Although it’s clear that the frequency of my posts is dwindling as I reach the almost two-year (100 posts!) mark of this blog, once in a while something happens that I want to share. Perhaps I should say something that I find time to share – that’s the larger factor. A busy, busy day at work seated without moving away from the computer doesn’t inspire a desire to sit down in front of one at home. I haven’t even watched Netflix in ages, just because the last thing I want to look at once I get home is another computer screen. I’m sure some of you can relate.
Anywho, last weekend I ventured to some old haunts on the East Coast. Visited a friend in Northamption, as well as one in Boston…hit the Red Sox game on the 4th of July, as well as the Fireworks extravangaza on the Esplanade…went to NYC for work, as well as play…visited family in NJ, etc. Lots of running around…lots of planes, trains, (busses), and automobiles…lots of different guest beds. Not very restful, but loads of fun.
This trip to NY, I had the chance to visit an area of the city I had never spent much time in before (during retail hours, anyway) – the Garment District. I could have spent days there. I could have spent thousands of dollars there. I could have designed costumes for all of Rio’s samba schools there. Everywhere I looked I saw something glittery and shiny and wonderful, and my whole being seized with pangs of desire to acquire. Somehow I managed to make fairly reasoned choices and not succumb to a total buying frenzy of sequins and rhinestones and feathers and fabric…though it was a challenge. I would love to do a whole post on the trim stores alone, but they weren’t keen on photographs being taken of the wares, so I just soaked it all in and tried not to go crazy with the purchases. But, oh – B&Q – you are a marvel.
The “magic” to which I referred in the title wasn’t related to the glorious shiny wonders in the Garment District, much as those captivated me. It was this one moment where it seemed to be snowing…in the middle of Manhattan…in the middle of July. People stopped and stared skyward. They pointed. They discussed possibilities and shrugged their shoulders in confusion. I just paused and admired and shot a little (mediocre) video.
(Full screen mode works best to see it.)
At one point a woman walked by and barked out “It’s soap, people! Someone is just washing windows up there.” I was simultaneously annoyed – why spoil the mystery with your rational mind? – and a little sad for her, that she couldn’t just enjoy a little moment of unexpected beauty and imagination, no matter the source. Then I realized that home, in the rush of my daily routine, that woman might have been me. I don’t think I would have said it aloud, but I might have thought it. A shame that it takes a new environment and a stepping outside our own narrow worlds to be able to see the magic around you. I wish I could see it all the time…