I cannot sit still in summertime.
Let me explain this fact further: I am literally over-stimulated from May to September, as warmth and excitement blankets our city. The constant need to move, move, move and bounce from one thing to the next grows in humid weather, like metal expanding in the hot, sticky sun.
The blog has been silent these last several weeks.
But I’ve been out of town!
And I needed to play in the resurrected, summer sun!
< Insert numerous excuses with dramatic punctuation here! >
It’s also worth mentioning that my current job has me writing and editing streams of exclamation point and emdash-filled paragraphs for most of the day. Obviously I love what I do, but I’m rarely enthused to rush home to my computer—you wouldn’t be either (emdash!).
Still, I opened up that daunting white, blank Word Doc tonight because summer has already started; stories are continuously unfolding; New York keeps turning whether I want to write about it or not.
And then I remembered.
(After some poking and prodding…)
I do want to record this city’s narrative—and our narratives—even if it means finding the time at 3AM to jot down an idea, or type up that ever-elusive prequel to a “brilliant” thought.
As E.B. White once said, when talking about New York City no less, “[C]reation is in part merely the business of forgoing the great and small distractions.”
One of you special 400 to 500 who still read this dusty ol’ blog.
Don’t let me forget what I just typed.
The conquering of summer has already started! Here's what's been happening in my neck of the woods:
Pianos have been played.
Goodbyes have been made.
I’ve gotten my first sunburn of the season,
And sat on countless rooftops for no good reason.
We all took a jazzy step back in time,
And visited our favorite dive bar—covered in grime.
There were Tony Awards to watch in Time Square,
As well as Shakespeare to hear in the glorious night air.
We danced on a boat,
And read a sidewalk quote,
And realized there is always something beautiful to note.