All the photos in these stories are taken with a wide-angle lens of 10-22 mm. You can't understand New York without a wide angle .
Two violins sounded, Copper, Saxos, guitars and low and a broken voice trembled that sometimes multiplied in two. The place was not especially large. We accommodate next to the bar, on the stairs, of Rockwood Music Hall2, And we ask for two glasses. From the window you see cars and people pass. They were light stripes, headlights and feet that never stop. We listen to the fabulous band concert Mother Falcon. We applaud and ask bise so that this will never end. He did. We went out and began to walk that after 16 days and 16 nights this vibrant madness that had been New York was over. The night seemed cheerful for the before and sad for him.
In Central Park the birds seemed to have the habit of avoiding trees. As if the city granted a truce to be able to perch on the ground and they could not miss the opportunity to do so. The concrete jungle was from there several sight. In the distance we contemplated a baseball game. Lying on the grass we ended with a bottle of Italian wine, a focaccia, Mortadela and ham. Lost music sounded. Suddenly there was a small silence and I understood that there would be no truce or forgiveness that was not in that place. The clock touched two shadows.
There was a small silence and I understood that there would be no truce or forgiveness that was not in that place
We accompany you to City Clerk. Our friends had decided to marry there. The building was thick and its rotating door of gold. In the hall the couples around the world awaited marry or left. I remember a group of Ukrainians who came with balloons simulating the flag of their country. They smiling and left the same ten minutes later. There were two balloons. There was also a couple that possibly on their face were Ethiopians. She was dressed in a traditional suit and simulated being the queen of Saba. Another couple also caught my attention. Both were very handsome. He had close to 50 And she appeared not to overcome the 30. They were alone, perfectly arranged. The dark suit and tie and she white, short. They got married alone and left alone without them to miss anyone. And then there were our friends, Happy and happy, signing papers to marry two days later. We couldn't stay for the delay of the ceremony but I saw the photos later. She is the most beautiful girlfriend that passed and he has in all snapshots a devastating smile and a bow tie that holds her neck. She is Italian, The Colombian and both live in Egypt. It was a perfect wedding for New York.
In the front there were four old. They were fixed with care. Some wore a small hat in their head, Some covered their fingers with light gloves and they all had a tender look, Low heel shoes and a discreet print dress. I guess they had been coming to their Sunday eleven mass for so many years that they would have forgotten in their vital calendars that could be done that day and at that time other things. They were sitting in front, near the choir. There were few people in the church of Harlem, some 20 People of whom half were foreigners who had gone to listen to a gospel mass. The choir appeared. Four other women, One of them was white. They started singing and I saw how the body of wire and cork of those old women began to draw doubts. It seemed to me that his heads and shoulders slide slowly to the rhythm of music as if nothing could prevent his appointment in that place and at that time to be eternal, Like his palms, Like its slow movements.
They would have forgotten in their vital calendars that it could be done that day and at that time other things
The subway deviates without realizing. Suddenly we advanced by the Bronx. The streets of the neighborhood looked through the window. It reminded me of the feeling of those first times in which I walked through Soweto with the emotion of seeing Alacranes appear. In the car was a young girl, latina, half sleeping, and two black boys, large, loaded with tattoos. In the distance there were two other friends of origin also Latin chatting. Its streets seemed narrow and low. And suddenly I closed my eyes for a moment and just listened to the sound of the train. I understood that Bronx was a sound for me, a smoke and a graffiti for which he had already wandered many times before going.
In the NY street lamps there are photos of men looking for women. They express it with a certain impudence. The photos of some of those men were especially comic. They all had already cut roles where their phones were. I also remember many people talking alone, People who began to shout in the middle of the street or who advanced with their bicycles shouting to the city. I saw a man carry a parrot in the head walking quietly throughout the 5 avenida, To another rose dressed a bike full of flowers while sanging and a young boy go with his basketball ball by raffling passersby that were rivals for him. It seemed to me that there was more madness in New York, Sometimes they seemed to me of loneliness, that in other places, as his dirt and enormous poverty abandoned on the sidewalks seemed more indecent. The cruelty of a city is intuited in which there is no time to withdraw the bodies.
Sometimes they seemed to me of loneliness
The sunset seemed to be further. From Empire State the world is always small. We had fun taking photos with the lighting of the lights of the first cars that leave reddish lines through the city. The sun went down, As if from up there, he sank into the feet and All New York It looked like a leafy cement forest. Then one understands that in New York it never sunset, that the sun only disguises itself to flee. That is our last NY image, In the taxi, Since Queens, Airport Road. The city's skyline and the sun was wearing a reddish teen. I never saw a city with such a constant life in which to get lost. Everyone comes to NY knowing that they must flee.
