September 1 2010 Wednesday.
September 2 2010
Time in Beirut is still layered on time here in New York.
3 a.m. Woke up very early, no dreams,
don’t like the apartment, decide to turn it around, feels better
5 a.m. go down to Union Square Park searching for hot coffee.
Meet some bums sleeping on benches.
All cadavers.
Looking at the trees trying to locate the first singing birds. Now few people walking on the side walk across the street.
Madison Square Park 7 a.m.
A tall thin man in his mid fifties with blue jeans white socks no shoes and a thin white long robe _ the ones they make you wear at hospitals after an operation_ he is holding a white plastic bag in his left hand
every now and then he lifts his robe and checks on his stomach as if inspecting on his wound
He walks away between the trees
11:30am: Circle Line Tour with Julia
Departs from Pier 83 West 42nd Street and 12th Avenue
The receipt for this trip is in your folder. Please bring it with you. Although it says to be there 45 minutes in advance, I have never found that to be true. 20 minutes early should suffice.
Let’s meet at the pier at 11:10 to get in line.
September 4
12 noon: Key to the City **optional**
at Tortilleria Nixtamal
104-05 47th Avenue
at 102nd Street and Nicolls Avenue
Queens, NY
3:00pm: Out door party until 9:00pm
“Warm Up” at M.O.M.A. P.S.1
22-25 Jackson Avenue
at 46th Avenue
Queens, NY
Being a stranger in a big city like New York, (every soul is helplessly trying to keep up with the signals and orders given to her by the transportation and communication machines) one is first intimidated by the rhythm and flow of things, fascinated, marginal and useless… I can see a sad loneliness on their faces and a kind of stress in their jaws.
Yesterday while walking back home I suddenly understood (and it came to me when an old man crossing the street smiled at me and nodded with his head approvingly, it was like drinking slowly hot water) what is it to be really humble, the only way to be in tune with the whole.
A true non grasping feeling of friendship starts flowing in your blood.
I was elevated by that idea: Raw human nature is sublime …
September 6 a day of resonance and no images
September 8
Go to sleep at 4 am, phone rings at 7:38 am
-hello Juan
-hello no this is not Juan
-oh come on Juan, why are you doing this, why you don’t want to talk?
-I am really sorry but I am not Juan
And then she gets angry and starts to speak for like a minute in Spanish and i don’t understand a word.
-I don’t understand Spanish can you speak in English please?
-you don’t understand Spanish ha?!! OK I speak in English for you. So what happened?!! What are you afraid of?!! Why don’t you want to talk to me anymore?
-I am really sorry lady but I am not Juan I am someone else.
-ok,
Very disappointed and hangs up
I go back to sleep, half an hour later the phone rings again
it is her again with a sad apologetic tone
-Hello Juan
-No
-OK sorry sir bye
That woman had all the sadness one can feel in the world,
her voice coming out from a B rated soap opera. That Juan guy really broke her heart.
I am supposed to be at noon at the Harbor Defense Museum at 230 Sheridan Loop.






New Amsterdam Market.
Battery Park City Block Party.
- Hey man you’re littering
- Littering? Who’s littering?
Then some mumbling from the front of the bus, I don’t understand much, then the shouting starts again
- Where do you think you came from? How do you think you came here in the first place?
- Hey man got some roaches coming out of your jacket!
Some more shouting in the front, the bus is too crouded to see what is really happening
Then a woman comes back to where i am, she was wearing a black wig and said:
_ Stupid… stupid.
and then she mumbles something else in russian while cleaning off her shoes
_ stupid
- Hey sir, got some roaches coming from your jacket!
A young man was shouting at a much older man
And then the bus stops and then every body comes off the bus in a hurry.
I stayed to see if what was being said was true and also not very sure what will happen next.
And actually just where the old guy was sitting some corn chips and on the floor also little cockroaches
running in all direction all over the floor. Contemporary art seems to be one century behind daily life.
Then I saw the bus driver, a big guy, jumping in the bus trying to smash and kill the tiny creatures and another man standing next to me and also starring like me at the scene, suddenly shouts:
- What are you doing? You can’t do anything anymore they are all over the bus just get off the bus!
The bus driver declares the bus out of duty and asks us to get on the other one that just came in.
As all passengers where doing so, he starts shouting to the other driver:
- Don’t let that old guy on your bus! Got some roachs on him just don’t let him in your bus!
And then that same woman with her wig and voice again:
- Stupid … stupid.
And everybody on the streets gets in a crazy trance of jumping and shaking themselves and trying to pull out things off their cloths.
He was here still standing next to the bus eyes wide open not knowing that he had just created all of that madness.
The other bus driver asking him to shake his jacket.
- ain’t got no roaches on me!
- don’t let him in
- stay out.
And the old poor man who smelled like hell stood there in the middle of the road and we all left