In New York I would take a walk, find a place to sit with a cup of coffee and maybe a cookie and watch people, it doesn’t sound like much but it worked for me, cleared my head, got me out of a funk, the kind of funk where I don’t feel like leaving the apartment, have trouble standing up, walking to the bathroom, brushing my teeth, getting in the shower, although I rarely maybe never had a day when I couldn’t at least do that much, but back in my chair, sitting down again, now with brushed teeth and wet hair I still might not be able to get up, put on some outside clothes, pick up my keys and walk down the stairs of the stoop, over to Columbus Avenue maybe, down Columbus, sometimes to Lincoln Center where back near the Henry Moore sculptures there were adirondack chairs and I would sit down, armed with that coffee and cookie and read and watch people, the musicians walking toward the opera house with their heavy music cases, the Juilliard students, lively and beautiful, laughing and talking fast, almost dancing across the courtyard.
Beautiful writing, painting the image of the woman alone in her apartment in the chair, and then out in the busy world "armed with that coffee and cookie," taking comfort in the humanity around her.
ReplyDeleteAs a New Yorker I fully empathise with this very engaging writer and this beautifully written piece, The effort to just get dressed and the extraordinary effort to go out and yes, coffee and cookie are how we cope and arm ourselves. And how we can watch the Lincoln Center human traffic and find some peace and comfort.
ReplyDeleteGreat evocation of the Juilliard students "almost dancing across the courtyard" and of Lincoln Center in general, with its Henry Moore sculptures and musicians lugging heavy music cases as they make their way toward the opera house.
ReplyDeleteUnder the beautiful detail, a wistfulness, a serenity, a quiet consoling a funk.
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