I have no idea what this thing is, Russian nesting dolls sliding down a candy cane? Or maybe it’s that Festivus pole that everyone’s talking about (just kidding, no one’s talking about that).
Maybe this has something to do with the kerfuffle here in the US about Black Santa or perhaps this is an act of defiance against Christmas in general. (They do each have one “arm” raised in protest.)
It’s probably none of those things though. This is NYC so there’s (weird) art everywhere. More likely this is some artist’s playful interpretation of the holidays. Maybe it was just meant to be fun and sweet and pretty. To me it looks like a sugarplum induced fever dream. But it’s not a Christmas tree and it’s Christmas time. So somebody somewhere will be angry about it.
Maybe those angry folks could use some extra candy canes or sugarplums in their stockings.
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."