31–1 NY

Here and thereof, I declare that what you're about to read is true or as close to the truth as permitted by my subjective and limited perception of reality. These are the highlights (nice start) of what happened around me in that imperfect space of time comprehended right before and after the start of the new year:

It's 11:30 P.M. local time (4:30 GMT). Expectations are running very high for the new year that is approaching fast and furious, non stop, like a runaway train. This is specially true for the kids who are here, and here you must read my younger sister's house. The youngsters are hosts or were brought by their parents who happen to be relatives: brothers, sisters, cousins, and their partners, friends, and friends of our friends. They are making a lot of noise with their trumpet toys, chatting and yelling, running up and down the stairs and around the house. Madness is on the loose!

The TV is on, live from Times Square where the celebration is the most important event marking the beginning of the new year. All main channels have separate transmissions but they cover the same thing: a line up of pop artists singing and dancing until the drop of the ball sharp at Midnight would officially record the start of 2012. It's so appealing for tourists and foreigners to be there but no more so for locals, newyorkers like us, who find going there very taxing, quite demanding if you want to get a good view of what's going on. It's really a feat. You should have planned it all, well ahead, in advance to get to the site at least 7 or 8 hours before Midnight, and only water is allowed for you to carry in the extended area surrounding the square.

Now it's 11:50 P.M., and the excitement is visible in everyone's face. People look for location, they gather around the TV waiting for the signal that shall relieve the tension that has been building up in anticipation the whole night. Everybody gets ready as if something big is going to happen....

Earlier we had dinner. As it is now a norm when the family and friends reunite for events during the year, they all participate in the preparation of food and meals. Some people bring drinks, beer, others lasagna, different kind of sweets, pies, Portorican or Dominican recipes, salads....and in the summer they grill and grill and grill.

It is an invisible but well oiled machine that organizes everything. And all seem to run smoothly and effortless because each and everyone knows what to do. Everybody does what they're best at, and since participation is voluntary there are few issues to resolve. I like setting, taking care of the bar, the drinks, bar-serving my 'customers' who, thank god, are not very sophisticated in these regards and hence, not very difficult to please. Also, I'm getting good grades and remarks at preparing fancy salads and salad-dressings... Now, they say it's mandatory for me to bring something of the likes or I'm disappointing some of the people that are regulars, assiduous clients...

Tonight the main plate was a huge 'paella' that was prepared at my house (downstairs) by my oldest niece et al... That really helped to kill some time. The drinks also helped ease some of the jitters caused by all the stimuli affecting our senses and coming from all directions.

But the way we entertain ourselves is very different depending on what our age is:

And it's 11:59 and everybody stands up. And everything stops. We all meet around the TV and now is 10 seconds left, 9.... 3, 2, 1 and a very loud "Happy new year" cuts the air and is heard at unison filling the room and all gets crazy. The confetti from the TV is non longer exclusively inside there but spreads all over the living room and while we change people to exchange hugs and best wishes and we raise our cups and glasses to the ceiling in frantic display of exhilaration and relief I could see my older sister in the middle of the dining room with red eyes quietly weeping and crying ...

Walking down freedom land!

And finally I found my way to Zuccotti Park at the heart of the Financial District in lower Manhattan, N.Y. I couldn't have picked up a more perfect time to go than this past Sunday sixth of November. It was the day of the Marathon, a sunny one, blue skies, not hot at all but not too cold either.

I did go not only because it was a promise I publicly said I'd fulfill, but for the expectations, the whole curiosity that this new social phenomena had generated in the media and the general public with this thing of Occupying Wall Street.

Occupy has suddenly become one of the most famous words of the planet and for sure is one of the more used in the past couple of months. People now are occupying everything: my life, my heart, my home, my ... you name it, and the proposal has just been made.

I also wanted to go, because of Roberta, who is one of the members of the new book club I recently joined in. She's been in the Park three times already and she kept on telling us how being there was like entering another world... For someone who has lived enough and has presumably traveled a lot, those words had some very different meaning.

And she was right. The minute you arrive you notice change is in the air..

This doesn't seem like reality anymore. It's surrealism in the middle of all the concrete, the skyscrapers, the symbolism of capitalism where these people proclaim themselves they are part of the 99%, defying with bold statements the establishment and demanding at the same time things need to be changed...

                                                                   What a crowd!

For better or worse, idealism is not dead yet. These individuals are there to prove it... they have abandoned the comfort of their houses just to defend moral ideals of how things should be instead of how they are...

                                                                                                                 
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You can use the trip to the park anyway you want. It's up to you to decide. You can see it as a picnic where you can get free food, free coffee, free books, a lot of fun, entertaining, music, all forms of art and even free sex advise....

Who said that believing in ideals, fighting for a cause or trying to change the world had to be necessarily boring, insipid or distasteful? Obviously who might have thought that had not been in Zuccotti Park recently and much less had thought about such a strong movement like the one who has shaken New York, Paris, Madrid, Rome, Seattle, Atlanta, Washington D.C. and countless other cities and people around the world....

Occupy The Bridge

I was supposed to Occupy Wall Street this past weekend. Well, not exactly! I lack the enthusiasm these people seem to have for doing something like that! But I like what they do, and I had decided to write a post for The Bridge about what was really happening there, so close to the financial district in Manhattan, NY.

I even told a couple of friends that I wanted to express my view about what was going on in Zuccotti Park where the occupiers have established their headquarters. I wanted to bring my camera and take photos of everything including this servant, in the park, with the demonstrators. One of the reasons to tell them what my plans were, was to feel myself more committed and engaged with the (cause) task.

One of my friends got inspired and responded very graphically with words of encouragement.

And I let her down. I disappointed her and others, because I didn't go anywhere. I stayed at home instead, watching the weird and early snow, snow and rain, copiously and relentlessly falling from the sky. I also disappointed myself because I promised something that I didn't accomplished. Today, I feel ashamed and guilty because I preferred to stay in shorts at home, cozy and warm, watching movies, drinking tea and coffee while those guys were out there in tents, enduring the cold and rough weather the best they could.

