i left my cell phone in a cab today outside the whitney, and by some miracle a very kind guy was able to meet me at a bar on the upper east side to return it.
New York, like Paris, is conceptualized in terms of one's proximity to a subway stop: take the train to 87th, walk over a few blocks, turn south and walk down some more. at some point i stop taking everything in to focus on my destination. street corners blur together, cabs honk and swerve without identity, random strangers meet eachother's glances - smile, scowl.
i realize what i crave about New York is the sense of utter possibility of having an audience, sharing art, n'importe quand, n'importe où. people, faces drift through the city like singularly unique cirrus clouds, somehow crystallized yet mobile. maybe that's why people stare so openly on the train: they are finally able to focus on a single face, to register the harmonious (or un-) features so artfully combined - the way people comport themselves is endlessly fascinating, from incredibly think eyebrows to a proad emasculating squaring of the shoulders.
New York, like Paris, is conceptualized in terms of one's proximity to a subway stop: take the train to 87th, walk over a few blocks, turn south and walk down some more. at some point i stop taking everything in to focus on my destination. street corners blur together, cabs honk and swerve without identity, random strangers meet eachother's glances - smile, scowl.
i realize what i crave about New York is the sense of utter possibility of having an audience, sharing art, n'importe quand, n'importe où. people, faces drift through the city like singularly unique cirrus clouds, somehow crystallized yet mobile. maybe that's why people stare so openly on the train: they are finally able to focus on a single face, to register the harmonious (or un-) features so artfully combined - the way people comport themselves is endlessly fascinating, from incredibly think eyebrows to a proad emasculating squaring of the shoulders.
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