My Morning in Manhattan

In many ways, I felt like my morning in Manhattan with A & K was one of the best mornings of my life, leading into one of the best afternoons I could imagine in recent history. I had just worked a week of intense office work, gone through a mini emotional upheaval, shot two weddings in two days, and was able to drop off my car with just enough time to change dresses, get in a taxi, scarf down some beer and sushi at SFO and get on my red-eye to JFK. I had never been more thankful for an optional upgrade to a window seat, and as I washed my blackened feet in the airport sink while hiking up my petticoat, finding a spare safety pin in the elastic to pop the blister that took up half of the sole of my foot, I thought (very honestly): ‘I wouldn’t trade this for the world. This is exactly, wholly, everything I’ve ever wanted. To work hard and have time to play.’ Six hours later, I was jumping on the bed at the Ace Hotel, begging A & K to get up so we could play. There was so much to do on our Sunday in New York.

While there was already potential for ‘best morning ever’ status, I was extra blown away when we arrived at our breakfast destination, led by K and her Parisian thinking. Every single bit of vibrant colorful perfection was there, in the flesh, screaming at me to be photographed, enveloping me and leaving me in a state of lust for life. I felt like the luckiest girl in the world, again.

No jet lag (or thoughts of a shower) in sight, blister allowing me to (just) walk in my heels, we wandered around waiting for vintage stores to open, stopped for early cocktails, saw the best musical on earth (How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying) and by exciting coincidence, managed to see my husband’s band play a late show in Brooklyn. And then as if things couldn’t get more exciting…

We got in a taxi at 11:30pm and went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art where we *just* made it through the doors to catch the end of a two hour line on the last night of the Alexander McQueen exhibition. Unprepared, we savored the last sips of water we had, made friends in the line that wrapped around the corridors, and tried not to fall asleep while A’s contacts dried in her eyes. Finally, we walked in, tears from the most intense day (and week) trickled down my cheek, the curation encompassed me fully, and I absorbed every moment my eyes would let me take. The pain and beauty of art and vision, of sight and sound and color and design, the work of what I can only assume is real genius…

And so my first night in NY came to a close, we left the museum at 2:30am and made our way home, sleep calling, happiness still pulsing. Tomorrow, Brooklyn.

(*soundtrack album: Camera Obscura, Let’s Get Out of This Country)

(**Thanks to A & K for stealing my camera when compelled to catch some photos of me too. And of course for being so wonderful.)


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(me, by K)