A friend of mine told me the night before the police went with FDNY personnel (fire department) to remove all the generators the protesters were using to power their laptops and fight the cold... Meanwhile I was sleeping in my bed very well cushioned and detached from the discomforts those brave guys were facing, daring to sleep outdoors just to bring awareness of the inequalities that are plaguing our modern world.

But, I promise my friends that I'll try again not one but two, three or more times if necessary to get the job done. In the meantime there's one thing that I can do at the very least and that is: Occupy This Bridge (#OTB).

Un Café à Trois v. NY

NY, Wednesday, September 7, 2011

First of all let's put ourselves in prospect: What's going on in NY?

Rain, rain and more is coming its way. This has been the norm for the last few days. With almost unrestrained persistence, water is pouring from the skies day and night, night and day soaking our shoes, bones and everything in between. Of course, it's dampening our spirits too.

We haven't had time to forget the strange hurricane that hit us recently. It didn't affect the city too much but flooded entire towns in our State, the state of New Jersey and all across the region. And not long ago we had an even more rare earthquake that had us shaken long after the few seconds it lasted (well, not me, really: but I'm just the compassionate and supportive type of guy looking for the well-being of others).

However, all that was not sufficient to stop us from choosing a moment to share with our friends. You heard it well, even though I'm in the USA and my friend Sophie is in France and our junior member Grace is in Spain our plan is to share a "coffee" between the three of us celebrating the start of the new season. This time around each and everyone will choose when and where would be better to share an instant of his/her time, and the results will be posted here.

Weird, right? Crazy perhaps! Yes, we're weird people. We like rituals and we believe we prolong our existence not only when we're conscious of ourselves but when we're in the conscience and in the mind of others, other people, dear people like these friends, the ones who are with us day after day, or those who provide us with their company in any possible way, specially those who had become our readers.

But we're not more weird than those who believe in God or The Saints or dead people walking around / in the middle of the living ones. They have never seen, heard him. Nor spoken / chat by any means to him and still they feel his omnipresence. Well, at least we have more than enough proof that can validate the existence of Mademoiselle Sophie and la señorita Grace.

Here, I can't help but become a little philosophical. I wonder, if we exist only when we are in front of people and there's an exchange of glances, there's eye contact between the parts involved or if we could acknowledge the existence of others by other means than the physical ones. Do I exist only on myself or could I exist at the same time in other people's minds and thoughts? I certainly believe that all these possibilities are perfectly valid and coexist and they do not necessarily exclude each other. Just knowing or presuming that a friend have me in his/her thoughts is very comforting and seen posted here is indeed very fulfilling.

So I had the opportunity to start first and I picked today's day, Wednesday the 7th of September. The time? Well, nature is not working with me and I have to wait for the rain to stop. Waiting didn't help and to help create the mood it was not an option to stay home...It's 6:00 in the afternoon (18:00 local time) and I have to decide real quick what I'm going to do because time is running out. After a quick shower (you have to be presentable for your friends even if they're not in blood and flesh with you), I'm craving some Tequila and suddenly there's a bartender who is a friend of mine and works in Agave Azul, a Mexican bar and restaurant in an area of Washington Heights (Upper Manhattan) that is 10 minutes from where I live. That area is mainly populated by Russians, Jews and Dominicans.

Luck is not on my side and the place have been closed. Looks like they're renovating and is going to open with a different name... Rapidly and under the rain I have to revise my options: there's a Japanese restaurant, a Starbucks two blocks on my way back and there's a new place that I haven't seen/been there before. Looks nice from the outside and it's not very crowded. So this is going to be: Saggio, my friends, ...let's drink Tequila in an Italian restaurant!!!. Why not? That's an option they already have in their full bar as a very helpful bartender tells me; she's so attentive, in her high boots, black attire...huh, so tight..She moves, maybe she glides with gracefulness exerting total control of her territory..owning the space is more appropriate. Ahhh!

                                                               Saggio with the Sushi Rest. next door

You know that cheating is allowed in The Bridge. Even if I said we were going to share a coffee it doesn't mean literally that we were going to drink coffee. My friend Sonia who I'm exchanging SMS with, warns me that this is an excuse I'm using to go out and have some drinks. I absolutely agree. We need excuses in our lives to do things that look good to ourselves (do our conscience need the reassurance?).

First glass of tequila on the rocks. The first sip takes place at 8:24 PM local time (20:24). Gosh!, I can't take pictures of the inside of Saggio. I feel some shyness that I can't overcome sitting there in the counter. It has an L shape and I sit in the shorter side of the letter. The main door is behind me. Also four or five guys in high chairs with their backs to the glass walls facing the street share their lively conversation and beers in a high and loud pitch. In front of me there's this girl having a glass ... two glasses of white wine..three?. Our eyes never met. Looks like we were trying very hard to ignore each other.

There's soft rock music in the air... the 80, 90, older? No, you can't hurry love, no no! Perhaps. They mix it very well and this is the second tequila glass. I need extra lemon slices. Salt will always do some good. I hear some voice asking permission for sitting on the chair next to me. I nod with a slight gesture of my head and continue writing in the Moleskine... I hear the guy choosing a glass of Red Wine... a couple came for pasta and just left but two new guys replace them.. Cocktail? Bloody Mary? Who knows and who cares? I realized I've been a little rude with the guy next to me. Probably he came here because he wanted to have some conversation. Maybe I can fix it... Oh yes! His name is Chris. We're having an engaging and intelligent conversation. Now he knows why I am here, oh! he's a painter "on the side". Acrylic is what he does. Interesting, no doubt but more interesting is that after my conversation the two guys having the cocktails started talking to the painter. Unbelievable, they all live in the same building (Mr Chris have an apartment there for eight years) and looks like is the first time they talk to each other...

I was supposed to stop here (It's now past ten) but I ask for a third Tequila....I just got carried away for such a nice company and I'm not talking about Lisa, the bartender, Chris, the painter, the other people inside the bar, or the noisy guys, no no...

The show is on!

