Tattoo Art and Subways

I have a fascination with tattoos, and an inability to stop looking at them when I am on the trains.

I can spot a good tattoo (and a bad one) from across the car, and immediately, my eyes are drawn. I analyze, I wonder about the person on which it's drawn, I compare it to their clothes, and their hair, and decide if it "suits" them. I sometimes even wonder what tattoos people are hiding. I can't help but to think that all those yuppies in sports-coats have to have a tattoo or two, or many, hidden under their pressed collars. Bad tribal from a late-teenage beach trip? The name of a girlfriend who has since dumped them? Perhaps even something beautiful that they are not at all ashamed of, like a flower that reminds them of their grandmother, or a cross that reminds them of their savior. Maybe they just have it in a discreetly hidden place.

Either way, I can't stop looking at those you can see. If it's visible, I'm gonna look at it. If you have a tattoo on an open area, be prepared, because chances are, I'm staring your way when you walk through the doors of an F-train (or an A-train, or a 6-train, whatever I happen to be riding).

All of this tattoo-gazing has caused me to start recognizing people. I saw a blue star-design on this girl's foot that I KNOW I've seen before, and I looked up, to see a forearm tattoo that I immediately realized belonged to my upstairs neighbor. The more staring I do, the more I start to notice things I've seen before.

Once, I was riding the E-train with a friend up the west side, and I couldn't stop staring at this tattoo that was barely poking out from someone's shirt. I wanted to find out what the rest of it was. What else was hidden behind that black t-shirt sleeve? Only then, did I realize that it was in-fact, my friend's new tattoo that he hadn't bothered to show me yet.

I really think I might have an addiction.

One of my favorite mindless pastimes is to google "bad tattoos" and see what happens. I shall show you a few examples:

All that to say, if ever you are in New York, and you've forgotten to bring a book on a long subway-trek, look around you, you're bound to find some entertaining body-art to keep your mind going.

subway love

I miss the subways.

I don't miss subway changes, or express trains running local, but I miss the opportunity to have fifteen to twenty minutes each day (and many times more), where I could think about what it is excatly God is trying to teach me.

My favorite lesson ever learned on the subway is this:

In New York City you come across all diferent kinds of people. Fat people, short people, Asian people, Europeans, tourists, impoverished people, kids, etc... I used to get on the subway and look at all of these people and think nothing of them. Occasionaly even, someone would get on and my first thought would be "Wow, I feel sorry for them"(said in my head with a tone of attitude). Then one day, God reminded me that he made each of these people. No matter what they looked like, or where they came from, he thought them out, every last detail about the way the looked, or where they'd be born. From that point on, I saw the people on the subways differently.

Upon returning to Louisiana, I have not had this mentality, but God reminded me of it, and my goal is to think this way of the people I come into contact with here.

As time winds down

I'm leaving the city a week from tommorrow.

Part of me is excited. I get to see my friends and family. I get some jambalaya. I get to hang out in New Orleans.

The other part realizes that leaving the city is not just for a week or two, but it is for good. I will be back in December, but just for a week, and after that, who knows when is the next time I can come visit this place.

I'm not so much sad about leaving the city as I am about leaving the poeple, many of which I won't see again after this Saturday when they leave for youth camp. I've shared some of my greatest lifetime experiences with these people, and the thought of not seeing them again for an indefinite period of time is pretty rough.

I guess I'll just have to get a driveable car so I can make road trips to visit them in their various home states.

It's strange to think about leaving here so soon. The goodbyes have started to roll in already, as some people have told me that they are not going to be here on Sunday and I've had to say goodbye ahead of time. I think leaving church this Sunday is going to be the toughest part. Graffiti has become such a part of my life that it's going to be very difficult to say goodbye and become just another summer missionary who came and went.

I am looking forward to driving again. The subways are okay, but it's so much nicer to be behind the wheel.

Life on the Red Line

I cannot possibly explain exactly how I feel about this city.

Within this one place, there are so many different places, each with their own touch of charm. By simply hopping on the 2 train, I can jump from one world to another one stop at a time.

I get on in a quiet world of You've Got Mail Kathleen Kelly butteflies with Grey's Papaya hotdogs, Riverside Park, Central Park, Zabars, the Beacon Theatre, and all of the other wonderful things that go along with being a West Sider.

In a matter of three minutes, I can be in the center of all that is flashy and bright. Broadway shows, marquees galore, supersized Toys R Us, Bryant Park, overpriced souvenier shops, and all MTV.

