Eating Apples.

I forget about this town sometimes. Sorry, city. The City. It’s as if this place is a universe of its own, with small solar systems spinning around at different paces within. Sunday I went on a nature hike with 45 000 other walkers, 6.5 miles of gridlock exercising, if you will. Granted, it was for a cause, successfully collecting some 7 million dollars to fight AIDS. Thursday I had an assignment to photograph a businessman in his office who subsequently announced he’d just lost two million(!) dollars overnight (ooops), and in the same breath offered me espresso. He didn’t even flinch. In fact, he smiled even more broadly. Wow. Then there was the wedding assignment in Tribeca, two lovers getting hitched at a loft, which happened to belong to a famous Pop artist, as in late 50s art. Casually he was wedding the couple, yet not casual at all, as I had photographed this same painter five years prior when his work had invaded the whole Guggenheim museum. I think they called it a retrospective. Hellonicetomeetyouagain, as I’m hoping my awe isn’t showing too much as my nervousness trickles out of my pores and stains my armpits. Awe! Sometimes this town, city, universal gridlock of a place is just too much to handle. In a good way. I think.