(no subject)
on my way to the train tonight, after leaving the senior recital of a brilliant friend of mine, i was strolling through campus in the icy new york wind. at one point i passed a figure to my right, a woman bundled up in a sweater and a nylon vest, complete with a thick cap and hood surrounding much of her head. she was staring at one of the empty NYU buildings as i approached, and upon meeting glances we smiled at one another. 'hi' she said quietly in the wind. 'hi!' i shouted back, having moved past her at this point.
still walking forward, happy to have greeted a random stranger in the street, i heard another few words coming from her direction. i spun around, and she was looking at me, still smiling. 'what was that?' i asked. 'such beautiful architecture!' she said, motioning towards a dark and empirical-looking campus building, made of heavy, heavy stones. i was amazed, because she was right, and i've stopped maybe once in my life to truly examine the construction of the buildings of my university. the buildings all around us were truly very beautiful.
'yes!' i said. 'the architecture really is wonderful'. smiles on both sides.
so we began talking right there on the sidewalk. her name is Gloria, and she was raised in Columbia. she moved to new york in 1994, and then to Virginia a few years ago, and is now in the city visiting her family in Queens. 'i love to walk' she told me. 'i love to walk and see the beautiful city. i have very good shoes for walking.'
her accent was heavy and lovely, and her english was very good. her face was very attractive, especially when framed by her dark black hair which hung just below her chin, and i even imagined myself leaning down and kissing her at one point. her lips were pleasant. she had round, motherly glasses resting no her nose and she stood maybe 8 inches shorter than i, eagerly meeting my eyes with her own and listening to everything i had to say.
'i'm studying music. i love people, music, and i've been thinking a lot about what i can do to make the world a better place. i believe that people need to experience more love, and more art, and if they did we might all be in a better position.'
come to think of it, she never told me what she does for a living, what she's passionate about, or what she might have studied at one point in her life. she only said that she loves architecture, and she loves to walk. after explaining some of my current life philosophy to her, she smiled and said 'you must be very proud of yourself!' and asked my age. truthfully i am proud, i am happy to think so much and to feel so ready to spill my mind to a friendly stranger. but i told her 'no, i am not proud of anything, except that i am still alive today. i've done many stupid things in my life...'
'that is part of your education,' she told me.
'yes. i am 21 years old' i said. she looked very surprised, and i'm still not sure if it's because i don't look 21 (i'll never forget when that bartender told me i look like i'm 12 when i asked for a beer after playing a show there), or because she wasn't expecting such conversation from someone so young. laughing, she asked to see my ID and i happily presented it to her. 'my eyesight is not so good' she told me, and i leaned in as i pointed out my birthday on the little plastic card. '12, 06, 1988' she said, smiling. i chose not to ask her age, partly because it's the polite thing to do and partly because knowing would only make weirder the fact that i was oddly turned on by her presence. it was cold and windy there in the street, and neither of us had a problem with leaning in close to one another, whether it be in conversation or to observe the details of my ID.
we kept talking, of the coincidence of our virginia lives and of the coincidence of such a pleasant meeting in the street, and at one point she said to me 'i'm tripping'.
'tripping?' i asked, hesitant. for a moment, it all made sense. she was a spirit, floating through the city in a psychedelic cloud, happy to interact with me and happy to sit and stare at a building.
but that was not the case at all.
'it's the grass' she said. 'earlier in the night two young men walked past me smoking a joint, and i said to them 'have a nice night!' and they turned around and offered to share. we smoked their joint together, and then they sold me a little marijuana and we said goodnight. my head...' she made a circular motion with both hands. 'ahhh,' i said. 'that sounds wonderful!'
'i have a roach left, if you would like to join me,' she said.
'may i buy you coffee?'
'yes, and i will go to the bathroom and roll it for us.'
'okay!' i said.
and so we began walking. first to a starbucks whose bathrooms were locked (standing in line for drinks she came and tugged me by the arm: 'gabriel' she said in her tangy accent, 'the bathrooms are locked here, lets go somewhere else') and then to the Think coffee on mercer street which was sprinkled with studying college students and a gentleman who was waiting for his girlfriend to get off work. i ordered a small coffee and a mocha ('i do not eat chocolate' she said, 'i only drink it') and waited for her to come back from the bathroom.
'perfect!' she said as she reappeared, and a minute later we were back on the street, looking for a place to enjoy a puff of her joint. we weren't in any rush though, and perhaps 15 minutes passed as we strolled through greenwich village and then to a dark street with a bustling garden that was fenced-in next to the concrete sidewalks. leaning against a big stone wall and looking at that garden, we smoked the marijuana and tobacco cigarette together. when it was almost done, she put it out and saved it in her cigarette box. 'to be recycled later' she said. what a beautiful woman.
we moved on. from street to street, stopping to peer into store windows or up at the gothic architecture of various buildings along the way. at one point Gloria took my hand and pointed up, and said 'which of these, one, two, three, or four, do you choose?' in front of us were four very beautiful, but very different slabs of buildings, squeezed in next to one another along Broadway. each had its own characteristics and style, each offering an aesthetic that the other did not have. we discussed the windows, the columns, balconies and arches, everything we saw before us, and eventually made our decisions. 'i'd pick that one, number 3' i said. 'what about you?'
