(from instagram) September 20, 2020

Morning view from bed.

It’s nice spending time with this painting. It’s called Coney Island – and every time I look at it – and I suppose when I was painting it – I think of subways, reading books on the train – the orange and yellow molded plastic seats, the gigantic freaky Ferris Wheel on the boardwalk, carnies, wind, sand, soot, white grey sky, sunset, the Atlantic, Hudson and East rivers, walking to the pier, train maps, squeal of the tracks, smell of metal on metal, coffee shops, history, poets freaks artists musicians (friends), bodegas, fruit stands, fish market, sushi, movement, moving, stillness, stories, layers, human interconnectedness.

It’s been almost ten years (really???) since I have been to New York.

Sometimes I get fierce homesickness. Lately.

Lately quite a lot.

I still set my bedrooms up as if I am living in a one room apartment. I don’t know if I will ever feel like home is permanent – so many years of renting apartments has me used to impermanence.

I don’t really know how to take up space, except for when I am on stage.

Lofi Sofias rehearsal tonight!

Rock n roll feels like home.

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