Get On the Bus

Abandoned Bus Trolley
Red Hook, Brooklyn, NY

New Yorkers tend to be direct and to the point. Hesitation for a New Yorker means a loss opportunity. In seconds, a cab, a bus, or subway could be filled and you might have to wait for the next one. Time is precious for New Yorkers. You simply keep pace with everything around you if not you will get trampled. You move.

A friend of mine shared his New York wisdom with me.  "Hey, you can't get there if you are not on the bus." That made an awful lot of common sense to me. You can't get there if you don't make the effort.  You have to start somewhere.

Years ago, I watched the tail end of an iron man competition. The camera focus was on one man. The man was was several yards from the finish line but his body was completely depleted of energy.  He collapsed. Hardly a moment passed and he tried to get up again and run, but he could not. He tried again, this time he tried to walk to the finish line, but his legs were to wobbly. He knew he couldn't run to finish line and he new he couldn't walk. As the camera fixated more on the man, an incredible thing happened. The man with the little energy he had left, began to crawl to the finish line. He finished his race.

This happened nearly thirty years ago. I know its something that not only I have remember: If you can't run, you can walk, and if you can't walk, you can always crawl to the finish line.  "You can't get there, Al, if you aren't on the bus." There's nothing that precludes me from at least crawling, I want to finish.

Memories Forgotten

Remember When?
"Red Hook"
Brooklyn, NY

My friend Harry's been shuttling me around New York.  Taking me to places that jar my childhood memories.  I remember these briefly, as fractions of seconds, like a shutter speed on a camera.  My childhood happened all to quickly. It was hard and fraught with many economic down turns and interspersed with family illness.  Of course, the seasoning always was the family trips and feasts.  Regardless, my parents kept the family together and we miraculously survived.

The city is still glamorous but far different than the fear I harbored growing up in "The Bronx".  Twice our apartment was robbed in broad day light then Dad transplanted us to the safety of a small Connecticut town nestled in the foothills of the Berkshires.

It's been all good this life of mine.  Gone are the days of wishing things away and lusting for the future.  I cherish each awake moment frame by frame.  I am fortunate to be a photographer and I carry my camera with me like a painter has an ever ready canvas.  I live now and I am so ready to just enjoy what each moment brings.  It took me a while to understand what living is;  wise friends and shamans taught me along the way.  I like the fact that I can still write the ending to this play.  I choose where on the stage I want to be and listen patiently to the direction my spirit prompts.