East River, NYC

A clear and warm day at last. The park was crammed with people sunning themselves while wearing surgical masks, an unsettling sight that renders so many dystopian visions into documentary. I’ve never seen so many people at the park. Runners clipped old ladies doing tai chi. A mother pushing a stroller hissed at a man who wandered too close. A woman said to no one in particular, “It’s so weird how all of this turned out.” Even though we’re weary and prickly, it’s nice to hear unfamiliar voices.

In these masked days, two factoids come to mind: 1) the smile is the expression that can be seen from farthest away, and 2) a smile without contracted muscles around the eyes can “unmask the false friend.”

At noon a flock of military jets flew over New York City as a tribute to America’s healthcare workers because we apply the logic of war to everything. As of today, over one million Americans have been infected with the virus and fifty thousand are dead.

The Sight Below – A Fractured Smile

Glider | Ghostly, 2008 | Bandcamp
Each night in 2020, I wrote a short post for a series called Notes From the End of a World because I wanted to etch these days into my memory. Before the world changed completely.
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