Things happen. Then they don’t. Then somewhere in between things happening and things not happening, you find yourself
people watching whilst waiting for the 6 train, trying really hard not to yell at the uber-hot couple making out, that “IT’S ALL GONNA END, GET OUT WHILE YOU STILL CAN!” reflecting on all those things that did happen, with the burning desire to know where the $^*# it’s all going to take you.
As my trip back to the states so conveniently collided with several changes in my life, I have acquired sentimental value for my hometown of NYC. There is an inexplicable beauty that you take notice of when revisiting remnants of your past. It has changed, and you have changed, and your eyes suddenly see things and avoid things that were previously unseen and unavoided.
I have rediscovered parts of NYC that I hold dear to my heart. The hidden gems, boutiques and people drove me to a realization that when revisited, most good, bittersweet, and sometimes even “bad” things, can hold elements to help guide you through your journey to where you want to, and ought to be. Seeing old friends and family has made me to want to move ever forward with my goals and aspirations. They are the forceful gust of wind, the unspoken whisper, validating that my foundation will be there to help me up when I fall, and fall again, until I can finally stand on my own.
Or fall without bruising. I bruise like a peach, IGHT?!
Although I’m nostalgic for NYC, and my roots as one often-cynical-sometimes-snobby-shopaholic-who-grew-up-way-too-fast-for-anyone’s-good, girl, I’m excited to get back to Israel and resume working on my music. I am going to take what I’ve seen, done, and learned, toss it into
a huge bowl of fruit loops with 2% milk the mixing bowl that is my life, write more lyrics, and sing the shit out of them. And maybe grow a pair and perform them, as well. And on that note (musical innuendo, hardy har, shutup) here are some snippits of my trip back home.