I’ve just walked up the hill from Prospect station and that wind is a vicious bitch from the part of hell that’s just a cold emptiness. It’s carrying a cheerless snow that gathers in shallow pockets which suddenly wisp away, or at you— spineless little hell ghosts slithering the sidewalk on ice-dry bellies. I think we are all weary of the micro ice age that is this winter.
I was in the ‘hatters* for the eye doctor and currently have contact lenses in my eyes for the first time. They are surprisingly comfortable, easy to forget about physically. But these have a variable prescription (far away and close-to) so that as I was reading on the train I had to frequently adjust my eye muscles or the angle of the book to get the right focus. I imagine it’s a trick that one gets good at in short order and after a few weeks or so it’s like it was always part of you. I certainly hope so, for the sake of my art, my work, reading, and the warm months filled with cycling and beaching and all the many pursuits of summer wherein glasses would be a trial, or simply in the way because sunglasses are the things you want on your eyes, if anything.
Anyway, it’s a miraculous thing. Not quite as miraculous as Lasik™, but maybe that’ll happen at some point. The cool thing is I’ve been able to focus on all the things since I left— without glasses. Not new, but new to me and it’s SUPER.
*Manhattan
e daggar art: THE MUSEUM 