I originally posted this blog as ‘Behind the Scenes’ because I thought the picture below was all about hidden messages. Someone suggested I call the pic “Focus” and instead, I’m calling the blog ‘Focus’ instead. Written on this day three years ago. Where has the time gone??
I like this picture a lot because I can’t tell where the focus is. The monkeys are the main attraction of the exhibit, yet I’m drawn to the vaporous white, gnarled brown and tendrils of green. It’s confusing and conflicted and I’m responsible for it. So, where was the focus? On it all, really.
Sometimes you need to focus on many different things to let in the light of one important thing. I know that doesn’t make sense, but it’s what I believe. This Saturday I went to the Bronx. We started with eating at an Italian deli (complete with goat heads and pigs feet and cow tongues), then visited the zoo, then ate at a Carvel (my first time) and ended with dinner in an outdoor garden patio at another Italian restaurant.
At Mike’s Deli I concentrated on getting a 3″ sandwich in my mouth while drooling over big vats of floating capers, humongous pickles, bright sun-dried tomatoes, briny green olives and glossy white balls of mozzarella cheese. An edible Italian flag in front of me. At first I shied away from the carnage at the meat counter, all those eyeballs and tongues, but it’s something you get used to after awhile. One Anthony’s delicacy is another tigrelily’s yuck, but you learn not to stare. The food stares back.
The Bronx Zoo deserves its own blog. The place is teeming with life of every kind. I am grateful to M for putting up with my camera-happy ways. I needed to stare at life through a lens less selfish than the mirror I’ve been looking in. Because it has been all about me lately. I was wallowing in woe-is-me to the point of weariness. While I shared a little with M I promised myself I wouldn’t burden her with my blatherings. I don’t explain it well. It was such a joy to switch from camera to camera, shot to shot, hoping to catch exactly what I saw in my mind. I could have stayed longer.
Arthur Ave in the Bronx is a culinary wet dream. My host pointed out a cheese shop, a bakery, another deli…I was kicking myself for not stocking up on vibrant green olive oil, the kind you drizzle over a fresh fresh fresh caprese salad. Instead I enjoyed a glass of wine, laughed in the company of my favorite men and enjoyed the New York night air.
I spent the day being bombarded with the sights and sounds of the city so I could forget about the rage in my heart. By being conflicted and confused I concentrated on one thing: caring less.