I travel with wipes and binoculars and consider the price of the trip to be the price of the view.
On the way to NYC last Friday, the flight landed at JFK right at sunset. As the red ball of fire slipped over the western horizon, I thought of all the people out that way I miss... both my sons, Julia and her family, my two sisters, Michael Conti and his family, Summer and her ghosts, Jim Watson and his brood, even my dad and stepmom are in California visiting.
New York city sparkled with lights and seemed full of marathon runners...or at least jogging types in fancy sneakers with numbers on their jackets. Everyone looked interesting. There is diversity and story in each body. The heavy Indian accents stumped me at first. I've become so used to the Latin Americans in Miami.
Here is another type of painting plunge... out the window of my Boeing 737 flight from NYC. Today on the return flight we had one of those captains that likes to be a tour guide. He pointed out Norfolk among other sites, and that is when I started drawing. It is hard to depict one place though. I feel as though when up in a plane looking out, we are in limbo floating above the earth. Try to pin down a detail and it becomes obvious we are definitely flying!
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