To get back from the Zoo, I took the longer way back, through Manhattan, via West 4th Street. I had to pick up some things. Also had to pick up some cash out of the ATM. My bank there offers free coffee and donuts. Well, it is obviously not my bank. It is a bank. But there was coffee and there were donuts. So I had two coffees, while sitting by the window, near the table where one would sign the deposit slips, back in the day when people had to do that a lot. I read an article about liking things on FaceBook, on my phone, after clicking a link on FaceBook. And I liked it. It had a certain darkenss to it. A sadness. Just exactly what one should read while drining free coffee yet not eating a free donut at a bank. A customer representative was hanging out near me. She greeted everyone. Not just the elegant lady who had come by to talk about something with “her” banker. Everyone was greeted. It felt as if I was looking at the lady who had the coffee and donuts idea. A very nice person, it seemed.
I had also come to west 4th street, because a little store across the street from the bank sold Aguardiente. Not just that, but Antioqueño, one of the best of Aguardientes; from Medellin. The first time I had Aguardiente, I was not even sure it was something I was supposed to be drinking. Eventually Antioqueño became the Colombian spirit of choice for me. It feels much milder than many other spirits. And when taken from a little Japanese shot glass, it actually is a very pleasant little experience. Calm. When enjoyed in moderation, of course (as everything should be, including moderation). The Aguardiente hangover pretends to be a cold, I was told. But I drink so little of that spirit, that we do not get that far. It is not easy to find Antioqueño. One would usually need to travel to Jackson Heights to get it. But here it was, in the little store on West 4th Street. “We have our very specific Colombian customers here”, said the man behind the counter. Sounds good. Now they also have me.
Have been trying to capture more spirits on the train recently. Reflections. Objects. Blurs. Shooting out of the window on the subway, finding overlapping reflections of the outside and the inside. Some of the things not really even visible to the naked eye. Feels like I am can enjoy the less and less technically perfect photos more and more. I enjoy the ones that somehow fall together into some strange blur of things; some open strange layering of things and ideas. At least some of them are like that. And I am enjoying them. Spirits.
Everthing is starting to come together very slowly. The photos, the drawings, the notes here. It is all just opening up to one larger blurry something. And even if it does not matter to anybody else but me, perhaps that’s what can be most enjoyable about it. And it all makes even more sense if we are all just one gigantic living thing… Hmm…
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