Ahhh, New York!

What a summer this has been. After the crush of summer school, I took a much needed breather and traveled to New York with friends and colleagues.

I was warned by some fellow Southern natives to be wary of the Big Apple - the hustle and bustle, the traffic, rudeness of the dwellers. "They" said "Watch out for the subway riders and the taxi drivers," and "The big buildings might make you claustrophobic" . . .

What utter nonsense.

I have no doubt "They" were trying to be helpful, but I had the best time of my life. Went to the glorious Metropolitan Museum of Art and my eyes beheld such beauty in the works of Monet, Renoir, Matisse . . . no printed copy could ever do them justice. Went to MOMA and saw Dali's "The Persistence of Memory" - and oh dear God the colors, I had no idea it was so small. Went to Central Park with dear friend James and listened to the NY Philharmonic on a blanket
under the stars . . . pure aural ecstasy.

Experienced my first transit train ride, NY cab ride, subway ride, NY pizza and bagels. Dear friend Ellen Zisholtz had a hugely successful first exhibition of her work in Soho, along with fellow artist and writer Pat Kaufman.

Gee. I survived it all, with much aplomb.

"They" usually mean well, but you cannot listen to their voices of fear. To be afraid of the unknown and unfamiliar is to stagnate and die. Even in these perilous times, and I think especially so, grab life, hold on for all it's worth. It is vitally important to sing your song, paint your masterpiece. Don't let "They" hold you back!

This kept playing in my head all the way back home. Thanks, Billy.