My dear friend and I were chatting on the phone last Monday, Dec. 31. I had only been home in Brooklyn for four hours from a month long trip around Europe and I was back online looking at flights to Florida. We decided that her party celebrating each new year around the world where each guest of the party dressed of the region and prepared a dish from somewhere along the time zone was far better sounding than my options. So at 6:30 pm we bought a ticket for a 9:30 pm flight New Year's Eve to attend that party and at least celebrate the west coast and Hawaii as they rang in their new year. Such sensible women we are. I had three minutes to pack my bag after calling a cab. I grabbed sandals, a shirt, a skirt, my bikini, sunglasses, underwear, my toothbrush, and I heard a beep from outside. I was so completely stunned at our spontaneous decision that I mistakenly went to LaGuardia instead of JFK and embarrassingly paid for two cabs and traveled the length of Queens luckily with hardly any traffic. The airport was raging surprisingly so for such a holiday. People in lines everywhere, shopping for books, for celebration beverages, for sandwiches and cookies. Security was a breeze and all of the sudden it was ten minutes to 9 pm and we started boarding. New Year's Eve at midnight was entirely serene 30,000 feet in the air. It was almost like being in New York though in my apartment, with many other houses and apartments all around and everyone celebrating individually...as we were on this plane. Some people clapped at midnight, others slept right through it. I couldn't get over the moon, full and sharp, high above the white quilt of clouds beneath us. I had the stars twinkling at me. It was like 10,000 firework flecks of light... No I couldn't make out that many stars, the moon was too bright, but I imagined it so. The softness of those clouds against the fierce light on the carbon fiber wing, coming through the tiny airplane window, I was consumed by it. Far more than the miniature television screen on the back of the seat in front of me. And then, we began our decent into West Palm Beach. Might be the best way to celebrate the beginning of a new year, flying above the clouds with the moon on your wing.
Like a poem. A dancer, a painter, an athlete, an actor, a singer, a writer, a model, a teacher. Free to play. Symphonic imagination. Monumental thought. Writing artfully. Reflection from great perspective. Convergence of insightful visions. To shift and seek. To reach and discover. To the city connecting those who are aware and listening. To inspire wholly. To redefine and consider. To enjoy. To participate. To emerge.
Sunday, January 13, 2013
to ring in the new year
My dear friend and I were chatting on the phone last Monday, Dec. 31. I had only been home in Brooklyn for four hours from a month long trip around Europe and I was back online looking at flights to Florida. We decided that her party celebrating each new year around the world where each guest of the party dressed of the region and prepared a dish from somewhere along the time zone was far better sounding than my options. So at 6:30 pm we bought a ticket for a 9:30 pm flight New Year's Eve to attend that party and at least celebrate the west coast and Hawaii as they rang in their new year. Such sensible women we are. I had three minutes to pack my bag after calling a cab. I grabbed sandals, a shirt, a skirt, my bikini, sunglasses, underwear, my toothbrush, and I heard a beep from outside. I was so completely stunned at our spontaneous decision that I mistakenly went to LaGuardia instead of JFK and embarrassingly paid for two cabs and traveled the length of Queens luckily with hardly any traffic. The airport was raging surprisingly so for such a holiday. People in lines everywhere, shopping for books, for celebration beverages, for sandwiches and cookies. Security was a breeze and all of the sudden it was ten minutes to 9 pm and we started boarding. New Year's Eve at midnight was entirely serene 30,000 feet in the air. It was almost like being in New York though in my apartment, with many other houses and apartments all around and everyone celebrating individually...as we were on this plane. Some people clapped at midnight, others slept right through it. I couldn't get over the moon, full and sharp, high above the white quilt of clouds beneath us. I had the stars twinkling at me. It was like 10,000 firework flecks of light... No I couldn't make out that many stars, the moon was too bright, but I imagined it so. The softness of those clouds against the fierce light on the carbon fiber wing, coming through the tiny airplane window, I was consumed by it. Far more than the miniature television screen on the back of the seat in front of me. And then, we began our decent into West Palm Beach. Might be the best way to celebrate the beginning of a new year, flying above the clouds with the moon on your wing.
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Oh wow!! lovely beach . It was nice reading this blog. Thanks for posting
ReplyDeleteI saw the pics of you in FL, you crazy spontaneous creature. Awesome story and so you. I'll keep reading if you keep posting. Happy New Year Love!
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