My time in New York as almost reached its conclusion, and this seems like a natural time to end my rambling, esoteric, perhaps bawdy, eccentric, tad vain but personally highly enjoyable speculation and analysis of the parts of the United States I have now made my way in and seen a little of.
It truly has been the time of life life up to now; I have never ever been happier or felt more like myself or more sure of what I have to offer. Thank you to sensational friends and family for validating my “flight of fancy” and acting as an ear to my observations. It has been so gratifying to learn that my writing has made an impact on people. That is truly the reason why I write, and will continue to do so.
But for now, I have arrived at what feels like the end of this particular odyssey. I’m ready to start reading other people’s words again, and walking the streets without constantly writing in my head. In Brooklyn today, I picked up a book from a stack of uniformly fabulous free stuff laying out on the sidewalk: Anne McCaffrey’s “The Ship Who Sang.”
The incredibly intriguing tagline? Get ready for this: “She had the brain of a woman, the body of a spaceship… and the wiles of a siren born in the stars!” Cheers to that.
Now here are some photos of this beautiful, artful, willful and oh so sexy city called New York City, a place that I am convinced (for now, at least) is not meant for words: