Thankful for New York City

There is something about sitting in a sweltering room with a hundred or so people, short shorted thighs sticking to torn vinyl chairs, photocopied programs fanning the air, taxis honking stories below, the sunlight shining then fading off the building across the concrete canyon. A hush settled over the fidgeting crowd, a baritone voice announced stage directions, piano keys came to life, voices rose and filled the studio. Voices rising, falling, resonating; vibrato making my ears hum. There is something about being in a (sweltering, vibrating, captivated) room full of people telling/listening to a story, singing/listening to music, creating a world with images and notes, held glances and the conductor's flick of a wrist. I remember why I love theater, love art, love artists, creators, dreamers, composers, love old buildings and studios and folding chairs in a bare room full of music and breath and energy.

There is something about walking down the street and seeing a piano on the street. Not tipped over with chipped paint and broken strings, missing keys and legs, a "FREE" sign where the music should be. This piano was multicolored and free for the playing. Lines form behind benches, kids with songbooks stare intently at the bars and plunk out a few notes before wowing the growing crowd with virtuoso intensity. But how wonderful is it that the city if filled with pianos, filled with fingers moving over keyboards, filled with Chopsticks and The Entertainer.

There is something about walking on the Highline, a park above the streets, pink echinacea and purple heather and pale green wild grasses curtsying in the breeze blowing off of the Hudson. Busy people stopping staring at buildings they otherwise never see, at water they otherwise can't hear or smell (like the Ganges at dawn- ablutions, incense, bloated flesh), at flowers and trees and open space that isn't street.

There is something about walking through the farmers market, but you know how I feel about that already. (beets! local cheese and wine! sprouts!)

There is something about New York City in the summertime, skin and sunglasses and ice cream trucks and picnics in the park and trumpets in the subway and old women in pale housedresses and elaborate makeup.
Thankful for being with friends on rooftops in the middle of the night, sipping in Central Park, sweating down the avenues, and looking up.
Thankful for sun and heat and emotions.

Thankful for feeling New York.