A very big city

the Gubbio Studio: my favorite room at the met
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Last night, somewhere in Brooklyn, a woman asked me for directions to Metropolitain Ave.

I watched the Oscars at the house of a sort-of famous person, who was not there.

When is a stone not a stone?  When it is one of thousands of hollow aluminum headstones in Brooklyn.

Today on the N to Coney Island, a woman asked if there was a Washington Mutual at the 34th street stop.

Cemetery and the City
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The salesman at Eastern Mountain Sports asked if he could help me with anything.  I resisted saying that I was beyond help.  Neither did I reply to his suggestion to "take it easy."  Neither did I cry.

On the train back into the city I saw a beautiful colored sunset sky setting behind the Brooklyn Bridge and the Statue of Liberty.  It should have been a big give-away that I looked.

I even dropped to my knees to peer over the subway platform at a rat hunting around.  I was probably also talking to it, so maybe I fit right in.

Look closely for a reflection of a panda, a tiger and the skeleton of a dodo bird.
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A nice young woman stopped to talk to me today on the beach.  I had just shouted aloud at the waves for washing out my foot prints before I could photograph them.  She asked me if the water was nice and I told her no, it was very cold.  She said that sometimes she thinks it would be very nice to put her feet in.  I remember now that being trusting is scary because it's not about what you get out of it, but what the person who finds themselves trustworthy gets out of it.