The Weekend...

Friday afternoon, I set out to get some coffee. I had only plans to go around the corner to one of my favorite coffee shops, Gimme! Coffee. I didn't even bring my phone. I just brought my reading book and an umbrella.

I got my coffee and the next thing I knew I was at the hardware store talking with the clerk about the new biodegradable shopping bags they were now using. I also picked up some more copper wire and a paint edger while I was there.

The next thing I knew, I was on the train headed towards my new apartment and new studio. The rest of the afternoon and evening, I spent painting my studio until I ran out of paint. I'm using Bardsley Grey from the Ralph Lauren's Regent Metallics line. As much as it's green and grey, it looks almost like an antique bronze.

When morning came, I decided to explore my new neighborhood. It's an interesting mix made up primarily of Chinese and Latinos. It still hasn't been touched by developers and is delightfully devoid of luxury condominiums. I like best the bay windows in almost all the buildings and the surprising gargoyle here or there. As it was a holiday weekend, those who didn't have to work were out relaxing with their families and everyone was in good spirits.

I walked to Sunset Park, about six or seven blocks away from my new apartment. I looked out on the horizon and saw so many different things. I kicked myself for not bringing a camera, but I hadn't intended on any expeditions. So, I picked a point in the horizon and I made my way towards it. And then I found another, and made my way towards that. I saw St. Michael's and the beautiful crumbling building next to it, then walked mostly along 4th Avenue. I made a few detours whenever I saw something that caught my eye, but for the most part, I stayed along where the R/N train runs. I saw where the Living Room Lounge is finally and walked around Green-wood Cemetery and stopped for coffee at the Root Hill Cafe. I walked through the DanceAfrica street fair at BAM.

My favorite places were the ruined ones, the crumbling places that weren't shiny and new and had wild grasses and bent trees twisting up from fallen bricks. Those places, where the bird songs were almost deafening were my favorites. The wind seemed a little bit thicker there, as though the ghosts of the place were passing through your fingers.

Eventually though it got dark and I realized that I had been without my phone or connection to the world for some time and that there were probably people who needed to get in touch with me. I eventually found an entrance to the G train at Fulton street and took the train back, savoring a day spent all on my own in quiet meditation with the ghosts of Brooklyn.