It's been a while since my last post here. I had almost forgotten the thrilling feelings I got every time I was in the process of writing for the Bridge, feelings that stayed until some kind of entry was finally posted.

Well, not in a state of oblivion anymore! Because right now I'm having these unmistakable sensations that are clear signals of the emotions and feelings my mind and my body are going through. Because as Sophie had already said, we're coming back. Because in fact we're back!

The scenery is prepared and the show is once again on!. Please, close your eyes. No..., no, leave them open, otherwise you're not going to read the words that will come out from myself and my dear partners . Yes, leave them wide open but at the same time close them -figuratively, so you can have a better taste of what is coming... Supposedly we are programmed to enjoy and have a better taste of things with our eyes closed... Who am I to challenge those assumptions?

But instead of food, we are going to taste words, the power that is conferred to them to describe and represent objects, our relationship with those objects and the feelings, the sensations, the emotions that come from experiencing with such things, plus all the other possible combinations that could exist as a result of these interactions.

Here I have to confess something... It was my secret until now that I decided to tell everything (ah! not longer is going to be my secret). The thing is that The Bridge was born to allow extremely shy people (they know who they are) to speak out, to express themselves in a way that could show their incredible writing skills. It would be a sin not to share their craft with the rest of the world (in theory). And I feel less guilty too: sharing is caring! No?

Yes, The Bridge is a platform that gives certain people the spur and the spark for doing what they do best: thinking, writing, entertaining... Also these people (at least one of them) are quite lazy and unless they have some kind of company or project on the horizon they do nothing and go through life just as contemplative living creatures.

But no more doing nothing! The new season promise new adventures, new ideas and renewed energies. That's why we have Grace (she's amazing) with us... right? But I forgot to tell you what is coming... Well, the truth is we don't know yet. The creative team is going to meet one of these days and then you'll see what will come out from that..

So, no more preambles: fasten your seat belts and enjoy the ride... (We definitely will!).

Welcome 2011!

I was just thinking, I should write one more post for The Bridge before the end of 2010 and before the beginning of 2011. And yes, it has been decided without much thinking that something like it deserves to be done at this moment and time that I'm writing this - 9:55 PM local time - as a courtesy to all of us.

And this is it.

It's very good to finish a year and start a new one with a bang. Right?

First of all I want to thank Sophie for being such a terrific partner in the execution of this experiment and I want to thank all of our followers as well and all of our readers that are not our followers for supporting and standing behind us all the way since the beginning of this bridge.

So far it has been a great honor and pleasure for me to contribute with this project. I must say that there were a lot of things that I wouldn't have done if it was not because they'd ended up in a post in The Bridge. Let me add that it was always a joy, it was a lot of enthusiasm that I felt doing those things; I never thought about the plan, our plannings as if it was a hard thing to do or a burden, a task that had to be carried out. But quite the contrary. Because The Bridge has been more than a blog for us, it has been a way to experience life like it is and beyond; it has been a way for us to go out and discover things and later transforming, translating those things into words..and into The Bridge.

Right now I don't know what the future of The Bridge holds but I look forward to bring again some more highlights of the way I see life, my 'uninteresting' life, the things that interest me here in NY in 2011.

One thing won't change though and that is my search for all things harmonious, all things beautiful, that old idea of beauty and symmetry that should be present in all of us for making our existence meaningful, valuable and livable altogether.
Interesting that recently I hosted a famous Latin American novelist and while we traveled the city she was discovering and complaining about all the bad things of NY. Dozens of things and for me none of those things she was pointing at really bothered me at all even if I had to concede that she was right most of the time.

Maybe I am an insensitive person! No, no, I prefer to think that I'm more interested in discovering the good side of life, the good side of New York than the bad, the ugly side of anything. The same with the world. Because there's enough sadness, enough pain, a lot of unhappiness, why should I focus myself in bringing out more of the same?
That's what differentiates Fernando from the rest. He's trying to bring an alternate way to see things, to counterbalance what is obvious in this world: the big mess. So I prefer not to see certain things, not to speak in a certain way, and to avoid people or stuff that is distasteful to my senses.

I'm more willing to focus myself in other matters, other issues, other ideas. For example: the idea of beauty seduces me. And let me explain a little bit. You don't have to be beautiful to appreciate things that look, sound or smell beautiful. In fact since we don't make ourselves, so there's no merit or discredit for possessing or not some of the features we find in things that are (or we think they are) beautiful. What is remarkable, however, is our interest to cultivate, to have the ability to appreciate everything that looks good to the eyes and ears, that looks good to the heart or the mind. What is important then is to have the beauty inside, to have the capacity to if not producing something that is beautiful, at least internalize the mechanisms that allow us to appreciate what is magnificent, fascinating, admirable.

That should be one of my New Year's top resolutions for 2011: to continue looking for beautifulness in all the big and little things life bring to us and trying to avoid at all costs the ugly or misery part of life that is always lurking behind our backs. Not very different from the previous one. Not very different from any other year. Because our priorities in life don't really change that much for the passing of one year to the next.., to the next but for other reasons..

         Far away and from the distance the Empire State building wearing blue and white colors the night of December 5th.

¡Feliz Cumpleaños 'Bu'!

New York City, Saturday, 27th of November 2010.

It's the following morning after a night of unrestricted liberties at home. Letting myself go freely has its consequences that I have to pay today as a result of experiencing too much of Jameson induced good feelings.

As you can imagine the brain doesn't respond easily to the commands coming from the mind. Neither its counterpart, the body, can work its way out of its sluggishness. Both the body and the mind are trying hard to find the spark that would set them in motion just for facing the light challenges of an worry free day like it is the beginning of the weekend.

But suddenly the woes start eventually to fade. A couple of  SMS had the power to shake things up. All the lassitude of the world leaves way to some clear path of action that was not so clear just moments ago.

Exactly between 11:06 and 11:16 AM:

"In one hour? Nice hot drink. What do you think?"

"One and a half! If you mean chocolate or tea or coffee"     ...

 .... "One and a half then," .....

