Lust for Life

"But then, no artist is normal; if he were, he wouldn't be an artist. Normal men don't create works of art. They eat, sleep, hold down routine jobs, and die. You are hypersensitive to life and nature; that's why you are able to interpret for the rest of us. But if you are not careful, that very hypersensitiveness will lead you to your destruction. The strain of it breaks every artist in time."

irving stone

The Art of being a Pedestrian in New York

A pedestrian in New York City is more than just another poor soul walking down the street in just another super-sized American urban sprawl. The proof is in the proving that any heart-hardened New Yorker can tell an out-of-towner just from the way that he walks, much less the way that he talks. Pedestrians of New York do more than just walk, they jog, swerve, glide, duck, run, push and power through the avenues of their city with a speed and grace that is unmatched by those poor sauntering folks from other parts of the world. New Yorkers need to weave through foot traffic, dance across real traffic, dodge the occasional zealous bike messenger or errant cabbie, dive through closing subway doors and do it all without spilling a drop of coffee or tripping over the dog walker and his cadre of four-legged charges.
And they are adept at it.

New York pedestrians cannot be labeled walkers; they are rush hour sprinters, rainy curb vault jumpers, lunch rush acrobats and Times Square footwork artists. They are all of those things and they recognize those that are not, with the same keen sense of accuracy that a lion uses to find the weakest wildebeest in a traveling herd.

We do not take pity on the slow of step, those without split-second reactions and those without that trademarked New Yorker's sense of purpose and direction, that unmistakably arrogant and punctuated stride. Tourists are left dazed and buffeted about like leaves in a storm, stray notes in an orchestra too massive and foreign to be kept up with. In other cities, we would be in a rush, we would be rude and huffy and inconsiderate, but here at home we are just everyday pedestrians, in fear only of the moment when we are passed by one who is faster and more fleet of foot than we, and in that moment we will hang our heads in shame. -By Adam Redfield

With Arms Outstretched

i visit these
mountains with frequency
and i stand here with my arms out
now somedays they'll last longer than others
but this day by the lake went too fast