New York, New York. What’s this country bumpkin with a City Girl heart doing here? Well, lots.
I know it’s been a while since I posted. My head down, my heart heavy, my vision blurry, kept me from posting. Mostly, I was exhausted. Letting all the stuff going on, get to me. It was time to run away.
Of course, just in time, husband got work in NYC. Wahoo! (for the work) Wahoo! (it’s NYC) and Wahoo! (I get to go!) So…I came. Mostly. In my head was churning all of the things I would do, what I would post, how much fun that would be.
When we were sitting on a plane, John turns to me and says, “you got the power for your laptop, right?”
Reality slapped me in the head. Uh-oh. Even as I said, “um. no” my head was spinning with how to solve it.
Good grief. What an air head. Well, at the risk of stating the obvious, clearly, solve it I did, and thank you, Tracy and Angel Fire Resort and Amy!
Yesterday it poured rain all day. Not like it rains in Angel Fire, with a heavy burst of two inch diameter rain drops followed by double rainbows and bright cerulean blue skies….no, the walls of solid drizzle that get you wet through and through…especially if you forgot the umbrella, too.
Ok, so I did a small “Pan Pastel” on Artist Panel (it looks about 6 x 6 (inches) to me. Not sure how I’ll get it home. hmmm. At least I made here with the pan pastel, the paper and panels and the tools. Geee, where was my head?
In the rain, (which day?)I wound the streets from the apartment provided by the company John is working for (Learning Tree) to find “ground zero”. We’ve been here a few times since 9/11…but I’d never screwed up the guts to go look. This time, I decided, it was way past time. So, in the rain, I went. By the time I went out, the rain was more of a mist.
I was struck by the slow weep of the heavens as I climbed the stairs to the viewing bridge. I had my camera…but I took no photos. The striking emptiness of the gaping hole in the skyline is clearer even on the ground. There is much going on there, all kinds of construction. They had apparently just poured concrete, and it was all covered in giant tarps to protect it from the rain. It looked like giant grave cloth to me. I stood there for quite a while, letting it all soak in. My mind took me back to when I stood looking in the glassed in rooms at Auschwitz. How is it different, really? I wondered. Those who don’t learn from history are doomed to repeat it. I shuddered, and headed back down the stairs.
That was actually on Tuesday. Yesterday was much wetter. I went out in search of groceries, got lost, gave up and found my way back to the apartment soaking wet and wishing I’d not gone out.
Today is much brighter, and after a good night’s sleep (finally!) I ventured out in the chilly morning air and found the 17th St. Pier and all the shops there. They were not open yet, so it was quiet, and the seagulls were dive-bombing in the Hudson River, the morning sun lighting up the skyscrapers like gleaming diamonds. I looked at the river and wondered how incredulous it must have been to watch an airplane land on it not so long ago. I looked at the Brooklyn bridge and watched all the cars and people going this way and that. I watched as a few old men came together and began their Tai Chi. Slowly, the seaport began to wake up. Buses pulled in and unloaded their riders in front of the ticket booth for ferries to Ellis Island, Staten Island and other destinations. Cafe and store owners cleaned windows and floors and unstacked tables and chairs, preparing to open. It made me think of home and the commonality of owning your own business and all that means.
I bought a cup of coffee and warmed up a bit while I watched the progress of the South Street Seaport opening up for business.
Once warmed, all open I wandered through the shops at the pier, then wandered across to Fulton and Front pedestrian shopping area where I found a great (really cute) sweater for $29 and two nice dress shirts for John …two for $40. I found alot of other great stuff too, but I didn’t buy it.
By then, I’d been wandering the streets for 4 hours and my feet were telling me to go home, which I did. So now we’re caught up. I hear there’s a good bit of snow at home. I’m really glad I cleared out the garage and pulled the truck in. Think I’ll relax for a bit…if I can remember how to do that!
Angel Fire ArtSpace,
3469 Mountain View Blvd, Suites B2-4 Angel Fire NM