'i'd have to pick number one for its gorgeous arches. so tall' she said.
at one point we stopped at a movie theatre and she said that when she lived here in the 90s, she would always come to this theatre because it had great foreign films. looking at the posters, it was evident that this was true, and she got so excited about one of the posters that she wanted to go inside and see if it was playing. 'do you have time for a movie?' she asked.
'i do, but i don't really have the money.' i said.
'let me buy your ticket!' she said.
'no, that's very kind of you but no, to be honest i do have the money but i shouldn't spend it on a movie and also, i get bored in even the best of films. i have a hard time sitting through anything after a while.'
'ah' she said. it was okay though, because the movie she wanted to see wasn't even playing yet.
stopping by another movie poster she said to me that she found actor Andy Garcia to be very handsome. pebe, she said, meant attractive. i can't remember how she said it but at one point she turned to me and said in spanish what i understood to mean 'you are a very handsome and very cool young man'. i nodded and said 'gracias'.
'we are of different generations' she said softly.
'yes.' i said.
'but in this moment, we see one another eye to eye.'
'yes.' i said again. i lowered my head to her level, and we both laughed.
'it's so very nice to meet you Gloria' i said to her.
'the pleasure is all mine.'
we turned left at Broadway and made a few final stops, once to comment on the absurdity of a bright blue dress in a window, and once to see the buildings we had picked out previously. taking my hand again, she leaned into me and looked up at the sky. 'an airplane!' she shouted. 'and a star. or maybe a satellite.'
'maybe' i said.
i took her to the 8th street train stop and gave her a hug. 'will you write your name in my book?'
'yes' she said.
'pick a color.' she picked red.
i handed her the book and watched as she scribbled a message on the back of one of its pages. i have chosen not to look at what she wrote just yet, although i probably will after finishing this bit of writing. i suspect she wrote a message in spanish, which will be fun to decode.
she handed me the book back and we hugged once again, this time squeezing one another tight, like old friends might do. it was joyous.
'thank you for sharing!' she said.
'say hi to your family' i said.
'goodbye.'
and that was it. Gloria, my friend from Columbia, descended into the subway tunnel and i crossed the street for the downtown train. i was all smiles, and the chords i wrote the other night were blaring in my head. i will write you a song i said in my mind, and immediately set to work. the music from yesterday will be perfect for a song for Gloria, and i'm already buzzing with ideas.
i am so blessed in this life. to see someone new, and to become close friends, in the span of an hour and a half. to feel completely touched by another's existence. to be open, and sharing love, and sharing each other.
wow.
what a woman. and what a world.
thank you universe. thank you Gloria.
still walking forward, happy to have greeted a random stranger in the street, i heard another few words coming from her direction. i spun around, and she was looking at me, still smiling. 'what was that?' i asked. 'such beautiful architecture!' she said, motioning towards a dark and empirical-looking campus building, made of heavy, heavy stones. i was amazed, because she was right, and i've stopped maybe once in my life to truly examine the construction of the buildings of my university. the buildings all around us were truly very beautiful.
'yes!' i said. 'the architecture really is wonderful'. smiles on both sides.
so we began talking right there on the sidewalk. her name is Gloria, and she was raised in Columbia. she moved to new york in 1994, and then to Virginia a few years ago, and is now in the city visiting her family in Queens. 'i love to walk' she told me. 'i love to walk and see the beautiful city. i have very good shoes for walking.'
her accent was heavy and lovely, and her english was very good. her face was very attractive, especially when framed by her dark black hair which hung just below her chin, and i even imagined myself leaning down and kissing her at one point. her lips were pleasant. she had round, motherly glasses resting no her nose and she stood maybe 8 inches shorter than i, eagerly meeting my eyes with her own and listening to everything i had to say.
'i'm studying music. i love people, music, and i've been thinking a lot about what i can do to make the world a better place. i believe that people need to experience more love, and more art, and if they did we might all be in a better position.'
come to think of it, she never told me what she does for a living, what she's passionate about, or what she might have studied at one point in her life. she only said that she loves architecture, and she loves to walk. after explaining some of my current life philosophy to her, she smiled and said 'you must be very proud of yourself!' and asked my age. truthfully i am proud, i am happy to think so much and to feel so ready to spill my mind to a friendly stranger. but i told her 'no, i am not proud of anything, except that i am still alive today. i've done many stupid things in my life...'
'that is part of your education,' she told me.
'yes. i am 21 years old' i said. she looked very surprised, and i'm still not sure if it's because i don't look 21 (i'll never forget when that bartender told me i look like i'm 12 when i asked for a beer after playing a show there), or because she wasn't expecting such conversation from someone so young. laughing, she asked to see my ID and i happily presented it to her. 'my eyesight is not so good' she told me, and i leaned in as i pointed out my birthday on the little plastic card. '12, 06, 1988' she said, smiling. i chose not to ask her age, partly because it's the polite thing to do and partly because knowing would only make weirder the fact that i was oddly turned on by her presence. it was cold and windy there in the street, and neither of us had a problem with leaning in close to one another, whether it be in conversation or to observe the details of my ID.
we kept talking, of the coincidence of our virginia lives and of the coincidence of such a pleasant meeting in the street, and at one point she said to me 'i'm tripping'.
