This morning I awoke around 5am. I tossed and turned until 5.30, then brought Peanut to the park. In under an hour I walked past a castle, through a pine forest, around three bodies of water and past a hand-full of iconic artwork. Oh and there was also a carousel and ice-skating rink involved.
Lily Peanut was off the leash the whole time, sniffing the occasional furry companion. Smiling and dancing about.
I thought about life, how much I love this city, the immensity of this planet, the stacks of occurrences I could never get my head around…
I returned to my Hell’s Kitchen hideout and sipped pineapple juice with a sleeping princess at my feet. I’m about to get back to Novel.
America is certainly a land of opinions. Something I will always value about the decade I spent in Australia was feeling so far away from anything I ever knew. Somehow, New York City brings me the same comfort. It’s a country inside of a country to me. The diversity, dynamics and offerings of this town are unparalleled in the US.
I think this year I might travel west or south to see what’s going on in the rest of the country. I imagine I’ll enjoy seeing a different slice of life. That said, New York City finds a new vein to route itself through my body every day. The life that this city has invited me to manifest over the past 16 months is ineffable. I returned a broke, confused, heart-broken Writer with a busted compass and lost travel companion. The city sculpted me into an executive of language nested in Manhattan’s guts. Down the street from Central Park.
Man, sometimes I think my blog posts are getting so boring. I doesn’t bother me too much though, because life has again proven her magnificence. And the stories… well…
Back to the stories.