New York City

NYC  May 7^th

                New York.  Lights, music, fashion, shoes, shoes, pavement, smog, people, chaos, subways, shopping, art, books, coffee, fashion.  What a sigh of relief to be in a place that hosts all of these things on a single block.  We arrive at our couch surfer’s house at around midnight.  After a whole fiasco with the airline ruining our bags, we were happy to get a good night’s sleep in a real bed.  A skinny EMO kid, Johnny, from Florida answers the door.  He takes us in and shows us the ropes of the house.  After giving us a plethora of information, he informs us that he is also a couch surfer and does not live there, but that he was staying here for four months.    

                There is a shower upstairs and a bathroom downstairs where we will be staying.  The downstairs is a living room filled with beds and pull out couches.  It turns out that this entire apartment is dedicated to couch surfing and there will be eleven people from all over the world sleeping here tonight.  This does not include the 5 roommates that live here in this three bedroom house.  The five roommates are all artists, the kind of person it takes to live in a house open to absolutely everyone.  Anyone can come and stay as long as they need to.  A girl comes home and greets us. She is one of the roommates.  She takes a $20 deposit from me for the key to the house and tells me to put my bags on the huge shelf marked luggage.  The air is filled with many different languages and people from all over the world.  We put our luggage down and claim the top bunk bed in the corner of the room and settle in for a long overdue sleep. 

May 8^th

I have only been away from the U.S. for a short while but the noise of the city and smell of pollution from something other than burning trash is somewhat comforting.  Today is a day or errands.  Laundry, shopping, and well Mexican food are at the top of my list.  We walk to the local Laundromat located next to the subway entrance.  It is pathetic I am sure, but this is the first time I have ever done laundry in a public Laundromat. 

                After laundry and the most amazing $3.00 breakfast, which I had no idea was even possible in New York, we head out to S.O.H.O. to return our luggage and do some shopping at the outdoor store.  We realized that after two weeks of camping in Jamaica, there are a few more things we need.  The subway ride is long and dirty.  It is the one and only thing I hate about New York.  How dirty it is.  I am constantly trying not to touch anything, but being in this vibrant and pulsating city makes it tolerable. 

                The air is hot.  And I mean hot.  Just being outside for a mere ten minutes is exhausting.  We exit the subway and walk carrying our bags for twenty nine blocks.  After what seemed like forever, we finally arrive at our destination to find out that it does not exist.  The man working behind the counter took one look at our thankfully empty backpacks, and knew why we were there.  He informs us that this location will not be open until November.  “You have got to be kidding me!!”  The next closest location is in long Island.  This is my third time in New York, and I have never even been close to Long Island, nor did I want to.  We took the train. 

May 9^th

We rise for an early morning and full day of New York City tourism.  One of the most amazing things about NYC, is that the art is available to everyone.  We start the day off at the M.E.T.  The entry fee for the M.E.T. is by a requested donation of $30.00.  We donate $2.00 for the three of us and head over to the Alexander McQueen exit.  Johnny, the skinny EMO kid, never seems to leave the house so we dragged him with us. 

                The tragedy of Alexander McQueens’s death pours into the hearts of the many people who gather to form the hour long line to get into the exhibit.  Three women that surround me are adorned in McQueen themselves.  The entrance is everything I wanted it to be and more.  A fiery lipstick red dress and a white floor length dress made entirely of sea shells greet us at the door.  It scales down to the floor carrying a light shimmer that reflects across the room.  I can imagine the Queen of Narnia wearing this piece. 

                A turn of my head leads me to find the geometric room.  A kaleidoscope of color and texture are the essence of the collection.  The asymmetrical shapes are more than pleasing to the eye.  It was his last and final collection.  This is followed by my favorite room.  The gothic room is filled with black leather, lace, feathers, and sequins, all upon each other in a simple embrace topped with layer and layer of hand done work.  A fan blows into a floor length cape that is bound at the ankles.  Its dramatic nature does not go overlooked. 

                Just when you think, ‘wow , what sexual clothing,’ you get to the actual room dedicated to sex and impractical accessories.  Head –dresses made of leather, feathers, and shells.  A skeleton like corset made of metal with a tail that came off its spinal shaped back catches my eye as the moaning of a woman’s voice plays in the background of the exhibit. 

                A white strapless dress, which was worn in a runway show where machines containing spray paint rolled out to adorn the dress, stands tall in the corner.  And then I see it, the piece that takes my breath away.  Now if you know me at all you know the louder the color and the more feathers and sequins the better, but this, this is perfect just the way it is.  It is a wood corset that shapes up into huge wings rising up over the shoulders of the mannequin as she rotates in a *360 motion.  This is all she wears.  It is absolutely fabulous. 

                To my left, I am attracted to something shimmery.  I run to the window.  I am not disappointed.  A metallic gold feather floor length coat stands above the most amazing shoes I have ever seen.  Studs, pearls, shells, sequins, and glitter make up the shoes that at this exact moment just thinking about them takes my breath away.  What I wouldn’t give to walk a mile in those.  I peer down to cringe at my torn up, over used flip flops.  “There will be a day, “ I tell myself, “a day when my feet get to again feel the pain and beauty of over elaborate and unnecessarily fabulous shoes. 

                My dirty flip flops then carry me through the Victorian room filled with velvet and brocade.  The detail is remarkable.  The next room is a video.  As I start to watch it, it appears to be a small flower petal blowing in the wind.  As it gets bigger and bigger it turns into a woman wearing a long flowing dress blowing in the wind coming from every direction as she turns, as though to represent an angel of purity.  Its beauty is so captivating; I watch it three times before moving on.  These are just a few of the things I loved in this exhibit.  The magic continues and continues for four more rooms.  I am so happy to be here among such beauty everywhere.  I feel privileged to have seen all of this.    

                The creation and innovation of Alexander McQueen leaves me breathless.  He is such an inspiration, art at its truest most raw form.  His heart and soul bleeds into his every creation.  It breaks my heart that the world has lost such a talent, a beautiful, vibrant, exciting and twisted soul.  His work will live long beyond his short lived life.  Alexander McQueen I love you. 

                To carry on the cliché of going to the M.E.T. in NYC, we follow it up with a picnic in Central Park.  And by picnic I mean hot dogs in Central Park.  It is the perfect day followed what will be the perfect night.  Alex and I go on a double date with two guys in downtown Harlem.  Alex falls in love.