ardent bullshit comes down every faultline gushing heavily into jest kindly luscious melons nodding openly post quakes resting still to undermind various wonderous xylophones yawning zealously

Tuesday, July 21, 2015

Pull, kick, breathe.

There is an outdoor, public pool about a block from my apartment. It is an old pool, with a pool house (or at least the large stone structure was at one point; for what it is used now, I have no clue) on the west end of the pools. During the days the pool is open to kids and adults and whoever just wants to cool off. At 7 o'clock on the weeknights the parks department limits pool-goers to adult lap swimming. The lanes run east/west. Tonight I swam freestyle lengths going eastward and breaststroke lengths going westward for about 40 minutes and watched as the sun set behind the building.

Precious Moments.

Having not yet joined a gym here, exercise has mainly consisted of outdoor running, dance classes, and now swimming. I could go on like this forever but weather will not allow it and I do like access to a steam room and sauna in the winter. It'd been a few years since consistently swimming (about 6 to be precise) for exercise and I am happy to say that it's just like riding a bike. But in a pool. With measured breathing.

Sunday, July 19, 2015

Sunday Mornings on the Lower East Side

After deciding that I would go to school on Manhattan I investigated NYC neighborhoods to help determine where I wanted to live. Whether or not I could afford to live there was not really a consideration yet, and certainly affected my overall decision. But as a "feeling" sort of person, a neighborhood's qualitative characteristics hold decent weight for me. Also, anywhere on Manhattan is just plain expensive and I'd already experienced the money freak out. I visited a few different areas over the course of one weekend and found them all okay, with positive aspects but nothing that blew my mind. 

The first Sunday in April I rode the J train from Brooklyn, over the Williamsburg Bridge, to the Essex stop and walked Norfolk up to Houston, with the intent of getting bagels, lox, and all else that goes with that for Easter brunch with my family. Bringing bagels to the cousins' has become a delightful tradition. 

Sunday mornings on LES are quiet, lazy, and wholesome. People sit on their front steps with coffee and say hello. It feels like the entire neighborhood is stretching and yawning itself awake, stealing some quiet time. It feels peaceful. It feels like home. 

This morning Payton and I met in the middle of and ran back and forth over the Williamsburg Bridge a few times, gabbing and laughing, staring at the Midtown skyline in awe of where we live. I still feel challenged by the newness of my (lack of?) routine here but little by little the things I enjoy are being repeated. And experiences I'd prefer not prioritize are just being set aside. 

Wednesday, July 15, 2015

Honest Conversation About Humanity

It's been two weeks since I left Brookline. And about two weeks of moving, physically and emotionally. Not from anything but rather toward people and places; this is still foreign for me. To list the experiences I have had over the course of 14 days could not begin to allow the weight and credit these opportunities deserve. Nor could it describe just how healthily drained I feel as a result.

Yesterday morning I got back from Georgia, early, and pushed myself to work through the day. So I, with purpose, slept past my alarm this morning. And now it is raining. Which really just makes for a good excuse to lay low and refill and eat some food I make at home.

Wednesday, July 01, 2015


Today is my second day living on Manhattan. Around 7:30 tonight, while in the West Village, I ran into a woman I met on a rain forest tour in Puerto Rico. Pete and I were hanging out and I saw someone who looks like her so I said "hey Carrie!" and she turned around and it was her. So we had dinner and gibber-gabbered away for a few hours, enjoying each others' company. 

This island is magical.