Coming back from a trip feels like a blank slate. A reset, if you will. My last trip to New York felt magical and inspiring. Unique New York. There's some truth to that tongue twister.
How many places are there that you can spontaneously pop into a bar Thursday night and listen to a band with unimaginable talent? Or leave a Broadway play to see the lead actress smiling at you on the train? Or experience a spontaneous dance party at the subway station on your way to meet a friend?
A few weeks later and it feels like a distant dream.
Longgg walks through the city resulted in some musings in my phone notes. Here's a few thoughts I had from New York:
NYC is tough like it went through something and came out on the other side of it rebuilt.
LA feels rough like, “I’m going through something right now, and it ain’t pretty.” LA doesn't feel rebuilt. Yet.
NYC feels like someone touched every little crevice and left their mark. No space has been left untouched. No detail has been spared. From the ceiling of the sandwich shop to the roof of a public restroom.
Every crevice is occupied:
The sink that I used to put my toiletry bag in while I showered.
The tiny corner store with items up to the ceiling.
The pizza shop with a kitchen the size of my bed back in LA.
New Yorkers are living right now. You can spontaneously pop into a bar and experience the best live jazz performance you’ve ever seen.
Angelenos are dreaming. Living to fulfill an idea in their head.
The world needs both. New Yorkers are fact. Angelenos are faith. New York is the Ego. Los Angeles is the Self.
What would we do without the risk takers, the dreamers? Those who create to make life worth living? They pass the unknown onto those who are ingrained in reality. They shuttle between earth and the unknown to deliver faith to those who aren’t familiar.
Cheers to the dreamers! Those of us who don't know where we are going but are sure to find it and come back from it rebuilt.
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