@ The Center For Fiction

The sound of steps on wooden floor and controlled applause. It was a beautiful night.

Tailgating is not always intentional

@ 42nd Street & 5th Avenue (2012)

Cars disappear into someone's gestures. The longer you look into a photograph in your wallet, you see shapes, borders, and silhouettes.

Above may not be sky, but an indication of intransigence, that perhaps you're moving away from the temptation of apogees, dreams, conquests.  

In the silence of a train station, empty seats refuse to yield into metaphors, especially as hints of something exiled. Even the way we used to hold each other's hands that last time I saw you, their fingerprints were already uncoiled in what you might not want to say,

but instead became a way of looking at clouds from your window seat.

Meet Me There

Empire State Building (March 2012)

The night expands into shadows on sidewalks, in steps hurrying to catch the next train, or as they walk into a park to sit on a bench and rest. Breezes caress cheeks, gestures, or trail punctuations in a conversation. Cars converge and diverge into routes, pre-meditations, or failed plans. She keeps looking at her watch, at what its numbers tell her, their power over her expectations. There's the sky to look at. But her eyes don't look beyond the branches of trees without leaves. Her mind settles on the sound of steps, at what they are up to. She can still feel him in these nameless faces, his touch, the movement of his palms on her, where they pursue her. He takes her further in her closed eyes, into where trees hide between city-streets, between tongues that know what each cannot feel.

Sidewalk, Subway, Sandwich

The sidewalk looked wide last night. I wasn't in a hurry to go home, even though it was already midnight. Even the cars passing by looked relaxed and calm. I thought of getting coffee, but decided to catch the subway home. At the subway platform, I kept looking at the tracks, at their color, at food wrappers and other garbage sitting between them. I don't remember now how many commuters were standing near me. The place was quiet. When the train arrived, I didn't want to sit, but ended up sitting. As always, I picked a couple of points above or near the bench across me to keep looking at, an advertisement, the glass window, or anything, to avoid looking at other passengers. One time in a crowded train, I kept looking at a famous face in an ad, a news anchor. Most of the time though, I read ad captions that sound like proverbs, or sayings. At my stop, I found a well-lighted deli, and ordered a sandwich. Most of the tables there were empty, and thought of eating my order facing the door. But I decided to eat it slowly in my room, in front of my computer, and watched a indie film on DVD from the library. It's one of those stories that try to connect multiple stories together.  This one won a major award on the other side of the pond. Later, I read a short story, and tried to read two more. I think I'll read them again.

Empire State Building

 Last night, I walked through a drizzle of snow flurries on 5th Ave, from 34th to 14th and back.  I had been checking out a merchandise on the web, and wanted to see it in-person before buying it. And since I liked what I saw, I went home with it.  The streets were busy and wet outside the store, and I felt like walking around for a while.  Pizza was in my mind, or food from a truck-stand.  But I ended up getting a subway sandwich at a place near 32nd. After leaving the fast-food restaurant, I stood on the sidewalk for a while, looked around, then up.  The lights on the upper part of the Empire State Building were on, and created an effect; it looked immersed in a halo, or that its height blocked my line of sight to a full moon on a semi-cloudy sky.  I took a couple of snapshots, before heading to the Grand Central Station.  On my way there, I borrowed some videos at the Mid-Manhattan Library. Costa-Gavra's Missing - a political drama set in the 1973 coup in Chile - wasn't that bad, when I saw it later. The main characters in the story - played by Jack Lemmon and Sissy Spacek - are residents of the empire state.

Frank's Pizza

After dropping some books at the Epiphany Library on 23rd Street last night, I ate a slice of pizza. I think that was Frank who took my order. He wasn't as friendly as the review below claims he is, and looked tired. Maybe he didn't want me to be there. I don't know. However, there was a woman who looked friendly. I think that was his wife. She gave me my slice of sausage pizza, fresh from the oven. For a Saturday night, the place was quiet. I assume this is the reason why Frank looked gloomy. But that is Frank in 2011, twenty years after the review below that declared Frank's Pizza was the Best of Manhattan in 1991. Yes, twenty years. It's only natural to look exhausted. But I hate to think his long face last night was indicative of how his business is doing.

There was a young couple there on the other side of the room, and me on the other side. I actually liked the pizza, and wouldn't hesitate to buy another one with a diet coke, next time I'm in the area.

Fran Lebowitz

I ended up looking for clips of Fran Lebowitz on YouTube today, while looking for publishing/literary events in New York City. And I'm glad I followed the links of other clips that featured her or I wouldn't know about a new documentary about this former taxi driver; the film is titled Public Speaking, directed by Martin Scorsese. I followed these links with some excitement and curiosity, because I know she hasn't written for a while; due to writer's block, according to her. But she doesn't seem to have lapses in being witty, and has found ways to express it through public appearances.

