snowballs at my back, and cuban-spiced soup with old friends. Jonathan still sits in the shadows, laughing at the family he created...

...sitting under Rockefeller, watching the snow collect on the ice and the pretty girl who always has to do the spins in the middle of the rink...

...and now Tori, she's gleaming in silver and we watch her from the extreme left. Radio City glimmers, all the light is golden. Tear in Your Hand and husband and arms to the domed ceiling, everyone is standing...

...and finally the Guggenheim, and this Matthew Barney fellow and his Cremaster, oh my. Salmon and mint, vaseline and eggs, and Jacobin pigeons. I don't know what I'm supposed to get from this, but I'm haunted. Mainly I want to climb the walls of the museum, like Mr. Barney did. Then a room where buildings speak to each other and tell their stories in light. Suddenly I realize that seeing art is something that's been missing from my life. We go to the Cloisters and the Met, things you just don't do when you live here. Inspiration...

...the Strike, but Jesse's show goes on. He's funny and older and has had a song written just for him. I wonder if he realizes. Sitting in a pub with striking Broadway actors. I could have been one of you. What am I now? Something darker...

...CB's is comfortable and warm, people are whistful. Our friends Milton and The Benjamin Cartel seem to be riding the dove tonight: they are amazing. Ben pulls a head mic out and starts performing from his drum set and the whole room is on fire. It's the first time I've seen him this way. Plans for more touring...

...midnight photo shoot at Kari's, David looking like god and me in a peach number. There's a bed, and a mantle, and a lot of sexual energy. Kari knows how to get the shot. Can't wait to see what the camera saw. Her art is taking her somewhere beautiful...

...so much walking. It's Sunday and we'll have to leave. We don't want to think about it, so we walk Central Park. Bethesda still lives, as doggies and boxers play in her fountain...

...and now it is goodnight, New York, and trying not to regret. I'll be back for you.


1 Comments:

I'm so depressed to have missed your visit to NYC, guys. I knew you were coming, but I got the weeks mixed up. My heartfelt apologies, Adriana, I really wanted to hear you sing again.

We'll have to catch up soon.

Take care.
xoxox

Jennifer

PS - I love your webpage. Your thoughts are really honest and beautiful.

Jennifer | Homepage | 03.13.03 - 12:57 pm

By Blogger adriana, at Tuesday, October 02, 2007 5:02:00 PM  

Post a Comment

Thursday, March 13, 2003 : 10:33 AM     1 Comments  




 

Subscribe to
Posts [Atom]

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?