As the time slot approaches, I fall silent and watch the grid of tags move columns of text. This one should recirculate, that one receives a nod. Is this format correct? Are there characters remaining? Off and out the words gallop to meet each other, jumping columns like little acrobats or players bumping bricks with their heads for extra coins in an old video game. Up the words bound when lobbed by others! But the new sinks the old. Such is the rate of refresh.
Still, everything else falls away when I face this swift wall of ephemera on Friday nights. Happier here adjusting language, clarifying context than angling for cabs and chasing reservations, the external messages on other screens go unlooked at and unanswered. Finite parameters are exhilarating in this elastic city.
Groups gathering and taking actions at the same time are bound together in the shared experience of those acts. Seven of us sat near each other tonight, creating an event with the sum total of our small motions. This is how we find a measure of closure in the accounting for the week. We impose an artificial distinction to mark a pause before the tallying begins again, in earnest.
A few more days
A final Hi meeting
The local neighborhood bar has a quiet time between six and nine. It is a place that specializes in coffee, beer and seasonal menus. There is just enough of each for a satisfying snack and effective buzz. After the time when the laptop lids close and before the social gatherings start -- there is a sort of twilight*. Often this time is a fugitive ground rife with creative inspiration and meditative work -- of the kind that results in personal reward.*twilight may refer to civil, nautical or astronomical variety depending on your social or terrestrial condition
A man positions his mouse on the edge of his browser window. He clicks, holds and drags the viewport first left then right. The content of a video game promo micro site responds and adapts to the available space. To the man, this is more delightful than the game itself.
A man laboriously moves his piano down three levels onto the subway platform. Classic vocals and strided chords -- he played so well I swore he was blind. Oblivious to the heat on that August stage, he was most in touch with his audience -- whom he elevated with his music.
A woman should do exactly as she pleases no matter what a man may think.
As the Dalai Lama once said, "It is a time when there is much in the window, but nothing in the room."
"No one understands me," she said. Her grandmother was silent for a minute. It seemed she was searching for an answer in the star speckled sky. "But no one understands anyone in this world, darling. We are all unique. It is what gives us a sense of wonder."