That was it. That was the most important part of the exchange that provided the leverage I desperately needed to jump start my day and after a very hot shower I was more than ready to move around and go out and encounter the world. That meant not staying at home and instead walking from my house for ten minutes in the direction to the Yankee Stadium, home of the most successful Pro-team in the world but not to see the Yankees or anything related to sports but to the Hard Rock Cafe branch inside the Stadium. They must have something hot in there.

As soon as I leave the house I'm welcomed by very strong winds that make the cold feel really cold. It's not a joke, a slap in my face is how it feels like but I don't complain. It's true that those winds get through my 4 layers of clothing (which resulted insufficient for the occasion) and pierce my body but they make me feel alive too.

Around 1:00 PM, I'm already at the counter of the Hard Rock Cafe. Only coffee I can ask to the young lady that is serving me on the other side of it; no chocolate, no tea as I'd have preferred. You know, coffee is the first thing useful I make in my mornings and today was not the day I was going to miss it. This is one of these days I need it the most.
Anyway, just regular American coffee is what she has, not a fancy one like that showing in the menu, but it is hot and meets all the requirements I had agreed to share with Sophie! So, I go for it, not once but twice with a refill that the lady pleasantly offered herself to bring.

A couple of sips of my second coffee and I want to trade it for a beer. I'm just listening to Paul McCartney on the many screens of the bar..., Bob Marley follows Paul.

People come and go on my right side of the counter. Others occupy tables to my left. Entire families or just couples rejoice themselves taking turns and pictures around a huge guitar behind the reception desk on the right side of the door.

The tourists: I like them, I like to see the excitement reflected on their faces. They're in the Hard Rock Cafe. Not any Hard Rock but the one at the Yankee Stadium, the home of the mighty Yankees of New York. I envy this people because I don't have what they have: I left my emotions behind....I'm now a local guy who can't feel what they feel and has to relive the experiences through their eyes. They have to live and show their feelings so I can live and experience them as well.

Oh gosh! What a complication of life!

What is not a complication for me is to find a reason to trade the coffee for a beer or for something else, something stronger or much more 'poisonous' as you may be tempted to think. Here I have to confess that I can spend days and weeks without drinking anything besides water but once I start it's easy for me to continue for days or weeks as well.

Last week the Irish coffee opened the gates, Thursday was Thanksgiving day in the United States, a special holiday where people show their appreciation emptying the merchandise in the Liquor Stores and I was not the exception. I just followed the trend.

Yesterday was Friday and today the 27 of November it's Pichiplayas or Bu's Birthday. How could you not celebrate? Even if you were not in the mood you put yourself there. And now I'm just not ordering a beer but a Mojito because that goes much better with the lively spirit of this beautiful Spaniard that today celebrates her 19th birthday.

However I think one Mojito is not enough so I'm asking for a second one because the occasion is perfect to recognize how important it is to count on her in our lives, the enchanting and always cheerful friend who day and night makes our life less stressful with all her charm.

If you don't believe me just take a look at her here!

Isn't she like the sunshine? Or like the sunrise and easy as a Sun-day morning? I won't get upset if you want to compare her with a full moon in the middle of the sky at midnight.

For me, however, the most important thing I admire in her it's that at her tiny age she's like one of us, a real person, curious and thirsty of knowledge, looking for wisdom, meaning or answers to life questions with always a smile in her face, always... Add just her love for music and you just have the complete package.

"Another Mojito, please"  She really deserves that in her name I drink this third one!

Yeah! For her, in her name, we wish her a very Happy Birthday (Dear B......)!

Cheers Sophie! ...And thanks!

Music: the other bridge

New York, Saturday, September 25, 2010.

It's laissez-faire Saturday, which means we, Sophie and I, can do whatever we want. We're on our own. But doing whatever we want still means we are going to do something. And this is good. Like doing a post or maybe two: one today, because Fernando, who is me, feels like it, and another one perhaps another day.

It was good that we decided it this way because today I feel like garbage or maybe it is not good because when we feel bad we get better if we have to do something in spite of our crappy feelings.

Headache, backache; the question I ask to myself: is the head where it's supposed to be? I don't know.

Temperature changes up/down/up in the recent days plus some poor/bad habits that can't be discarded could have been the triggers behind feeling like trash. It's in days like this that you need to be well armed against all those thoughts and questions that come to your mind about the purpose of life.

Immediately the dichotomy between body and mind comes to your mind and you can't help but feeling hostage inside your own body.

It's true, in moments like this you realize you can't escape from those ties. Your wellbeing, all, depend on how well you feel about yourself and things get a little contradictory here because a Doctor told Daniel (my dear brother), when things are fine with us we are not suppose to feel our bodies: we're not supposed to feel anything.

In fact, by the moment you feel something, some things in you are not good. Good Gracious!

A big part of being prepared or well armed for when you feel trashy is knowing what to do under the circumstances: like getting yourself a break, buying some stuff that should alleviate your physical pains and for the other pains -soul/existential-, music could be the perfect balm who'd alleviate all ills.... And here I should tell you a secret. Shh! Music, but not any music,  the good one, is the sole responsible for the connection, the bridge that today exists between Sophie and Me.

And for that I'm very grateful...

And the best way for me to show the gratitude to her and to the music is sharing both in the bridge but not like we usually do in Facebook. Today with no surprise I (gods willing) will be helped by planes and mailmen from two countries who'd carry the big task to bring pleasure to the ears of my nice co-blogger on the other side of the Atlantic.

However, not to be a bad guy I won't leave my dear Sophie nor our readers totally in the dark. Let me show you a little bit of  what she's supposed to receive..., here Hilary Hahn and below the introduction to Alondra de la Parra and her Philharmonic Orchestra of the Americas (sorry for the quality of the video) ... I like to please too, so, enjoy!

Some Jazz and 4 words can make your New York day worthy

New York, Saturday September 18, 2010.

