Bad night
Monday, September 18, 2006
New York City, NY
The sun blazed a trail of sweat up my back as I forced my way through the modern madding crowds of Manhattan this afternoon in search of opportunities. I dropped some posters advertising comic book lessons off at two of New York’s bigger comic book emporiums and then endured a quarter hour waiting in the 42nd Street subway station for a train. It was stifling deep underground and when I emerged in Chinatown I could do nothing but slowly saunter back to the studio.
Last night was one of the toughest nights I’ve endured since Linda left us all. I was listening to REM’s “Man on the Moon” when all of a sudden I welled with tears and began to cry like an orphaned child left adrift. I cried for a half hour before I felt the well of sorrow go dry. I dried my tears and thought of my Les. And the rest was easy. I have to make it for the both of us and I dare not disappoint myself or my darling Les. After I composed myself, I got suited up and went for a five mile walk from Chinatown to Times Square. The night air and endless crowds of streaming humanity filled me with a sense of certainty as I pushed my way north. I was in a Starbucks near Times Square getting a cup of tea and the fellow next to me at the milk and sugar table commented on how his girl friend who was just behind us had just taken off. Next thing, there was a knock on the window in front of us and his smiling lady friend beamed back at him. He laughed and I said, “She must love ya man!”; to which he rewarded me with a full luscious laugh.
As I left the café, I felt like my soul had been refilled with an excitement and love for life that I’d spilled on the floor of the studio with my sadness.
I turned and started to sing as I made my way east to the subway station on Sixth Avenue. My mind is clear and my purpose is certain.
Love to all,
Wallace
New York City, NY
The sun blazed a trail of sweat up my back as I forced my way through the modern madding crowds of Manhattan this afternoon in search of opportunities. I dropped some posters advertising comic book lessons off at two of New York’s bigger comic book emporiums and then endured a quarter hour waiting in the 42nd Street subway station for a train. It was stifling deep underground and when I emerged in Chinatown I could do nothing but slowly saunter back to the studio.
Last night was one of the toughest nights I’ve endured since Linda left us all. I was listening to REM’s “Man on the Moon” when all of a sudden I welled with tears and began to cry like an orphaned child left adrift. I cried for a half hour before I felt the well of sorrow go dry. I dried my tears and thought of my Les. And the rest was easy. I have to make it for the both of us and I dare not disappoint myself or my darling Les. After I composed myself, I got suited up and went for a five mile walk from Chinatown to Times Square. The night air and endless crowds of streaming humanity filled me with a sense of certainty as I pushed my way north. I was in a Starbucks near Times Square getting a cup of tea and the fellow next to me at the milk and sugar table commented on how his girl friend who was just behind us had just taken off. Next thing, there was a knock on the window in front of us and his smiling lady friend beamed back at him. He laughed and I said, “She must love ya man!”; to which he rewarded me with a full luscious laugh.
As I left the café, I felt like my soul had been refilled with an excitement and love for life that I’d spilled on the floor of the studio with my sadness.
I turned and started to sing as I made my way east to the subway station on Sixth Avenue. My mind is clear and my purpose is certain.
Love to all,
Wallace
posted by Wallace Ryan at 1:09 AM
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