'tripping?' i asked, hesitant. for a moment, it all made sense. she was a spirit, floating through the city in a psychedelic cloud, happy to interact with me and happy to sit and stare at a building.
but that was not the case at all.
'it's the grass' she said. 'earlier in the night two young men walked past me smoking a joint, and i said to them 'have a nice night!' and they turned around and offered to share. we smoked their joint together, and then they sold me a little marijuana and we said goodnight. my head...' she made a circular motion with both hands. 'ahhh,' i said. 'that sounds wonderful!'
'i have a roach left, if you would like to join me,' she said.
'may i buy you coffee?'
'yes, and i will go to the bathroom and roll it for us.'
'okay!' i said.
and so we began walking. first to a starbucks whose bathrooms were locked (standing in line for drinks she came and tugged me by the arm: 'gabriel' she said in her tangy accent, 'the bathrooms are locked here, lets go somewhere else') and then to the Think coffee on mercer street which was sprinkled with studying college students and a gentleman who was waiting for his girlfriend to get off work. i ordered a small coffee and a mocha ('i do not eat chocolate' she said, 'i only drink it') and waited for her to come back from the bathroom.
'perfect!' she said as she reappeared, and a minute later we were back on the street, looking for a place to enjoy a puff of her joint. we weren't in any rush though, and perhaps 15 minutes passed as we strolled through greenwich village and then to a dark street with a bustling garden that was fenced-in next to the concrete sidewalks. leaning against a big stone wall and looking at that garden, we smoked the marijuana and tobacco cigarette together. when it was almost done, she put it out and saved it in her cigarette box. 'to be recycled later' she said. what a beautiful woman.
we moved on. from street to street, stopping to peer into store windows or up at the gothic architecture of various buildings along the way. at one point Gloria took my hand and pointed up, and said 'which of these, one, two, three, or four, do you choose?' in front of us were four very beautiful, but very different slabs of buildings, squeezed in next to one another along Broadway. each had its own characteristics and style, each offering an aesthetic that the other did not have. we discussed the windows, the columns, balconies and arches, everything we saw before us, and eventually made our decisions. 'i'd pick that one, number 3' i said. 'what about you?'
'i'd have to pick number one for its gorgeous arches. so tall' she said.
at one point we stopped at a movie theatre and she said that when she lived here in the 90s, she would always come to this theatre because it had great foreign films. looking at the posters, it was evident that this was true, and she got so excited about one of the posters that she wanted to go inside and see if it was playing. 'do you have time for a movie?' she asked.
'i do, but i don't really have the money.' i said.
'let me buy your ticket!' she said.
'no, that's very kind of you but no, to be honest i do have the money but i shouldn't spend it on a movie and also, i get bored in even the best of films. i have a hard time sitting through anything after a while.'
'ah' she said. it was okay though, because the movie she wanted to see wasn't even playing yet.
stopping by another movie poster she said to me that she found actor Andy Garcia to be very handsome. pebe, she said, meant attractive. i can't remember how she said it but at one point she turned to me and said in spanish what i understood to mean 'you are a very handsome and very cool young man'. i nodded and said 'gracias'.
'we are of different generations' she said softly.
'yes.' i said.
'but in this moment, we see one another eye to eye.'
'yes.' i said again. i lowered my head to her level, and we both laughed.
'it's so very nice to meet you Gloria' i said to her.
'the pleasure is all mine.'
we turned left at Broadway and made a few final stops, once to comment on the absurdity of a bright blue dress in a window, and once to see the buildings we had picked out previously. taking my hand again, she leaned into me and looked up at the sky. 'an airplane!' she shouted. 'and a star. or maybe a satellite.'
'maybe' i said.
i took her to the 8th street train stop and gave her a hug. 'will you write your name in my book?'
'yes' she said.
'pick a color.' she picked red.
i handed her the book and watched as she scribbled a message on the back of one of its pages. i have chosen not to look at what she wrote just yet, although i probably will after finishing this bit of writing. i suspect she wrote a message in spanish, which will be fun to decode.
she handed me the book back and we hugged once again, this time squeezing one another tight, like old friends might do. it was joyous.
'thank you for sharing!' she said.
'say hi to your family' i said.
'goodbye.'
and that was it. Gloria, my friend from Columbia, descended into the subway tunnel and i crossed the street for the downtown train. i was all smiles, and the chords i wrote the other night were blaring in my head. i will write you a song i said in my mind, and immediately set to work. the music from yesterday will be perfect for a song for Gloria, and i'm already buzzing with ideas.
i am so blessed in this life. to see someone new, and to become close friends, in the span of an hour and a half. to feel completely touched by another's existence. to be open, and sharing love, and sharing each other.
wow.
what a woman. and what a world.
thank you universe. thank you Gloria.