Saturday, March 21, 2020

March 2020. New York City. #sharingawalk.

Once upon a time, I used to photograph food. Fresh produce, straight from the market, still wet with morning dew, still warm with sunshine from the mother fields it came from. I used to photograph flowers, silver and porcelain, and tabletops styled with much love and attention.

But things have changed.

Two months ago, which now seems like a million light years away, I was so taken by the demands of everyday living -- work, travel, family, chores -- so entangled in the knots of the crazy, hectic life we've created, so taken by its ever accelerating rhythm, that I thought how I might not write again. That has changed too. It's a new world and a new reality that we now share, and it's time to take up the pen and the camera again.

In this new life, every evening, I go for a walk. Sometimes, oftentimes, I go to the Hudson, because I crave the river. I look at the sky, painted in the pale watercolors of the early sunset, and inhale deeply, letting the air, brittle with the last days of winter, permeate my lungs, my mind, my everything -- cleansing, purifying, invigorating -- wishing that I could somehow share this moment, this feeling, these breaths with those who need them so badly. I roam the streets of Soho and West Village, the tiny alleys of Chinatown, the cobblestoned lanes of the Meatpacking District; all those places I once knew so well that I could trace the path with my eyes closed -- step by step, block by block, alley by alley --- as if on a palm of my hand; I wander, alone, amazed at how much they've changed, devoid of people, devoid of breath, unrecognizable. Stripped away of their old skin, the once familiar dwellings have acquired a new look, a new meaning and new values. I am now tracing those paths with a new pair of legs, seeing the world around with a new pair of eyes, recognizing that an ordinary walk has become a travel to some strange new place faraway.

I walk every day, for about an hour or so, documenting this new life. I never realized how precious an hour can be. Just like my moods, some photos are hopeful, some are desperate, some resilient and encouraging. I would like to share my walks with you. It's a new reality, where my walks are your walks, and your walks are mine too. My discoveries belong to you, and I hope to claim a tiny piece of what you see and do. My strength is yours whenever you need it; in return, I'll claim an ounce or two of yours, when I am in need.

So, drop me a note -- share a walk, a thought, a dish. Don't be a stranger. Because we should ride this storm together. We are not alone.

I am #sharingawalk.

Stay safe.