Filth from the top to bottom of a 16-story apartment building, and surrounding awnings, washed in raindrops and down my face last night as I stopped to think amid the shine of warmer spaces and reflections of walkers.
Out again in the anonymous dark of the city that envelops in a sense of purpose.
The MOMAqns space is industrial and never lets you forget that with ugly Starbucks-type ceiling busy with pipes and ducts and an unforgiving floor that one security man said he hates.
The works on paper show worth the travels and there was a catastrophe on Line 7 so travel back to the Promised Land was hard, took a train in opposite direction several stops to get off, run topspeed across platform with the others and get back down to downtown.
Today went to look at the show of Sylvia Plachy images at Bateman and it was grand - her usual quirky ways in black & white. Her prices were surprisingly low but I bought nothing.
Came very close to buying a new Me & Ro ring but did not, and now maybe feeling a small slice of regret.
So back in Middling City and it's nearly time to hit the highway and partyway again.
My one small obsession this time around in NYC was to be jettisoned from bars so I requested a jettisoning from the bartendress at Big Bar on 7th St (a longtime fav) and she complied with a gentle push.
Last night cavorted with Jason and Dorota at Clay and asked Edward to do same so he picked up up and carried me out. When we got to the doorway I stuck out my legs to thwart him and when I landed on the sidewalk I did so dramatically, so dramatically that a cabbie stopped to see what in hell was up.
Today my cabbie out to LaGuardia was way chatty and trying to be flirty, of all things.
All for now, rainy love.