I'm having difficulty walking for some strange reason. I think it might have been the stage design. I crouched a lot and now my upper inner thigh is strained or something. I don't exactly know but it hurts and that is all I need to know. I hurts when I sit and when I stand up. The actual movements not the stationary positions. I can't walk too fast which bothers me because I'm used to walking quick just because. So I hate the idea of things slowing me down, so I went to the park yesterday. Entered at 59th and 5th as is my custom when I go from the office, and forgot about pain for a while. I had to take off my jacket which made me feel rock star. The weather was perfect yesterday. I walked and walked at a slower pace, but still taking everying thing in. This time during my walk I had to go down Bethesda Terrace and sit for a few minutes on the edge of the Lake facing an empty Bethesda Fountain. At that point I wished I knew how to sketch. There were sketchers sketching from all angles of the statue, protecting the fountain. It is a dope ass statue, isn't it. I love the beggining of the HBO mini-series Angel's In America where the camera or the picture would go all over and the final destination was the Fountain, and as the close up got closer, it stopped and the angel would move her face and look directly at the camera. Now wasn't that just Dope Ass?

So I got back up and walked to the Ramble. I walked a few yards, or more in the Ramble, and there it was, my Rock. I quickly climbed up and found my space. The place where my butt goes and my bookbag and all. I took off my shoes, socks, puffed up my jacket and stared at the sky through a scatter of branches. The sun was shinning from south west, jumping off the Lake and landing on me. The branches were no match for the sun, but they still didn't allow it to overwhelm me. I poped open "The old man and the Sea" by Hemingway. I didn't read much, I just let it fall on my chest and observe me for a bit, while I fell into the most splendid of naps.
How rock star is that?

After the rest of the night was cool too, as I went to the season Finale of Symphonics, and was amazed by Poetry and bands. Rebecca Hart kicks majoy ass. So did Jesse Adelman, and Mikel Paris. Not to mention the dope ass poetry by Christine Hatch, Roger and Marty. Last night was a good night.