Putting a record on loop is still the best way for me to nail my memories to some kind of texture and timeline.
These blurry days between Christmas and New Year’s Eve stand outside of time.
Last night we scattered into the dark, where the streets were empty except for drunks and insomniacs, the penitent and devout.
Yesterday I woke several hours before sunrise, which was out of character for me.
I had the freefalling sensation of being ejected from the city, of being spat out of a whirlwind.
Two days left in New York City. These days I spend my time frowning at objects once happily forgotten in the shadows beneath my bed or the back of my closet.
Four days left in New York City. Last night I finished Jonathan Franzen’s Crossroads, and even as I turned the final page, I was amazed I was reading it at all.
Last night I watched C. paint, and she moved so quick and loose, belonging entirely to the moment as she swirled her ink across a massive canvas.
New York City. Sunset: 4:27pm. Cloudy skies and drizzle with temperatures in the thirties. Yesterday a Chinese rover spotted a cube on the moon.
After three months in Green-Wood Cemetery’s historic chapel, After the End closed last night.
Sunset: 4:28pm. I encountered an exciting holiday scene this afternoon.
New York City. Sunset at 4:28pm, and a new supermoon is on its way. Over the next two weeks, I’ll look at the city more closely, hoping to etch its jangle and hum into a well-worn memory.
Cloudy skies and temperatures holding steady in the forties. The United States detected its first case of the Omicron variant today.
