I love that the internet makes it possible to dream. Not only daydream, but the ability to step into someone’s shoes, and walk a mile in their worn soles. I love that with only a few clicks, I can live in Paris. I love that through pictures, I can be at a meeting in a pub in England, catching up with long lost friends. I love that the internet has changed our human experience that we might live our lives with a little more grace, a little more color, and a little more creativity.Words are warm at my fingertips. They flow from my fingers like paint, giving me a medium by which I might paint you a picture.
Once upon a time, I visited New York. I was there helping a friend, however I was essentially alone- free to roam in the {not yet *my*} beautiful city. I’d only been once before, and that was for a measly 20 or something hours. This time, I had a week.
Quite frequently I see large groups of people wandering around Canal street, and I feel depressed for them. Yes, they are in New York, but they are not IN New York. They are not experiencing New York like a breath, they are looking at New York like a movie.
The song “Eleanor Put Your Boots On” grabs on to what is my New York and turns it into an auditory film reel. Press play, and
4
3
2
1
The screen is black, then there is light. There is dust on the first few blurry bits of film. The scene comes into focus, and you see a girl, riding on a train. She is reading a small paperback book, and warm yellow sunlight is streaming through windows of the subway car. The train rattles and shakes over it’s tracks, dipping though Brooklyn, finally coming to a rest at Mermaid Avenue. The sky is clear blue, and the wind is crisp. Water is near.
Old roller coasters sit in the lot nearby like dusty shells, praying for spring to arrive, and life to begin again. Nathan’s Hot Dogs is closed for the season, bright yellow paint threatening to peel
The girl walks on the boardwalk, and sits on a bench, looking at the blue water, feeling small.
fade to black.
The girl is walking down shady sidewalks, praying that the rose-colored buildings would be real, and not just a figment of this beautiful daydream.
The girl is on a boat, giving her hopes and dreams to one person, pinning everything to that one moment. Later she will laugh and roll her eyes, but at that moment, she is physically present and she is nowhere to be found.
The girl is sitting in a park, a cool breeze swirling around the block, Though it is dark, lights are everywhere; though her metal table all but disappears in the night. She looks over to see a fountain, illuminated and glowing. It’s so happy and sad and etherial all at once, she is silent. Mind and soul take a collective inhale.
She has yet to land.
