I am currently reading a book called New York Diaries- a collection of diary entries from various people in New York City history- by Teresa Carpenter. The entries span from 1609 through 2009. There are exerpts from the journals of Theodore Roosevelt when he first was courting Eleanor. Andy Warhol describes his evenings sipping drinks with fellow artists and writers. There are entries from some of New Yorks' first settlers- young children, poets, musicians, holocaust survivors..and they all share New York as a landscape to their lives. Ive taken to reading my book on the train while I commute to work- though a short commute- i get sucked in immediately to the pages and it gets me out of my head during those 15 mintues on the crowded subway car. Ive been here in New York for almost a year now. January 2 will be my year mark. It really has meant the world to me to be here. While i easily get sucked into the stresses of work, I have to keep pinching myself that I actually made the move and I live here on the upper east side in my own studio apartment. The transition hasnt been easy; ive had to navigate my way through a new job and start building a life from scratch in a new city. Ive had horrible days and ive had days where I float from happiness. But as I approach a full cycle being in this city, I am struck with this feeling of that what I am doing is right, and where I am is good. New York is my new home and a lovely, amazing one to make a life.
On January 27 in 1947 Simone De Beauvoir wrote in his diary "
Below us, the street lamps are lit. Here is the noctournal celebration I glimpsed from up in the sky: movie houses, drugstores, wooden horses. Im transported through a wondrous amusement park, and this little elevated train is itself a fairground attraction. Will it ever stop? New York is so big."
New York is vast. It is big- in the greatest sense of the word. Here, we sculpt and dig and work to become the best we can be. It never stops..it keeps going..and I'm excited for that ride.
