It is Tuesday and time to write a 'Slice of Life."
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I am just back from a very special weekend in New York City. My book group and our partners visited together, to see a theater show (Hadestown) and an art exhibit (Mark Bradford). Each of these planned expeditions was extraordinary. Hadestown was the first live theater I’ve seen since pre-pandemic – the music was fabulous, with a live band on stage; the acting was so wonderful. I’m still singing the songs. Mark Bradford’s art was new to me – enormous constructs of abstract work created on old billboards. I was absolutely spellbound by his genius, passion. and creativity. The show included a 20-second video on loop he created as a 12 year old (back in 1972), imagining himself shot by police. He is a Black, gay man, and even at this young age he was profoundly aware of racism, how he was looked at by others. His life’s work has explored themes of racism and justice.
Our group had just the right mix of ‘all together’ time – Tony and I had lots of time to ourselves. Just the two of us, we enjoyed several long walks, taking in the sights – the people, the architecture, the antics. We walked the Brooklyn Bridge and we wandered Central Park. In four days, we walked more than 30 miles! We went to see an incredible art exhibit by Juane Quick-to-See Smith at the Whitney. Using found materials, her art advocates for the oppressed and for environmental justice. This show was a beautiful complement to the Mark Bradford exhibit.
Moments of surprise –
- when we arrived in NYC and had a little trouble finding our way out of the lower level of the train station, it was the unsteady gentleman standing along the tracks, holding a black trash bag of his belongings, who directed us to the escalator up
- the marvelous remodeling of Penn Station/Moynihan Train Hall (completed Jan 2021), a clean, bright, and beautiful space
- a man feeding pigeons crusty bread, one perched on his head, two on his forearms, and hundreds and hundreds of pigeons at his feet – and how their sheer number revealed such variety in feathering, coloring black, peach, grey, white, brown, tan
- wandering through Times Square by mistake one night and knowing in my bones that I don’t EVER again need to see this bastion of chaos and commotion, exhaustingly wild
- pervasive smell of marijuana everywhere, sold ‘recreationally’ in NYC since 2022, with shops on practically every city block
- the surprise joy of a truck blocking traffic to unload cedar logs at a wholesale greenery shop, both sidewalk and alley overflowing with fresh cut flowers and branches, and this effervescent, life-giving scent filling the air
- looking down on traffic from one restaurant window and witnessing sheer gridlock of traffic – yellow cabs, cars, trucks, pedicabs, cyclists, pedestrians, more – unbelievable, really
- happening upon dozens of nudists in Union Square Park being body-painted for a ‘protest against divisiveness’
- walking down 17 flights of stairs in our hotel when the elevator couldn’t be summoned, feeling head-whirly from the tight staircases, and laughing out loud at the ominous sign on the door at the bottom: FINAL EXIT
- eating breakfast at this tiny hole-in-the-wall (only 12 patrons total), sitting on retro twisty stools, watching the short-order cook prepare yummy food so very quickly
- On our last night, we found this sweet, quiet, and quite empty piano bar, just a few doors down from our hotel – a nice way to end our stay in this busy, noisy, non-stop city.
- coming home to bounteous ripe tomatoes in our garden and realizing our day-to-day is so much softer and calmer than NYC!
A fabulous weekend, for sure – and quite a contrast to hiking in Maine the previous week.
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