Coming home?

First the delight as the familiar skyline comes into view. even in the days when a trip back to new york meant plunging back into childhood fear & unhappiness, I always had that jolt of joy at my firat glimpse of thew jagged skyline against a scrim of clouds or etched into fog. Today as the bus pulled in I felt myself hunching into myself as I always do when I first arrive. Its as if I am turtling iin so all you see is the tough New Yorker, nevermind the rolling suitcase or the pause as I stop to remembere if I turn right or left toward Broadway. I am here to spend time with a friend I first met in Boston. I come back at Christmas to see my aunts and our cousins who shook off Queens long ago in favor of Long Island. But the weekends spent walking from one end of Manhattan to another, finally visiting John Derian’s shop or stalking the jen bekman gallery for the umpteenth time or chatting up the vendors if I cross the bridge and head to the Brooklyn Flea, those are the New York memories I have now thanks to my Boston friend and other friends I met somewhere else back when I didn’t yet know how to wear my growing up years lightly. Its thhese friends who have helped me shake off most of that dust and given this wild beautiful noisy crowded exhilirating place back to me.

 

p,s,  I apologize for the typos. who knew it was this hard to blog by phone?

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Posted on February 24, 2012, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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