I’m sure that my love of nyc is quite an enigma. On a recent weekend trip, jampacked with a collage of shows, shopping, subways, food, people, constant movement, noise, sensory overload, and a million little nuances of connection and illusion, I became convinced of the city’s addictive allure.
And yet I crave solitude. How can that be?
Yes, I loved sharing it with my special friends. And the occasion of a 21st birthday, wow, even better. But…..
Maybe the real experience for me comes through the observation…..the witnessing…..the honesty of ‘seeing.’
Being out of my comfort zone never fails to be…..always a clear challenge, and inevitably….quite profitable in ‘life experience’ points.
You have to ‘bulldoze through’ in nyc. You just don’t sit back and ruminate. It keeps coming at you. Yet…..this has its strange advantages.
I can’t wallow in a brief moment or encounter with a stranger or experience. It’s on to the next ‘distraction.’ My first impressions suddenly become ‘the moment.’ I learn quickly. I don’t hesitate in my intuition. I know. I trust myself. I trust others. Or don’t.
When I come home and question…….I am amazed at how smoothly it all actually moves.
Are new yorkers jaded? And what does that mean? Maybe they get a little bit of something the rest of us don’t really get to see?
I love SoHo. I love cafes. I love great food. I love diversity. I love the questions that slam me in the face in nyc.