New York

I cannot even write those words down without having emotion flood back.

We stayed in Brooklyn in a beautiful house that was in the nicest neighborhood. Looking out the window at the street below was like a page out of the New Yorker Magazine. It was like I was inside one of the stories in the magazine .  everything was painted white  in the house  white white white.

The floors were all distressed old growth wood and they were heated. It was like walking on art. The grooves and knots and grain of the old trees sung out when you slid your hand over them.

So many years went into growing so many things happened while this tree was growing.

white walls and high high ceilings  and windows looking down onto the New Yorker Magazine life throbbing down below.

I have a friend who is from the East Coast and he told me that Japan pays artists to just live because they consider them to be treasures. I agree with this idea. Artists should not have to do anything but travel and live and work and produce. Making art is the one job that lasts past your life so any society should value and protect that . Any artist given that opportunity would not squander it and waste time. I don’t know any lazy artists, They all are driven .

all the time in New York was totally devoted to seeing art with artists so we walked non stop for many hours a day looking and absorbing every drop of the city we could.

this was the first time I went to Brooklyn  which is itself a world of beauty  all its own, The Brooklyn Bridge is a lacy giant the takes you to Manhattan.

The Brooklyn Conservatory is acres of garden and glass  where you can meander in the warm tropics for hours while snow is covering the city outside.

We ate at a restaurant that was famous for jerk chicken. It was so tiny you had to climb a ladder steep staircase to get up to the teeny place to eat upstairs, the little rooms was jammed with art and flowers and lots of wonderful things to look at while  you waited for the food . When they handed the food to you , it came in steaming huge plates which was so funny as our table was tiny. It all added to the ambience of love which was radiating out of the walls,,, I love my job I love my job I love my job. Of course the food was fantastic . Everything is fantastic when you are soaked in culture. The chef was a lovely black man who looked so beautiful against the cobalt blue walls and bouquets of flowers spilling into the room,

every second we spent in New York was magical . Every second.

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