Can I start this post talking about how tricky it is that someone else, not you, be the one who chooses when you have to do something but you don’t know, you’re uncertain when exactly that call will come? Evil, and I’m not kidding, it’s the most appropriate word that’d describe the situation you’re placed in when you are left with no clues of the time such call is coming... But it’s much worse if it is a self inflicted wound, if you Fernando and not other are the only one responsible in a certain way for having created such a scenario.

I didn’t know how powerful that context could be until I read the post Sophie wrote last week. Do you remember it? Let’s refresh your memory reading here. If you are a person respectful of the commitments you've made you don’t take lightly those you’ve agreed upon before and more if the other person has done her part of the deal. Had Sophie decided to send the ‘sign’ at 3:00 or 4:00 AM in NY time it’d had been perfectly valid and I’d had waken up to start my post for that day describing what I was doing at that precise moment I was receiving the message.

Thank god Sophie didn’t do that last Saturday but anyway, it really bothered me the whole week. Can you just imagine how powerful an idea is! Ideas are expressed or translated into words but there must be something hidden, something more profound that is beneath their surface and connect our beings in such ways that our lives could be shaken or turned upside down (or the opposite hopefully) as a result of the meanings implicit in them. I couldn’t help but start thinking how important it is the choosing of our words, the importance of them to express our world, our feelings and the way we experience it or perhaps change both if that were the case, just for altering the dynamic (some physics here) how we present them...

Let me say that I had decided not to do anything until I got a message from Sophie (that doesn't count as cheating) because I was sort of paralyzed and I couldn’t make up my mind of what I should be doing. But then I thought the best that I could do, maybe, would be to make plans that I’d develop as soon as I receive the ‘signal’. Well, actually I took a shower and put some clothes on to be ready and execute what later I could come up with.

At 3:09 local time I don't know if I have said it out loud (no, no, of course I didn’t): my moleskine!, my moleskine: where is my moleskine? Because I just received the SMS from Sophie...Ah, finally!!! And the message caught me lying on the couch with my notebook on my lap minutes after watching an amazing performance live via Internet thanks to Medici.tv (you have to register but it's worth the effort) and the Vienna Philharmonic with Gustavo Dudamel conducting the last appearance of the summer in the Lucerne Festival.

You see the power of words! Only four in this case ("now is the time") and suddenly everything had been cleared all of a sudden. All the paralysis, the black clouds dissipated like the works of a magician. What a devastating effect (good in this case) words have! It was time then to make a strong black coffee because probably I was going to need it later on.

Two things I had in mind: the Neue Galerie exhibition of Franz Xaver Messerschmidt and finally going to see Cyrille Aimée at the Cupping Room in Soho.
That exhibition of Mr Messerschmidt looked very promising (I love to read faces or expressions) and I immediately directed myself towards that location. But the gods not always work in our favor and I got late..., I thought it would be open until 9, and also took the train and didn’t stop where I was supposed to.

  

Nevertheless Cafe Sabarsky is right next to the Neue Galerie as part of the complex and I know how to entertain myself and convert such errors in calculation to my advantage... In cafe Sabarsky they honor their Austrian and German heritage. You can never go wrong with Classical music, more coffee and a very surprising and more than delicious glass of hot spiced Red Wine unsweetened. On the side an orange slice with cloves.

                                                                                                              
It was very tempting to stay more time at the Cafe. That wine was superb and all the items in the menu that were offered; dishes and appetizers not to be neglected. I resisted though all my urges; I know I’m not Dorian Gray nor Oscar Wilde, and another Cafe was waiting.

                                                                  

So, I decided to go ahead with my original plans and headed to see instead what became the real treat of the night: Cyrille Aimée.

                                                                  

And let me tell you she’s great, Jazz is great and all the Bordeaux I took there were worth all the money I paid for ...and while listening her velvet voice (Ella F. would envy her) and the effect the instruments, the battery, the guitar, the trumpet play in us I had some hypnotic trance going... Hey, what a strange thing the rhythm of the music that transport us to realms where time has no existence!

Brooklyn Bridge: second and final part

Second parts are not always good. And this one has not the pretension to challenge the assumption. But you have to do this part because you have to finish what you've started just to close it, not to leave it open, so later it can't come to hunt/haunt you (as Sophie would put it) even if the results are not great.

If I'm not mistaken I was supposed to walk over the Brooklyn Bridge from one end to the other.
And if my memory doesn't mislead me, I did walk over it. That same day of August 28th, 2010. Oh yes, I still have my notes. And other evidence that I did.
                                                              

                                                              
For more than a year I used to pass by car over the BB 2 times a day 5 days a week. Now, the schedule has changed to 2 times per week and from the car, one level up, we always can/could see the people walking over us on a platform located on the center of the bridge day in and day out.

The feeling was/is always the same: wanting to trade places with those people but looking like it'd never take place. Going to or coming from work in the mornings and afternoons was not the perfect time to really do it. You save a lot of inconveniences having your own means of transportation but you miss a lot of things for not taking public transportation and this was one of them.

Life and their paradoxes! You want things when you can't have them or having them is always at the expense of something else. You can not have everything!... Or maybe you can but not at the same time. And that's why I left the car behind, so I wouldn't be tempted to withdraw until I had completed the intended task.

I remember I was there then exiting the train 4 in the first stop on the Brooklyn side after leaving Manhattan a couple of minutes before. I didn't know yet how to take the Bridge if the purpose was to try to cross-walk-over-it.  But who was I going to ask?

Well, you know, it's much harder than it seems to find a friendly face who can give you directions about how to take the BB on foot. Because you should know that the key to whom we have to ask is in people's faces. It's surprising the amount of information that humans (but not only humans) can hold there. All emotions or lack there of are there in people's expressions for us to read. And you don't have to be an expert like Paul Ekman to interpret them. Have you seen the new series based on his work: lie to me?
And some people use them like shields. They can look bad or mad as a way to protect themselves against being approached. What a misery of a life! Like that one that just passed me by...
On occasions like this what works is to go with our gut feelings because it rarely fails.

Finally after some trial and error (Oh no: Russians!) and with the help of a friendly female (some women are great willing to give directions) I got my way to start cruising the Brooklyn Bridge.
Yeaahh!

