
14
Sunday was hung over and dead. Manhattan with midtown closed. Vacant almost; it hapens. Surreal. I painted, that’s what Sunday’s were for me. I remember leaning on the window ledge while the radio played too load. Rock and roll. Jersey garage bands. New York Rock and Roll. This beautiful girl, Spanish, was pushing a stroller full of lace up the street; her skirt was fringed with lace, and a noticeably short, older women, grasped her arm. I watched them slowly walk up , cross Amsterdam, and then on towards Broadway. The street was otherwise vacant; even open parking places.
I I went back to painting.
Sunday was hung over and dead. Manhattan with midtown closed. Vacant almost; it hapens. Surreal. I painted, that’s what Sunday’s were for me. I remember leaning on the window ledge while the radio played too load. Rock and roll. Jersey garage bands. New York Rock and Roll. This beautiful girl, Spanish, was pushing a stroller full of lace up the street; her skirt was fringed with lace, and a noticeably short, older women, grasped her arm. I watched them slowly walk up , cross Amsterdam, and then on towards Broadway. The street was otherwise vacant; even open parking places.
I I went back to painting.
otherwise at:
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