In New Mexico, the space is vast and quiet, a place where echoes have left their voices to the louder sounds of wind and air. In New York, many miles away, the space is vast and loud, a place where echoes live healthy, raucous lives amidst car honks and buskers, voices with accents and foreign tongues, cell phone rings and subways accelerating. On 6th Avenue the other day – the lofty, patriotic Avenue of the Americas – the echoes bounced from the yips of tiny dogs in sweaters on the end of jewel-studded leashes. They flashed around an impeccably dressed lady, all in black, her hair overflowing in grey curls like an icy, winter waterfall down her back. They played off the tender voice of a hard-edged woman on the phone to home, saying, “Give my regards to everyone, and I love you and I’ll always love you.”
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
My Brooklyn, big-city life began with the first of the year. There is something pure and fresh about beginning a new life in a new place on the first day of a new year. We change, we adapt, we adjust – the puppies more slowly than I – and happily for everyone, we have a home, we have the prospect of jobs, we have roofs with turrets and gargoyles to see a few stars from, we have dinners of soup on rainy days, we have streets and coffee shops to explore and know, and we have friends, friends, friends to see and kiss almost every New York minute.
There is an embarrassing amount of more to say and share – of trips east with my dad, of New Year’s parties and charades, of backlogged photos from far too long ago – but I’m still learning to walk on pavement rather than dust, and it’s taking a little while. Stay tuned, darlings. I love you and I’ll always love you. Be well. – SAWK
1 comment