                                                                                                                      And you know what? It's not that bad! After doing it, now I think that if you really and truly believe or feel like you are a New Yorker you shouldn't leave this just to tourists.
In fact you should do it more often...It's very good for people's health and for lazy people it could help to have some work-out at the same time they enjoy the most beautiful views of lower Manhattan, the other bridges (Manhattan Bridge, Williamsburg bridge Triboro bridge) the statue of liberty (very far away, indeed) and as a bonus on the horizon, the Atlantic Ocean and the sky, where they just get confounded in such a vague and imprecise line....       (Here I'm going to stop, I don't want to say how thirsty that walk left me and not precisely the kind that is quenched with water)...

Sushi Afternoon in Queens? Not really!

Saturday in New York, September 11, 2010.

I watch the clock in New York and I ask myself: why not? Immediately I take my phone and write a short message to Sophie in Paris that reads: It’s 4:02 PM local time, 10:02 PM your time. Let’s build this bridge!

Today becomes some kind of a surprise day choosing the time for me and at this specific hour of the day (or night) as in previous occasions we shall stop what we’re doing, take our Moleskines (my Dear Sophie and I) and tell in writing what’s going on right now, at this very moment I’m sending this message. Thanks Sophie for insisting to give me the honor of picking the time!

It was supposed to be a Sushi Afternoon in Queens, New York, (paraphrasing Sophie’s Sushi's nights in Paris - I know: I’m not original at all) if it were not because my beloved friend Sonia with whom I have agreed yesterday to meet at TOMO, texted me earlier, at midday, to ask me to bring her favorite soup, cancelling indirectly our encounter there, because she was not feeling well and only slept for an hour or so the night before. 

We haven’t had Sushi  together in like 2 months (nor any other type of meal), but I can claim the afternoon’s Sushi in Queens NY without any discomfort because even though I’m not crazy about Japanese food, Sonia like Sophie and Pichiplayas loves Sushi too and weren’t we fighting like it's the norm between the two of us, I’m sure no desires for that dish would have arisen from the knowledge my Parisian friend was enjoying her exotic fish dinner the other night.

Oh, I said it! And now it’s too late to go back and fix it. Yes, Sonia who is also a very dear friend of mine (interesting the origins and meaning of her name), and I, we argue a lot. I don’t know if we spend more time not talking to each other than the time we really do talk, but when we do, we share a lot. We share almost everything: life’s troubles, all the pains, betrayals, deceptions, sadness but the little joys of life as well, like when she passed her Latin test at the university, the movies we watch in the big screen, the TV or the PC and even enjoy Claire Lefilliâtre when she came to NY. And here I remember I have almost to steal her from a date she had booked the same night of such a wonderful performance of Claire’s and Le Poème Harmonique.

Why we fight? I can’t name all the instances where we have disagreements, because there are so many. We fight for everything: little and not so little things. Sometimes we have opposing views about stuff. Not to go too far, I’m going to the pharmacy to buy some prescription for her: where do you want to go? For me it doesn’t matter. I could go to any of the two options I have. For her is like I’m indecisive and in reality I really don’t care wich one I go as long as I bring what I’m asked to bring. I could go anywhere. When we go out for breakfast, lunch or dinner she always knows what she wants. I don’t. And I don't feel ashamed at all for that. Most of the time I want to try new things. I know it's harder for her than it is for me because she has to wait until I make my choice but I feel a little constrained if I rush to make a decision. And we can always share if one of us has picked something more appetizing than the other. And the list of issues doesn't stop there: it goes on and on...but, who cares?

But even though our differences sometimes hit a big wall, time makes all the resentments go away and like today, they disappear and we don't hold any grievances, not bad feelings until a new round of arguments will sure come but another day. For now, for this Saturday, we're pausing and enjoying each other's company like we usually do in the best of our times.

So, for once I’m not alone, I’m in Sonia’s place and I’m with her and her mother and remember that she’s a little sick. 

                          Sorry!  I like this curtain! It's like watching reality through color lens...

Sometimes I’m very good at pampering and entertaining people specially if they are good friends, and Sonia is a very special one to me. I can’t tell you everything we talked; it'd fill one hundred pages if you don't get totally bored before quitting, but to sums it up we did speak a lot and about almost everything. It was like decompressing two months of repressed talk in more than a couple of hours.

                                                                             

                                                                                 

                  

I know one thing though. I'm sure we are going to continue having misunderstandings with each other but I’m almost sure we’re going to recover from those fights, like they had never happened before because the things that unite us are stronger than those that make us fall apart.    

(this one was not too long, right Pichiplayas?)

Wine, a kiss and some crying

New York, September 4, 2010

The sunlight is disappearing finally to give way to the millions of artificial lights flooding the air and everything: coming from buildings, streets, parks to fight the shadows that little by little take control over the city.  They are so bright and there are so many, they look like fireflies in the middle of the dark and it's their turn and they are ready to illuminate the concrete jungle of the NY night. Who remembers there are stars in the sky? In any case nobody needs them! At least not here and certainly not today!

                                                                  
I’m excited because yesterday I suggested to Sophie that instead of “meeting” her at the same time GMT we could instead share our experiences at the same hour but of our own times.

So, it’s 9:01 PM and probably I’m late, but I still can use ‘le quart d’heure Parisien’ as a valid excuse for my tardiness. I’m writing in a blog that has not clear jurisdiction, so I can use what is more convenient for me, right?... Not bad!

I’m interested in walking a little bit for the Lincoln center, The Metropolitan Opera or just go directly to a wine bar that is close by at 80th St., and Amsterdam Ave., in the Upper West Side where a friend of a friend works as a waitress. The whole purpose of proposing to Sophie changing the way of doing things is because I need the perfect alibi to go out and have some drinks. Recently I have changed my drinking patterns and I don’t drink as much as I used to do it but my body the last couple of days is craving for sensations that I know for sure is a cry call for alcohol.


