New York Minute: Part Five
Last night, I went with spiceboy's fabulous cousin to see the Goya exhibit at the Frick Collection. There we also met her friend Jane, who is a professor at NYU.
We arrived late and purchased our tickets for Goya, and as the main part of the museum shut down all around us, Jane rushed us from room to room, pointing out her favorite paitings. "Oh, and the Vermeers!" she cried. "You must see the Vermeers! They're just lovely!"
I liked Jane instantly, with her shock of white hair, her bright lipstick, her easy, vibrant manner.
To pass the time before the 7:00 show, we three took a walk in Central Park. I walked without my jacket on.The sun was just going down, the sky above the West Side streaked pink and gray. The trees in Manhattan are just now starting to bloom, and the air smelled of magnolias, sweet and crisp.
In the flower beds, the daffodils bobbed, cute yellow harbingers of spring.
By the time we walked back down Fifth Avenue toward the Frick, it was almost fully dark. Jane stopped along the low park wall facing west and breathed deeply.
"Oh, just look at it!" she said, and I could tell by her voice that she is in love with her city.
I looked. The park grounds were dark, dotted here and there with the small white lamplights that line the sidewalks. It looked like a black velvet blanket studded with diamonds had been thrown over Central Park.
Beyond the park, the buildings of the West Side reached into the sky, the spires gothic and creepy in the darkness.
Seeing everything like that, it dawned on me that I haven't looked at the city--really looked at it--since last fall. I've been hiding behind my hat and scarf, just waiting for winter to end.
And now it has.
Here's to spring, and to all of the magical things that are about to happen.
We arrived late and purchased our tickets for Goya, and as the main part of the museum shut down all around us, Jane rushed us from room to room, pointing out her favorite paitings. "Oh, and the Vermeers!" she cried. "You must see the Vermeers! They're just lovely!"
I liked Jane instantly, with her shock of white hair, her bright lipstick, her easy, vibrant manner.
To pass the time before the 7:00 show, we three took a walk in Central Park. I walked without my jacket on.The sun was just going down, the sky above the West Side streaked pink and gray. The trees in Manhattan are just now starting to bloom, and the air smelled of magnolias, sweet and crisp.
In the flower beds, the daffodils bobbed, cute yellow harbingers of spring.
By the time we walked back down Fifth Avenue toward the Frick, it was almost fully dark. Jane stopped along the low park wall facing west and breathed deeply.
"Oh, just look at it!" she said, and I could tell by her voice that she is in love with her city.
I looked. The park grounds were dark, dotted here and there with the small white lamplights that line the sidewalks. It looked like a black velvet blanket studded with diamonds had been thrown over Central Park.
Beyond the park, the buildings of the West Side reached into the sky, the spires gothic and creepy in the darkness.
Seeing everything like that, it dawned on me that I haven't looked at the city--really looked at it--since last fall. I've been hiding behind my hat and scarf, just waiting for winter to end.
And now it has.
Here's to spring, and to all of the magical things that are about to happen.
posted by east side girl at 9:07 AM
4 Comments:
I know exactly what you're saying...here's to spring!
Nice! Where I live I am told there used to be sunshine- back in the days before this insidious darkness and wetness pervaded the land... humph.
You lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky girl!!!
am very jealous! would love to see nyc in the spring time. will do it next year for my 30th!! i have seen it in the fall and that was very beautiful!
your description of the day makes me feel as if i was standing by you looking at the same scene!
thanks!
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