Friday, October 14, 2011


 {Image via}
This morning I was walking to work on rain-slicked streets - the air claustrophobic, heavy with humidity - when I happened to look down and see the dirty sheen of the city. Under my feet, iridescent in its twists and turns and swirls, was a layer of oil, slicked out over the cement, and visible in its reflection on the dampened sidewalks. As I am a magpie in human form I found the images beautiful, breathtaking almost in their hidden colors and glitter, visible only when the skies and city are all damp, gloomy and gray. But, in reality, that's a pretty disgusting thing to exist - when the actual facts are examined. Yet its funny - even with visible oil, grime, garbage, excrement, with air so thick with pollutants and smog that I may have literally developed a skin condition, and with so many people constantly fighting, pulsing, pushing and rushing - this city exists within its own pulse, with its own level of better-than-you importance, and its almost an otherworldly experience to be a part of it. Because some weeks its nearly impossible to take a breath and remember where you are. But once you do, you're pretty impressed you've come this far. Happy Friday!

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