windows of new york

in light of today's events in france (the shooting of the suspects), i have a need to look at things that feel beautiful and inspiring and aspirational instead of dwelling of the fear and the pain and the terror and yes, the disappointment that they don't have to answer for their actions. because some part of me wants answers - why did they do this? what possessed them? if we could just understand we could do something and these things would end, right? and no one would have to go around in fear. right?

oh well, just look at the pretty windows, will you?

missing my new york window

it's rather easy, when you're walking down the busy streets of new york city, to forget to look up. cyndy tried to warn us about this, but i'm not sure i fully appreciated it until wandering alone on my last day. i looked up at the imposing structures lining 5th avenue ahead of me and found them quite surprising and surprisingly the opposite of beautiful. they are dominant, cold, masculine, insurmountable, full of inhuman perfect lines and squareyness. they're not comforting or hyggeligt. at all. and i wonder whether they were shaped by the people who made them or whether the people who made them were shaped by them. or whether those lines blurred along the way and it's now impossible to say. do they inspire a cold, clinical, hard view of the world? one that resulted in the hubris of the financial crisis, which we're all still trying to shake off? would the world be a different place if the architecture of new york city was different? but could the architecture of new york city be any different than it is? or was it destined to be this way?

what is it that draws us to a place? makes us love it? or hate it almost instantly? everyone always told me that i would love new york. and in many ways, i did. the pulse, the vibe, the walkability, the whole sense that it was just alive and happening in every imaginable way. the food. the people having total screaming matches on the street at another person or into a telephone. the diversity. but i wouldn't want to live there. i think it would get to me after awhile. all that erect, hard, agressive squareyness.

so while i loved every minute of my first trip to new york, i'm not a new york person. i didn't fall head over heels for it the way i did with cape town. or london. or istanbul. or seattle. or san francisco. or moscow. to be fair, i'm not sure i'd fall for moscow in the same way today. it had to do with a certain phase and time of my life. and perhaps i just missed my new york window.

* * *

the architecture of new york city got amy thinking as well. 

processing. processing. processing.

my eyes have changed. it seems like it happened suddenly. i've been wiping off my glasses all day, thinking it was because they were all foggy. but i think it's because my eyes have made a sudden change. i wonder if it means i have ebola?

kidding.

that's not one of the symptoms.

and it's also not what i had intended to write about.

i'm winding down my trip. one more day in the office, then back to nyc tomorrow evening and a last few hours there before i fly home. it's been an awesome trip. i've met so many new people, gotten together with old friends (some for the first time in person, even tho' they felt like we'd been friends for years, which, i guess, we had), and made new friends.

as amy wrote earlier today, she's still processing. and so am i.

i've eaten everything from oysters and foie gras pops to dill pickle sunflower seeds (way yummier than you might think). i've laughed until tears streamed down my face (seriously, google monsignor meth and you will too). i've walked until my feet weren't speaking to me. and i've seen everything from firetrucks attempting to speed down manhattan streets to spiderman strolling across times square to some odd, large, unattended canisters of liquid nitrogen on a curbside. i photographed the original starbucks and the apple store in grand central. we danced until the wee hours in an irish bar across from penn station, singing at the top of our lungs to 90s songs (by the way, cyndy knows all the words). i had an amazing scent experience at MiN, thanks to my sister. i've taken a bunch of photos in a museum (even tho' you probably shouldn't do that). i've corresponded with the child, who is in london at the moment on a school trip (she's 13 and has big business plans). i've been frightened by american television (good morning america, 19 and counting, the political ads...). and i've enjoyed a real, thick, beautiful sunday new york times. in new york.

suffice it to say, it's a lot to take in. a lot to process. so i'll be back with more soon...