Wednesday afternoon I went outside for a cigarette with the Artist when I spotted the plastic bag floating high above Tenth Avenue. I laughed, and told him I watched American Beauty just last night and how silly that line was about beauty: so much beauty in the world, it’s all just too hard to take it. We both snickered and continued to watch the bag and that thing, no joke, it just flew straight across the sky like a dancer for at least five minutes, twirling and swooping and launching up higher until it hit a gust and flipped and spun elegantly close to oncoming traffic before zagging north down the avenue and rising back up above the buildings in a graceful arc. We were laughing, and I was smiling, this wide dumb smile and couldn’t stop, and eventually the bag just kept going over the rooftops and straight on to midtown, and I’m not kidding, we were like, shit, that is so so beautiful.
Subway MapSubway Philosophy is about New York, culture, sex, publishing, memories, alcohol, or a combination of the above. Originally taken from drunken musings on the subway, it has evolved into something extraordinarily similar to most young blogs: which is to say, redundant, romantic, and woefully introspective.
Current Subway ReadingWhite Teeth