There is a transition when one is in New York. I arrived and I had this nasty back pain, so I was feeling vulnerable. New York seemed sinister to me. Like, it was a place that really wanted to mow me down. Of course, it’s never fun to have any sort of illness when you are alone and “traveling”.
So, all I could feel was the harshness of the environment. People were too close. The air was too thick. The subway was too dirty. Queens was too filled with immigrants.
But then, my back got better. And suddenly, the perception has changed. The people seem fun. The air seems breezy. The subway seems convenient. The Indians and Peruvians in Jackson Heights seem like the best people on earth.
Chronic pain seems like a bad thing. But if you can ride through it, the other side gives you a different glimpse of living. So, a little chronic pain, as long as it eventually goes away, is actually kind of interesting.
Sidebar: The Indians have hooked up with the French and they are making wine. It’s very good.
Another sidebar: Susan Golomb, a very good agent, passed on my book today. She liked the writing but can’t seem to find the “hook” or the “universal appeal”. Well, who ever can, really?
Honesty, in its most un-mucked-with form, seems to be so hard to sell. This American culture seems, to me, so silly.
I love my Danish Modern Desk.