Virgin Mary took my package the Rockefeller Center FedEx. How do I know it was her? She told me. It was in exchange for me having a name which even I can not pronounce properly here in the states. (I usually say it is a combination of Wit and Old…)
Virgin Mary told me about the humiliating callouts via the PA system in her high school. She told me how the announcer would sometimes just leave out the “Mary” part of her name, calling for her, the apparently only Virgin in her high school. Being a virgin is one thing. Having it part of your name in high school is well… another. VM appeared to have survived the slings and arrows of the teenage years quite well (thank God). She had a voice much better (and clearer) than whoever was singing on the radio. It was good to leave the package with Virgin Mary, it somehow felt like a little pointer from somewhere… things would be just fine… the artwork would arrive on time… it would survive the inspection by the first set of eyes and the second and the hundreds that might follow… and hopefully more than 33% will like it…
I somehow feel much better now. Even if I had to realize again yesterday, that my New York just rushed forward, while I was busy working away at the tiny and the large work. When asked about what one could possibly do here in the city, the first thought that came to my mind was… work… (pathetic, I know.)
The window is open now and I am ready to go out where the yellow ones honk. Oh, and I am going to use the door, of course. Virgin Mary or not, let’s not play lotto yet.
I hope Stephan really received his package today after I had it ready for almost a year…
(and let’s hope John did receive his as well.)