I will follow you into the dark

Hands clasped so tight, waiting for the hint of a spark.  

Summer doldrums have settled in, and both my physical exhaustion and foul weather limit the amount of wandering around I'd prefer.  The city invariably progresses, and I am pulled along with it for the moment.  Other parts of my life have reached some stasis as well.

We drove to New Jersey for a birthday party this past weekend, to celebrate my friend's son's 2nd birthday.  It was great to catch up, some folks there I have not spoken with in at least a year.  Their lifestyles are so different, child rearing and providing for their families and houses and yardwork.  I wonder what they must think of me?  I process how I regard them, with some distance, with curiosity, marvelling at the need to consider school districts and the right size of SUV.  I feel a bit ashamed that my worries are minor in comparison; if I've missed out on a new restaurant, did not imbibe some new cocktail, or was unable to attend some new exhibit.  In conversation, we were all in agreement that we are resigned to live in the tristate area, out of the comfort of families and other support networks.  The lifestyle here is tougher, with longer commutes and even longer, difficult work hours.  I agreed, and nod, though I am currently experiencing neither at the moment.

This song came on the radio, serendipitously, as we were driving into Holland Tunnel.  

Death Cab for Cutie - I will follow you into the dark.

La mer

Caught a magic show after work, and everything feels slightly fantastical, the suspension of reality taking time to wear off.  The humidity augments the atmosphere, making the air foggy and thick.  Waiting on the subway platform for the train home was almost sensuous, the heat craddling all the to-be straphangers, who were sweating with wild abandon.

Charles Trenet - La mer.

Flightless bird, american mouth

In so far as I tend towards melancholy, I have been chasing new experiences and ways to uplift myself.  Particularly, I've been tinkering with different ways to donate my time and resources with different organizations, with mixed results in terms of whether I feel it was effort well spent.  Volunteering as a cyclist for the running organization was something I've been wanting to do, but couldn't find the right time.  My wife saw some open volunteer spots finally available, and I jumped on it.  This experience was delightful, I had some great conversations with people in the process.  I'm also exploring public works as another approach - I found another organization that will allow me to fund murals by street artists in Lower Manhattan.  Though street art is invariably ephemeral, the idea of building a legacy through public artworks may still be an interesting route.

Iron & Wine - Flightless bird, american mouth.

Abominable snowman

Possibly because marathon training requires a certain pacing and discipline, both the summer heat and the city feel relentless, and slightly oppressive.  My wife and I are planning a trip out to Oregon, partly stemming out of our discussion that the value system prevalent in our version of New York City feels out of whack with our own sensibilities, and to visit her friends that have left to put their roots down elsewhere.  Maybe that is out of our lack of experiencing the full spectrum of New Yorkers too.  We had a visitor earlier this year, and she had mentioned that "You know, this only exists in New York City, it exists nowhere else."  It was an observation that struck a chord - both good and bad; the uniqueness of the city and the diversity of experiences that it offers, along with all its excesses, seemingly needless and ersatz.  This is all I ever wanted to call my home, but I don't know if this is all that I need, as the song goes.

Summer salt - Abominable snowman.

Just one kiss

Between the summer heat and marathon training, it's just been difficult to keep up with all the streetart coming up around NYC.  I have a long backlog of sites to cover, but neither the time or energy to keep up.  It's forced me to be a bit more selective, which is not entirely an awful thing.  

This message for this piece resonated with me - in the artist's words, "This piece is meant to be a break from the daily horror of global events, a momentary pause to let your mind wander and escape the collective anxiety felt in the United States today. I was compelled to paint something intentionally apolitical. A literal INTERMISSION from the noise and madness - nothing more."

Thank goodness for momentary pauses, the luxury to let one's mind wander and reflect.

Raphael Saadiq, Joss Stone - Just one kiss.

The rat

I finally got to visit the Heavenly Bodies exhibit at the Met with my wife.  As expected, it was super crowded, but the staging and curation was well thought out.  This view was just a nice unexpected treat upon exiting the show.

The Walkmen - The rat.