Everyone has them, those moments when you feel as if you're walking on air. Sixty seconds where you say to yourself 'God I love this city, I don't want to be anywhere else'. They are so definitive, and truthful. Such moments of clarity. It almost feels like being captured during a game of hide and seek. Stumbling upon a percussionist, pounding superbly on his flimsy instruments in the street, I had one of those today. And following, many of the others came rushing back to me. Walking down 6th street, gazing at all the Indian restaurants and their beaming lights and colors, that feeling of unity and the eye contact made with other train passengers when a complete lunatic walks on shouting and flailing about, the smell of a dark, damp, off, off, off broadway theatre, finding the all too perfect cute, eclectic shoe that fits and is on sale, the way the sun sets on the gold domed roof atop this certain building downtown. One of my favorites of these moments was walking home last summer after seeing a documentary. A particular film I had been long awaiting for.(I only regret that I didn't smuggle in some red wine or a beer to have my own private toast during.) It was a hot, steamy summer day, the kind that just begs for the thunderstorm you know is lurking. I had missed the storm completely, and when walking home the air was, if possible, even steamier with massive puddles everywhere that I puposefully walked trhough. I meandered, my pace slow and casual instead of the standard New York-borderline-sprint, appreciating the heat after freezing in the cold a/c of the theatre, musing over the experience and just existing in the moment. Taking delight in all I have learned by living here.
It is ironic to me, how some of the best times to be had in this city are, without a doubt, experienced alone.