One stop down is the Miracle on 34th Street, where to me, it will always feel like Christmas, or Valentines day, or any other holiday where a great movie has caputre the essence of all that is, what I like to call, the Macy's district. I can look up and see the tallest and by far most famous building in the city (which doesn't look all that tall when you're standing underneath it), and I feel as though I've been flashback to An Affair to Remember or some equally as wonderful classic New York movie.

Next comes Union Square, protests included. Here's where I can find people roaming about with dogs on leashes, trees, Barnes and Noble, and chain retail shops one on top of the other.

Flash forward to the Financial District. The center of New York history pre-1930s, and the economy of pretty much the entire world. With great views of all that is American and patriotic, including a gaping hole in the street reminding us tragedy and the fight for triumph over it, the Financial District is pretty much my favorite place to spend a quiet morning. Here you have Trinity church, the Stock Exchange, Battery Park, I could go on... With the hustle and bustle of people all around, there's nothing like sitting on the steps in front of ole G-Dub with a bagel and a bottle of water watching the people run around and manage the crazy numbers that somehow affect my day-to-day existance in this country.

Pop on over the Brooklyn, my favorite of the Buroughs. Get off at Clark and try to imagine what it must have been like in 1875 when across the river the tallest skyscraper was the spire of Trinity, and up above was rising the most amazing structure you'd ever seen and trying to figure out if after all the work, money, and political turmoil it would still be standing five years from now (not to mention in 2007).

I could stay on and make my way through Brooklyn, but typically this is where my life on the Red Line ends. I might switch to yellow, or walk back across the bridge, but isn't it amazing all of the things I have seen by simply walking outside my front door, going about half a block, and hopping on a single train?

Remembering That I Love this Place

For a short while, I had forgotten just how much I love New York. I'd been bored and lonely and missing home. It's like New Orleans. I go through phases where I'm bored with the place in which I live, and it takes some fun times to remind me why it is I adore the place so much.

Thursday nigth we went out to Washington Square Park and the NYU student center to relax and enjoy the city. In the park, for a moment I thought I was back home. This jazz band was playing, a crowd was gathering, and it felt like I was in the Plaza across from Jackson Square (and as it turns out, one of my friends who lives in NYC full time said that last time she was in New Orleans, she saw the percussionist guy from this band playing on the street down there). We then went up to an 8th floor lounge to get a killer view of the city and talked until they were telling us we had to leave. I realized how much I adore these people, and how much I adore the New York skyline from any angle.















Yesterday, I woke up really early to go to see Brad Paisley play in the Good Morning America Concert Series in Bryant Park. Seeing as how New York is not exactly loaded with contry music fans, there weren't that many people there. After the show, he let the fans just walk up to the stage and signed autographs. So I have now met one of my favorite country stars!!!! What a great way to kick off the weekend.


I rushed back home because for the rest of the day, we helped Ema move to Queens, which ended up being an adventure. The move went very smoothly, dispite having to get rid of her favorite chair because it wouldnt fit up the stairs. Theresa, who has become our mother-figure in the city, had lunch prepared for us on the other side of Queens. All but me and two other graffiti missionaries, live in Theresa's house. All of the people I was with lived there. We mapped out a route since there are practically no cross-town subways in Queens, and after figuring out we had to walk from one station to another then transfer twice, we got on our way. Little did we know we'd end up waiting at one station for thirty minutes before realizing the train we needed doesn't run middays, and that the train we finally decided to get on was not stopping at the stop we needed it to. About two and a half hours later, we arrived safely at Theresa's house and were welcomed by a table that was quite nicely set up with sandwiches, cookies, chips, fruit, etc... It was like a little party. I felt very at home.

These are the kinds of things I've needed in my life since I've been here, and the past weekend has been full of them.

Today I woke up to find out that the floor where my shower is located was locked, so my day started a little later than planned because I had to wait for the door to be opend for me. I left the house at about one oclock en route to Brooklyn. Brooklyn is my favorite NY Borough, and I hadn't been there yet since I've been here. I needed to go to Target, so I made Brooklyn my destination for today. I went down to the financial district, grabbed lunch at a deli, and made my way to my bridge. It was definitely the most crowded I've ever seen it, but I've never walked it on a Saturday afternoon before. I then went to Brooklyn Heights, which is said by some to be the most beautiful neighborhood in New York City, and I must agree. It's so peaceful. It feels almost like a little Southern city, plus it provides a great view of Manhattan. After going to Target, attempting to make my way out to hang out with the others in Queens, and realizing it was probably best that I come home, I hopped on the 3 and made my way back to the Upper West Side.

I definitely needed these past few days, and man am I glad I have them.