Public transportation is the option then. I know for sure what’s going to be in my veins for a while and that doesn’t mix well with the police in case they caught me driving. And not that I’m a bad driver with a couple of cocktails, glasses of wine or 5 or 6 beers. It’s just because is better not to tempt the devil. Taking the train or a cab not a bus is the most advisable thing. Okay, the cab looks faster....mm-mh! not so fast.. After boarding one without negotiating the price first “le chauffeur” wants to rip me off.


If people pay the amount of money he is asking without complaining for such a short ride I should become a cab driver.

- I’m sorry Mr Chauffeur, tell me how much I owe you and leave me where ever you can!

And not other option left but the train is what I have to take.

And not time to wandering around and from my train stop I go directly to a Cave? No, to Cava  (if you follow the link you'll know what music they play) where I feel a little shy to take pictures.

                                                                          

No signs of my friend's friend here, I go to the counter because I like counters and I choose a corner because I like corners. Plenty of space in this tiny place. From the menu I ask for a glass of red wine from Spain: Cabernet-Sauvignon tempranillo.

Before finishing the first glass, I’m ordering some French cheese and while I’m there people come and go. Some are very friendly and others not so. The first group was the most interesting. It was a cheerful girl in her thirties, very attractive and two other guys. Looks like this was like the second or third stop in their tour... Without much introductions we soon started talking and laughing. When I was sending an SMS to Sophie she ordered me to stop using the phone and I have to do a little explanation. The cheese arrives and her expression changes. She is very impressed and delighted after I feed her a couple of pieces with my fork... Good things don’t last forever and she has to go...The night is just starting for her.. Oh, those dreadful phone calls!

She leaves but before leaving she kiss my lips. A soft kiss with such tenderness that I’m sure is going to hunt me the remaining of the night.
One or two more glasses of wine and I decide to go home. My sisters are having a barbecue next day which means I don’t have to satisfy all my cravings in one night.


On my way back to the train at one corner and protected by a telephone cabin I heard the cryings of a woman. It seems as if she were talking with someone by phone: her phone or the phone of the cabin. For me there’s nothing more troubling and disturbing than hear a woman cry.  I didn’t know what to do. I continued walking but stopped at the entry of the subway... It was impossible to leave. I went back and passed along the cabin where I could see only her legs: she was like encrusted inside there... I realized there was no way for me to be of any help without scaring her more than the tribulations she must have been enduring. And because I had to go back if I wanted to take the train I just realized by passing near the cabin that she was not there anymore: she suddenly disappeared as if she were swallowed by the strange forces playing in the night.

For some people life in NY is hard, real hard and it could be a little bit of everything but by any means not glamorous at all!

Rite of Passage?

Saturday, August 28th 2010.


It's 7:46 PM (GMT) and I'm in New York. That everybody knows; exactly where, will help us more to understand.


Where are we, it's the proper question I should answer then, because I'm surrounded not by the sound, even though we can make that case too (sound of voices, noises) but rather by a lot of people of all colors and nationalities like the melting pot New York is, and it's not strange that I don't recognize any face amongst (that's British) them, nor there's any hint they know who am I either. 


The question is if they could really do it, the recognition, because nobody looks at you straight into your face (could be perceived as offensive as well). And that's an interesting thing in how people in these environments try to avoid making eye contact with other people, situation that if you are curious enough like me you can use in your favor for just looking at them unscathed. In their effort to not confront you or somebody else they get defenseless against scrutinizing eyes like mine who study each and every one of their movements before they could even realize they have been watched or they could catch the watcher.


Nevertheless, it's not very safe to get too confident; looks like there's some sort of truth in the assertion 'the weight of the gaze' and it's probably why people seem to perceive when they are looked at and you have to be fast and stay one second ahead of them in changing deliberately the object/subject of your study to another subject for they don't discover the trespasser and the invader in you. Because the feeling of being caught is always so embarrassing and don't ask me why, I just know it doesn't feel any good and for me that's more than enough to try not being surprised in the act of doing it.


Probably you have guessed right that I am in one of those collective means of transportation that are so peculiar of the urban life in the big cities. I'm in the Subway or one of the cars of the fourth train to be more specific and my journey started at the stop of 167th St. and River avenue in the Bronx, one stop before the New stadium of the baseball club, The NY Yankees.


I left my car intentionally because how can you speak properly about life in NY or any other city if you don't/never describe what it is or how it feels to commute in the subway. But you don't have to be a hero either and it's better if you take it on a Saturday or a Sunday because to know what a pie tastes like, is enough if you eat just a piece and not necessarily the whole thing.


I'm heading downtown Manhattan (you should always want to go downtown) and if you pay close attention is quite amazing how the demographics inside the car changes from one stop to the next. The colors of the people change too, depending on, if you are in Harlem, Chinatown or close to Wall Street. Education (as always) plays a key role in how people behave, how they are dressed and how friendly their appearance is. You can also make an inverse correlation between the level of education some people exhibit and the street number where they make their regular stop. The lower the street where their stop is, the higher their level of education and the manners they possess. On the contrary, the higher the street number where the stop is, the lower...


Of course there are exceptions to every rule and that's not a bad say, and maybe there are many exceptions applicable to this one, but you get the idea how things are..


A couple of months ago I was visiting the Rubin Museum of Art who specializes in Buddhism and culture of the Himalayas. In one exposition they were comparing the meaning of death in the Buddhist and the Christian traditions and there was a vanitas painting with an written observation about how the ears could have been the work of demons because they are orifices that were left open on purpose in stark contrast with the eyes that we can shut them down at will like when in the presence of an horrible vision. We can't shut the ears when horrifying sounds threatens us and in the train unless we're using a device to counteract the noise around us, we can't help but listening to the conversation that is happening between a couple of young guys in their late teens or early twentieths. And they're talking fashion. Just imagine, there's a taste for everything: pants down showing their underwear and one of them is trying to cover his head with some sort of clothing band on top of another fabric, nylon perhaps, covering already his hair and half of his head.


