|The 6 train, the Bronx to the Brooklyn Bridge.|
The sway of the train is lulling me to sleep. The cab is warm, nearly full. Instead of closing my eyes and turning up the volume on the headphones, I scan the crowd. I watch faces.
It’s NYC, Day 96.
The holidays are over, the Christmas trees are being drug to the curb, small, dry pine trees that better fit in small apartments. Life is getting back to normal for most – schools are open, businesses are back to first-quarter schedules. There’s still a lot of tourist activity, foreign visitors on holiday, but even that will begin to wane.
The city will take on a new feel, a new vibe.
Hopefully, so will this experiment.
I’ve been far too quiet on this blog of mine, far too busy. And that’s not what I came to New York to do. Through my employment, I have been elevated to as many hours as the company can give and still consider me part-time. The days vary. The hours vary.
I’m actually doing less writing, less exploring, than I want.
I’ve just asked for less hours.
A three-day work week.
Combined with my freelance contracts, plenty of cash to live on, within a budget.
It’s time to get back to seeing things from the ground up. Take notes, experience.Again.
Write more. Photograph more.
Knowledge is everything. We are not getting the Sunday New York Times and Time Out New York magazine (where I found a great event, a discussion on the demise of punk, which I plan to attend), and on Wednesday’s there’s the Village Voice. At work, I met an artist who told me about The Moth, a live storytelling event in the city.
It’s time to spread these wings.
There’s 269 days left in this NYC experiment. Doesn’t feel like near enough.