November 01, 2009
Just Another Day in the City
"Man lowers his head and lunges into civilization, forgetting the days
of his infancy when he sought truth in a snowflake or a stick. Man
forgets the wisdom of the child.”
What did I do this weekend? Oh, not much.. I just took a plane to San Francisco on Friday, arrived at 4:30pm. I went to the bank and walked to Eggettes. I met a beautiful young woman, gently working her day away. Her nice coworkers smiled as I ordered, and as I sat and ate. It had been the young woman's birthday the day before, and luckily I had a happy birthday bag with me, filled with special tickets to some special performances. Eating and eating and drinking we laughed, until a nice woman came to take us away. Her sincerity was wondrous, noted through our little conversations as the young woman slept. Soon we arrived to a neon-covered theatre, with little black lines and curves that formed the name "Regina Spektor". Crowded with college adults and regular adults, with a faint smell of alcohol and sweat lingering here and there, the theatre had space for us to take a stand near its steps to the front.
Beautiful sounds came from such a petite and rare artist. True music filled the theatre, surrounded our hearts and souls, and brought us closer to one another. Inspiring violin and cello playing accompany the mesmerizing playing of piano; their music transcend their bounderies and blend smoothly together, often with the vitalizing beat of drums. As 19 works of art are emotionally produced, I melt until the longest pause I've cheered for an encore. To total 23, four more songs are sang, highlights of the playlist. Could there be any better way to end than with the epics Samson, Us, Fidelity and Love You're a Whore?
Singing the way back home with the beautiful young woman and her sincere sister, the night grow closer to Saturday, until it was. As I waved the last goodbye, I called my brother to surprise him as I ask him to open the door. They had no idea I was coming. I slept after an emotional reunion and warm embraces from family. In the morning I woke up early to sit at the table and pretended to read a newspaper as my father walked through the door. "Oh, hi papá" I managed to say over a quivering voice and a beating heart. I was glad to have him hug me and say "you're so crazy". Tear.
- Jack Kerouac (1922 - 1969)
What did I do this weekend? Oh, not much.. I just took a plane to San Francisco on Friday, arrived at 4:30pm. I went to the bank and walked to Eggettes. I met a beautiful young woman, gently working her day away. Her nice coworkers smiled as I ordered, and as I sat and ate. It had been the young woman's birthday the day before, and luckily I had a happy birthday bag with me, filled with special tickets to some special performances. Eating and eating and drinking we laughed, until a nice woman came to take us away. Her sincerity was wondrous, noted through our little conversations as the young woman slept. Soon we arrived to a neon-covered theatre, with little black lines and curves that formed the name "Regina Spektor". Crowded with college adults and regular adults, with a faint smell of alcohol and sweat lingering here and there, the theatre had space for us to take a stand near its steps to the front.
Beautiful sounds came from such a petite and rare artist. True music filled the theatre, surrounded our hearts and souls, and brought us closer to one another. Inspiring violin and cello playing accompany the mesmerizing playing of piano; their music transcend their bounderies and blend smoothly together, often with the vitalizing beat of drums. As 19 works of art are emotionally produced, I melt until the longest pause I've cheered for an encore. To total 23, four more songs are sang, highlights of the playlist. Could there be any better way to end than with the epics Samson, Us, Fidelity and Love You're a Whore?
Singing the way back home with the beautiful young woman and her sincere sister, the night grow closer to Saturday, until it was. As I waved the last goodbye, I called my brother to surprise him as I ask him to open the door. They had no idea I was coming. I slept after an emotional reunion and warm embraces from family. In the morning I woke up early to sit at the table and pretended to read a newspaper as my father walked through the door. "Oh, hi papá" I managed to say over a quivering voice and a beating heart. I was glad to have him hug me and say "you're so crazy". Tear.
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