magical manhattan moments on a rainy day.

darlings

(peering from under the umbrella)

is it raining where you are?

it’s been POURING down all day here.

not torrentially. more a consistent drip-drip-drip-misty-hair-ruining-drip-drip.

quelle depressing.

so we’ve been trying to spot magical moments to provide relief from the rain.

like the magical lending library on cornelia street.

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which apparently is part of a Movement!

Screen shot 2012-12-10 at 3.59.00 PM

(we simply adore a movement).

we took a slim volume (aren’t they always?) of poetry from the cornelia street mini free library and will be replacing it with something trashy and engaging to get someone else through a dark grey wintry afternoon.

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we have a few books we can pass on – but then there are Treasures we cannot part with.

like our collection of Vita first editions.

in fact we got through this dark morning (we awoke at dawn for some reason) by eating tart ginger chews (very colonial India and probably not counting towards a necessarily Healthy repast) and reading Vita’s diaries of her trip to Persia (food for the soul, as always – the life of Adventure and risk and glorious writing-and-illustrations and thoughts and passions well spent, if not Wisely, at times, but what is wise in matters of la coeur?). viewer-2

oh! talking of la coeur – for movies are very close to ours – we appear to live in a film set – such a lot of people milling around with make-up brushes, disappearing into trailers or carrying long cables and directing traffic – always exciting.

what’s this one about?

(peers into screen and selects our friends at IMDB…….just a moment, darlings).

oh!

ever-so-slightly-disappointed (apparently it’s Television. not the silver screen of MGM and the like).

still.

at least there’s still a disco ball at bleecker street records where the hits of yesteryear go to lie around and discuss Vinyl and the last gig of the Jam and what Weller-is-doing-these-days (wearing decent threads) while drinking strong builders’ tea (yes, they’re always english or english-wanna-bes – in record establishments, hadn’t you noticed?

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we stood awhile by the window with our eyes closed and let the reflections from the disco ball as it rotated (very clever, apparently a Motor) flicker past our eyelashes like an old silent movie written by Anita.

but the most magical thing we saw today which lifted our spirits Immensely in the rain was the notice board (what the Americans call a Bulletin Board) at the corner of Charlton and 6th avenue (what tourists call Avenue of the Americas and locals try not to be rude and correct them).

look!

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it’s pretty special.

there’s no way of responding back-to-it (as we are used to now on the world of the interweb) or even an About Us or a contact us.

curious.

it sort of just appears.

the new post – sort of a fairly regular weekly basis.

there’s an old-fashioned lock (and there must be a Rota or a permanent Monitor person for the key because the post each week is always credited to a different local person).

we can find nothing about it on the interweb (it appears to be ignoring bulletin boards all together which is rude but perhaps understandable as this one is clearly competition with its post this week about the christmas tree of 1936 that appeared in That Actual Spot – amazing.)

and the final magic thing that happened today (although it is still not quite supper time so who knows what may transpire Next) is that Betty the post-mistress gave us a hug (we left a blessings-for-new-year – we don’t really Do Christmas and a small tip of folding money tied up with a dark pink ribbon, almost scarlet in the fluro-lobby-lights when we considered it more closely).

she was putting the Post into the large mailbox (yes, we live in an Apartment building where this happens late afternoon – how we wish we lived somewhere where a Butler called Sam – male or female – we’re pretty open-minded on that score – left our post/mail/letters on a silver tray in the hallway) and saw us (we had to pop back between tasks to get some personal effects) and she suddenly gave us a hug.

which was lovely.

when did you last hug someone?

highly recommended.

we got Quite Pink cheeks afterwards.

4 thoughts on “magical manhattan moments on a rainy day.

  1. BigLittleWolf says:

    This may come as an odd remark (But I’m only on the first cup of coffee after writing much too late into the narrow hours)… Your words are honey, but in your pictures, suddenly, I felt inside Henry Miller’s Paris. The beauty of what is gritty and granular and acknowledged and accepted as part of the “tout” when makes a city a real city…

    It is so wrenching to part with the objects we treasure but perhaps no more so than the places we treasure. It is easier for some of us to forget the objects – must it be age? can it not be nature? – but the cities and their sensations, like the books that regenerate them – that stays. Fragrance that lingers at the pulse points, and does not fade.

    1. teamgloria says:

      Dearest D. Quelle belle sentiments! We are rather quietly pleased by the way you notice what we are trying to do in a barthesian semiotics loving kinda way……thank you.

  2. Heather in Arles says:

    Yes, it is me, commenting again. :)
    I have developed such a fond attachment to notre postiere, Sylvie because despite the fact that we have moved twice in the seven years that we have lived in Arles, we have remained in her “zone” so she knows us very well and loves my dog, forwards our mail even from two moves ago. We have now said that we can not move out of Sylvie’s zone which limits us, certainly but is probably worth it for the kindness factor. This being France, I offer her L’Occitane for the Holidays.

    1. teamgloria says:

      We are completely thrilled at votre vistes this week! We came to see you too did it go through? One never quite knows……creme pour les mains (occitane for sylvie?). Or a bubble bath concoction (which as you know is shuddered at in America land of showers. But we need two baths a day for our one-third English blood (and hand cream for one third French – the half Irish is kept quiet with all the books here ;)

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