Clips of these appearances, however, are not abundant. And of those I've viewed, it's hard to not replay them a few times; these are glimpses of her being interviewed or making a speech in this or that function. Her wit grabs you; it's quite sharp, I think, you end up evaluating your view of certain things in life instantly. And I hope to catch her in person somewhere in New York City, whether she's walking on 5th Avenue, smoking the city around Bryant Park, or just hanging out anywhere in Manhattan. Seeing her would probably feel like an event for me, like I was seeing Picasso, even though Fran's body of work is much lesser than the Spaniard's. But what I'm curious though is her not behind a camera; she seems to know how to project herself through a medium; her facial expressions and hand-gestures complement what comes out of her mouth.

Now the New York Public Library has already cataloged the information on this new documentary by Scorsese, and there's now a line for its Holds List that'll soon grow longer.

~

Jessica Hagedorn, Toxicology

Toxicology - Jessica Hagedorn's latest novel - is vintage Jessica Hagedorn. Her prose pulls you in, and as you arrive in the world of that prose, Hagedorn leaves you alone to piece the narrative together. It can be daunting task for readers new to her style, especially in her first novel Dogeaters, which is a feast of personalities and multiple plots that tries to imagine the Philippines. And Hagedorn's novels after that novel have, more or less, tried to paint an image and idea of that place, through perspectives inspired by distance, in exilic life. Still, the Philippines is alive in Hagedorn's recent novel, but as a sort of ghost, apparition that hovers above and through the life of artists in New York City, a carnival of grit, sarcasm, desire, sex, pop-culture, and drugs. Once again, it's a feast, but this time a feast of toxic elements, or even a study of toxic personalities trying to coexist the best way they can.

Mike Tyson

[This was posted two years ago: 19 Jan 2009.] David Carr's recent interview with Mike Tyson at Utah's Sundance Festival was quite revealing about the boxer, even though it was very short. Sometimes, I like Carr, because of his voice. This hoarseness makes me think of the gritty aspects of New York City's urban world; and I'd like to think this is one reason why The New York Times chose him to be the web-video correspondent for the paper's The Carpetbagger episodes, or webisodes. I know that's a weak justification; but still, there's no harm speculating. Now I don't know if his voice always sounds like that. I haven't checked the rest of his webisodes. But the feeling of urban grittiness in his voice does make him sound endearingly cool. And too, the image of approximate roughness on his face somehow reminds me of Mickey Rourke, a one-time boxer aspirant. And so when Carr was interviewing Tyson, I had this playful image of boxer interviewing boxer. Mike's answers were, I thought, articulate and gave me ideas of how he thinks. Of course, the act of manipulating answers to interview questions to give a pleasant or certain effect to viewers could certainly be factored there. Mike has had extensive experience with the media for years; he had been in the spotlight since he was 20-years-old as world champion, then the rape charges, the drugs, and other dramas or tragedies along the way. He did mention the word 'tragedy' towards the end of the interview, as though highlighting something in written-text narrative. Somehow I can sense the link between how he answered Carr's questions and his rise to prominence in the boxing world: sharpness, focus, and his determined right to carry things through the end. This short interview made me want to see the documentary "Tyson", directed by James Toback. The director was actually there, sitting beside Mike, and mentioned there were other celebrities there at Utah, but that people paid more attention to Mike than these other Hollywood big-names: what a natural way to promote his film's subject, I thought. Then there's that tattoo around his left eye, a sort of Maori tattoo. He can look menacing with it, no doubt, although not during that interview.

(For interested parties: video section of paper's website.)

Into New York City

Video Source: Thought Catalog

I first saw this short video at Thought Catalog, a listopia of anything conceivably listable you may not immediately think of cataloging. I love the video-tour into NYC history. Historian Steve Duncan opening that manhole (?) at one in the morning looked risky. But when Steve went up Williamsburg Bridge at 3:30AM, while director/cinematographer Andrew Wonder was trying to steady his camera, I thought I'd slip down the bridge myself, at some point. Then, this dynamic duo heightens the drama in this clip and shows Steve on one of the large suspension cables, without a protective harness, only holding the cable-rails of that suspension cable, while walking on it. Amazing. And of course the standard caution: he warns us not to do at home what he is about to do, before walking on that cable; but in a way though, we are. We are walking into his New York City, the history of that space, or even the history of space as New York City.

Image Source: Wikipedia