“If you were here beside me, instead of in New York.”
So here I am, listening to New York from Snow Patrol, being surrounded by a feeling of sadness. Summertime sadness, I could say. It’s been two years since my last visit to the U.S. and I kinda miss it.
There are times when some songs evoke me certain memories. Such as those sunny days of the late September (2011), walking on the very crowded streets of Manhattan, truly excited to be visiting Metropolitan Museum of Art for the first time.
My hotel is situated around Columbus Circle, so I decide to walk there, in my green dress, dreaming of Carrie Bradshaw and her friends, enjoying the greatness of being 20 years old.
“I can’t wait to see Andy Warhol’s gallery!” I say enthusiastic to myself.
Once I get there, I’m surprised by it’s grandeur. With the ticket, I get a large map, to guide me through my very exciting journey in the world of art. I must face it, it’s quite impressive. And it’s the biggest museum I’ve been visiting so far. I used to be impressed by Field Museum, in Chicago and the National Archives in Washington D.C, but this one by far my favorite.
I play the song one more time and now I’m on the Brooklyn Bridge, shouting “we are the 99%” with all those protesters, a bit angry that I couldn’t take a picture the way I imagined it.
The song keeps playing and I picture myself enjoying a vanilla coffee in the Time Square Starbucks, as a way of saying goodbye to this wonderful diverse city.
It’s my last day in NYC.
And I feel I didn’t have enough of its jazzy atmosphere that floats over Central Park, yellow taxis on the 5th, chilly air on the top of the Empire State Building. Even the cold rainy day at the Statue of Liberty makes me nostalgic now.
The song is over so I have to wake up from my reverie and go back to writing academic papers. Not before I listen to the song one more time.
There’s distance and there’s silence, your words have never left me.
Alta's World 