You've made your home a haven from your city
, a friend told me.
It's true. The city feeling less and less familiar, street life
now inhabit original glass art
and cats found on the street and a collage of re-appropriated furniture from friends, neighbors, garbage day and Craig's List, all reminding me of her
and him and them and that time we and once upon our days.
I now look down to see what I miss. Yeah, yeah, their faces were very interesting. But the picture I took of their faces was more like the story others might tell when they went "back home" to other neighborhoods in other states and shared over holiday dinners or at a wedding rehearsal dinner what's it like to live here.
The picture I took of their shoes, however rushed and surreptitiously snapped, tells me a story of how I never left where I came from and and yet all the worlds I traveled through.
Summer Reruns of the Beginnings: My Private Coney
Cold Snap Encores: Sunday Memories Of St. Marks Place
Sunday Memories: Sunday Visits
We'll Always Have the Watertowers