Home in Tucson… just for a week, but what bliss it is to be here.
The air is cool and gentle (mysterious, but that’s 2014 for you) and the cardinals and finches are chip-chipping in the yard. Soon, the lizards will be up. Miss Fish is sleeping next to me, purring, brushed and petted and full of breakfast.
I had a wonderful time in NYC. My friend Ryan, who lives in Brooklyn, was my tour guide. He took me to the most amazing places.
Yesterday, we hung out under bridges. This was right in character as we seem to do this wherever we go. We walk across them, too, pretty much every chance we get.
Above, the beautiful Williamsburg Bridge, into Brooklyn.
Just across the East River from Manhattan, hanging out under bridges on the Brooklyn side means community gardens, heavy with the scent of old roses, and carousel horses and dog parks and play parks and mermaid photoshoots and food trucks and mindbending skylines and people laughing and kissing and water lapping on beaches and picnic tables and artists drawing and writers writing and people playing chess at cafe tables and a choir from the Netherlands that suddenly gathers in a flash mob next to the carousel and sings, with heartbreaking beauty, just for a moment, just for the air, and for us, because we were lucky enough to be there.
I thought of it too late, because I was overcome with feelings, but had I been clever enough to mention it before they dispersed, I could have put them all on the carousel (it was only $2 a ride) and we could have all ridden it together, singing.
Not every scene can be enacted in life, but somehow, just thinking of it (even five minutes too late) is almost as beautiful.
Watching a mermaid shoot on the rocks.
My perception of life is that it is just one piece of magic after the next; the world is stuffed with everything, and I want to swim in it like a fish. Admittedly this was a golden moment in general; the weather was suddenly perfect, and everyone was on the frolic. But even on shitty days, magic is everywhere, waiting.
We were lucky enough to be crossing through this little slice of heaven when one of the creators (Andrea, I believe) was there spiffing the place. She was thrilled at our joy in the flowers and the bees, and told us about each rose, all native varieties, all planted with love in a space that was destined to be flat concrete. Andrea wangled a chance at a garden out of the city, and before anyone knew it, she’d not only got the thing dug, but Parks was bringing her mulch and Streets was helping her plant trees, and BING: rose garden.
We did so much. I could never tell it all. You’d wither away as the hours went by, and photo after escapade after magical moment scrolled by, almost endlessly, on your screen.
Later, I’ll tell you about the talk at the Fashion Institute, and our amazing photoshoot, and my dinner with Michael Pope, Ryan and Carter Emmart, and wandering around after the talk and shoot with Kyle and Trillian Stars and Jennifer Goldsmith, still wearing my silk gown (humorously with a mermaid tail) and velvet cloak.