Like a homing pigeon, I made my way to the Metropolitan Museum of Art after singing for my supper on the East Side this past Sunday afternoon, finding new flowering branches in the huge niches in the Great Hall. They looked like they'd just been placed there the night before, if the newness of their blossoms were any indication. Some still waiting to peek out, I thought that is how I feel too: on my way towards full-flowering.
Making my way to the bookstore, a Buddha stopped my in my tracks for a bit, and then I made my way to the design section, just a few step away. While standing there, I thought of the recent news regarding Rizzoli on 57th street and its closing, the building being torn down to make way for a high-rise for investors who live elsewhere, not believing for a second the PR about a promising new venue for the legendary brick and mortar store. All too vague if you ask me. You're just trying to let us down easy.
The Buddha, of course, whispered that "nothing in permanent, all things shall pass," and I might think about dispensing with my collection of World of Interiors. "Must I?" I replied. "I'm standing here snooping through books, and you're telling me this now?" Jesus!
"Well. I bet Rizzoli will have a copy of this one for 40 percent off." I thought, ignoring the big B. "I should run down there on Monday and see what's left."
"Do you know why my ears are so big?" Said the Buddha.
"Big earrings?" I said.
"I'm a good listener." He replied.
"And what am I suppose to do with that?" I shot back.
Big B smiled.
Light streamed down the wall in the Grand Hall as I make my exit, and as I looked up, I saw that there were circles everywhere: curves and arches, all leading back where they came from, the end being the beginning and the beginning the end.
"You just won't let up, will you?" I said under my breath.
And then the goddess appeared in an egg, she part of an exhibition of 250 eggs hidden around town. "Hidden? Really? But I can see you. What's so hidden about that?"
"Do you and the Buddha talk?"