In midtown Manhattan the scenario changes for the better and in this case is a young lady who gives us a good spectacle of what it takes to live in the city. She enters the doors of our subway car with her bike, a big bag on one of her shoulders and standing close to the doors -there's no empty seat available for her, she tries with her empty hand to hold on and read a book. At the same time she grasps of the bike with the other hand: just add the rocking of the train and you get a pretty good picture of what's going on....


At the 68th St stop in Manhattan it's 3:03 local time (8:03PM GMT) and I haven't spoken yet about the purpose of this trip. The thing is that this blog is about bridges, trying to build one and it's a shame I know nothing about them. I've been experiencing feelings of fraud for not knowing enough about bridges. At least Sophie built one in the front/home page of the blog. But What about me? So I decided I shouldn't allow this to be bothering me anymore. I took a bold decision -not that I'd want to know how it feels to jump off from one, but instead to have some kind of a 'rite of passage' with bridges.


The idea is to do something I have never done in NY. I made up my mind to cross/walk a bridge and the only one possible to do it is just one of the most memorable and historic bridges of New York City: The Brooklyn Bridge. This one connects downtown Brooklyn with downtown Manhattan and I'm going to do it from East to West, in other words, from Brooklyn to Manhattan.
I just passed Fulton St., Wall St., and the last stop in Manhattan that is Bowling Green and here we go to Brooklyn.

Let's go and let's see what this adventure with the Brooklyn Bridge (another BB) brings!

Capturing the Moment

It’s 9:59 AM local time (+5 = GMT). One minute before, one minute after 10:00 AM or 3:00 PM GMT  ­­­­­̶ depending on your preferences and location ­­­­­̶  , doesn’t make much of a difference to stop thinking about other things and sharing a moment of our time with Sophie and our dear comrades. I don’t have to be in any specific place to “capture the moment”. Liberating my thoughts from the restraints of my head and putting them down in this little notebook is all that I need to do specially if I get some red lights. They really help on this kind of situations.

What about the red lights? Very easy! Since I’m driving and heading Downtown via Broadway, I don’t hate them (I rarely use the word hate), au contraire, I like when the green/yellow turns red. It helps free my hands from the steering wheel and allows me to grab a pen and write very rapidly tiny notations of where I am, amongst other things. Let’s say that right now I’m at the intersection of Broadway and West 110th Street. But not for long.
In the meantime I’m listening to WQXR, the classical music radio station of NYC. They’re airing “Some enchanting evening” an excellent piece from the musical play South Pacific.

You can see on top what a nice place to drive is Manhattan on a Saturday morning. Yeah, everybody must be sleeping the Friday hangover and the city doesn’t look crazy at all, even though at 89 St. & Broadway is not known for being the worst spot to get into a traffic jam.
                                                                          

I turn right to take Columbus Ave., because even if it’s early, one should avoid the theater district that it’s further down Broadway where theaters are just only a few of the many attractions in the area that includes Times Square at 42nd St (madness) and extends various blocks on both sides of this very important avenue.
Columbus becomes 9th Avenue at 59th St. I think this is a nice place to park. Looks perfect at the corner of 58 and 9. Oh!, music of Turandot now on the radio: the Overture and March but I have to cut it off because I have to go and buy some parking time units for street parking at a rate of 12 minutes for 50 cents. You do the math. One hour should be enough?!

There are places here at this corner where I could go in but I don’t like them. Let’s have a walk to see what we can find. One of the things about NY (meaning downtown Manhattan) is that walking around is a real pleasure for the senses and this morning looks specially attractive with no crowds, nice weather (75°) and everything quiet: nothing is out of control. Not having a plan could be the best plan of all sometimes. Let life happen to me without preset schemes or limits on the horizon!

It’s 10:20 AM. Remember to add five if you want GMT or 6 if you want the time in Paris. I’m going East of 57th Street and right in the middle between avenues 9 and 8 I discover the ‘Istanbul Cafe’.

This is the place! Take a look at how it looks. Too early for people to come here, I imagine, but it’s exactly what I’m looking for. What a contrast with these colors: very nice to the eyes! I don’t have to think it twice and I’m going to seat at one corner. I like corners.  It’s the best way to see everything in perspective. In a few minutes a man with a strange accent approaches me. He’s the waiter. He sees my phone and gets excited. Immediately he starts talking/praising the phone without asking me first what do I want.  

- Did you download the new app to see videos?  Blah blah blah! About the strange accent, well, it seems that nobody is from here. Everybody comes from somewhere else. Another state (the United States), another country, another planet. Seriously, you encounter people so weird, so bizarre that you never know where do they really come from.
I ask for the menu but I want suggestions: Turkish coffee? ; Turkish tea? OK, let’s try the Turkish tea. He says it's very good and ...indeed it’s nothing but a delicious truth. Let’s take a look at the menu.

I brought with me a book. If I’m not working, in my spare time I like to have a book in my hands. It gives me some kind of comfort. It’s a habit that still remains in me for when I was a good reader. Having one within reach doesn’t mean that I’m going to read but it makes me feel good to think I can because I have one on hand. Like money on your pockets. It feels good to have some even though that doesn’t mean you’re going or you want to spend it. And probably works as a charm, it works as son kind of amulet. Today my amulet is ‘Assorted Poems’ of Susan Wheeler.

From the menu I choose a mix Panini (russian salad, pepperoni and cheese). With that I can survive the rest of my morning and more.
Wow! It’s so peaceful here, I don’t want to leave right now. What a nuisance when our lives, our desires are at odds with those mundane regulations. I want to stay longer here and I can’t because I left my car behind and if I don’t buy more time it’s almost sure I’d pay a hefty price. The art of predicting is real hard! And predicting feelings is a much harder thing to do. Had I known I was going to feel this good in this place I’d have bought more time for sure... Well, next time! But before leaving let's see how is inside (there's a back door that connects to an interior patio, as well):

For now let’s enjoy this mouth watering panini..., that is full of flavors from, let me guess: Turkey?, Russia? Italy? No, NY?...Oh, it doesn’t matter. As long as it tastes good nothing else really ....