I have never been able to articulate the stillness of a Sunday. Those quiet hours of the early morning before a city, town, or village takes a big yawn and stretches itself into your routine which may include bills, laundry, emails, phone calls, errands, groceries, etc.
These mornings are especially unique in New York because the City doesn’t sleep but she just takes naps. And the longest naps are on Sunday mornings. I love Sunday mornings in NYC. I try my best not to have anything planned, not even a yoga class, before 12:00 p.m. If my mind is quiet enough I borrow the stillness and share some thoughts with a few friends or family members via email or a phone conversation. Some mornings I simply wrap the stillness of a Sunday morning around a pen and put fragments on a paper.
This true account belongs in the collection Nectar of the Ordinary. I met the individual to whom this story belongs in June of 2008. It was about time I put it on paper.
Thanks,
~a.q.s.
Unexpected Sap: “Nigerian Cab Driver’s Message”
One who carries a message bears the weight to share it. One who receives a message bears the Herculean task to contain it. Continue reading
Lots going on in Harlem… and the other Winery moved to 116th, right outside the uptown B/C station, the owner said it is a a bigger location….the Italian restaurant finally opened….and the supermarket looks almost ready…hopefully next month…
I miss my neighborhood.
This is a second Sandy email posting (the first one was Sade update). Perhaps I should just start a “sandy” category…but then I would have to start a “this quote/article made me think of you” category and “you would like this song” category dedicated to other friends.
