I have to admit that I have a certain love-hate relationship with new york. there are some days that it exhausts me just to maneuver through the masses, each hurrying about on their own path, with barely enough time for eye contact- let alone a full minute of rest.

one of the things that I love most about living in the city is the subway. I truly do adore it and all of its steel symphonies. yes, even the screeching metal on metal sound when it comes to a complete stop. the heavy sigh it gives as it starts back on its course, the muffled indeterminable jibberish the conductors bark into the loudspeakers about service changes that never seem to make any sense. the clap of the doors shutting. the bing bong bell sound that alerts you the doors are- in fact- shutting on you.
I love the musicians that travel through the cars and entertain on the platforms. accordians, guitars, full string sections, sitars, harps, mandolins, it is as diverse as the people who travel the trains everyday. the music blaring from the ubiquitous white headphones of the guy sitting across from you. the subtle background bits of conversations mingled together randomly. the blasts from passing trains. the drums made of buckets. the hum. the buzz. the rumbling. the bass from the horns. it is green, it is organic, it is zen.

close your eyes and see for yourself.

namaste.