This is in the subterranean mall under Empire State Plaza in Albany, NY - a strange place indeed, at least on sundays. Brightly lit, totally deserted, with electronic cash registers of closed cafés twittering to themselves. The walls are hung with absolutely enormous pieces of particularly vacant modern art. I have a soft spot for empty places (annoying my partner, who stumbles upon them most often with me) but this one was almost too much of nothing. Glad I made a video for proof. Almost equally flabbergasting are the aboveground premises. Three large basins of water, shallow and rectangular, herded in by one enormous skyscraper (“Corning Tower”) and four smaller, but still quite impressive brethren, called, I kid you not, “Agency” 1 through 4. Speakingly enough, the smallest building on the grounds, a concert hall called “The Egg”, displays the most interesting architecture. It’s also the only one whose purpose can immediately be recognized. Maybe this was meant as a giant satirical work of art. Maybe this arrangement is proof North Korea has taken over Albany, because the only thing missing here is a giant golden statue of some Kim Il Sung or other. I really don’t know.
Espressoing
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."