My Love, New York (for the Art Salon part deux)

photos by Koury Angelo

Last week I was standing on the corner of 47th and Broadway in Time Square with a man I had just gone on a first date with. As I turned to say something to him, he put his hands on my face and kissed me. It was a movie like moment until a few minuets later when he said, "I hate Time Square, I just don't get New York."

I knew then, it would never work out with him.

Perhaps I am guilty of romanticising New York more then Woody Allen, or maybe it's because I am a romantic person, but everyday, I fall deeper in love with this city. A city that I have begun to grow roots in.

I have never grown roots- anywhere, before here.

I was born in the mountains of Boulder, Colorado, moved to desert of Albuquerque, New Mexico, grew up by the ocean in Sarasota, Florida, received my college degree in Tallahassee, Florida got my heart broken in Atlanta, Georgia, licked my wounds in Gainesville, Florida, and now I have found myself here in the bright lights of New York City.

Even in New York I have moved several times. Bushwick, Park Slope, West Village, Upper West Side, and now Chinatown.

When I went to meet a dear friend for brunch near Astor Place. I called him on his cell phone, I was lost. I told him, "I'm not exacty sure where the resturant is located." He said:

"Why not, you have lived in every square inch of New York."

When I wake up in the morning, and walk down to the B/D subway stop on Grand Street- I walk down the streets of Chinatown watching the men unload the produce off the trucks. The traffic is moving fast and its hectic. I walk down the subway stairs where hundreds of people are pouring on or off the subway cars. I feel the wind in the tunnels when the train is about to pull into the station, and it makes you feel powerful, to be strong in a city with so much chaos. It's almost mediation for someone like me that feels so much chaos on the inside, New York to me, is an equalizing balance.

These aren't the only reasons why I love New York.

The winters are hard here, and it makes you appreciate the Spring. Every year when I see the first buds on the tree I silently celebrate to myself- warm weather is coming back.

I have my best conversations with close friends or a lover while walking around New York's many little roads, and quiet streets, that are always waiting to be discovered by someone new. To discover them by yourself is wonderful, to discover them with someone you care about is magical.

If you are open, if you are brave, if you are willing to be on your own here, go at it alone, you will find just the opposite is true. You will find and connect with the very people your heart desires because they too took the once in a live time opportunity to live here, to struggle here, to find themselves here.

New York can be hard, because some have so much, and you can have so little, but, to be motivated, to be intelligent, to be talented here, with a little patience you can see your opportunities flower here- like you would never see in any other city. This is the gift this city gives you- it always makes you feel like no matter what your age is- you still have the opportunity to realize your dreams.

It is the city for dreamers, even more so for the doers.

Who You Are, Not Who You Were.

flyer for the art show, and Virgina and I late one night at the loft. photo by her man, Mr. St. Clair

This weekend Virgine hosted and artshow at her gallery "Chinatown in a Chinatown Gallery." I love when Virgine hosts an art show, not just because of all the fantastic people that come to her shows, but also for the fact that the party takes place next door.
All I have to do to get to it is walk up to the roof, crossover half way, and walk down the stairs to the art show below.

There is always a mixture of people from around the world, and of course there is always a heavy dose of the French language wafting through the gallery.

The conversations are always stimulating, and everybody looks great. She serves Absinthe, Chinatown pastries, and grapes and we walk around looking at the newest installations.

I went out six days out of seven this week, as well as working out at the gym every other day. I met with my trainer on Sunday.

He put me on the trade mill- and made me run...
I don't run.

"We have to get your heart rate to 168!" "Come on Maya! You can do it."

"I hate you..." I said, trying to break a smile, and trying not to fall on my face.

"If you want Hally Berry's body then you got work as hard as she does..." He said, clip board in hand.

For the first time in my life, I am not scared of working hard at working out. I go to the gym 4-5 times a week now. I watch what I eat, and I like seeing the changes on my body.

As I showered at the gym, I was thinking about tours I would like to organize, people I would like to manage, and festivals I would like to throw. I thought, "F*ck, I am a business women. When did this happen?"

I have always thought of myself as a creative person, and that business was the annoying side that I just had to deal with to pay the bills; but the ugly truth is- I like it...and sometimes, I even love it. I love producing, I love dreaming up an idea and making it come true; because to be a good or even great producer, you have to be the ultimate dreamer, you have to believe in your project and more importantly, you have to make other people believe in it. Convincing them that what you see in it- is worth it, even if they don't see it at that moment. I like that I can multi-task, take charge, and that people not only listen to me, but they also take me seriously.

As I walked home from the gym, I talked to Kev on the phone. He has become such a valuable friend, and really he feels like a colleague.

"You know Kev, I am thinking that I just have to accept that this is who I am now. You have to be who you are, and not who you were. You know what I mean?"

Kev laughed, "Yeah, I know what you mean."

I decided to go out that night by myself to write, and too outline specific projects I wanted to work on for Agent M. I went to a coffee shop, unfortunately they were closing within minutes of me getting there. So I went to my favorite bar across the street.

I was only by myself for a few moments before two beautiful Latina women sat next to me. We introduced ourselves, drank margaritas, talked loudly, and laughed alot. We were there for hours, each of us gave Jonah the bartender (yay! he's back!) a kiss on lips before we left, and exchanged numbers...

This is just one of the reasons I love NY. You can't be afraid to go out there on your own (which years ago, I would have been) because you never know the amazing people you are going to meet doing so.

The Ex as the Wingman

Last night Matt wanted to meet up for a drink before he went to California for his sisters Wedding. We bellied up at the bar "Welcome to the Johnsons" which is equidistant to from both our apartments and it's like $2 bucks a drink.
As we sat at the bar we both re caped our bad dates from earlier this week.
His, a girl that basically interviewed him was on a job interview:

"Where's your family from?"

"Do you plan on being in building restoration your whole life?"

"Smoking, is this something you intend to quit soon?"

Matt had buckled under the pressure:

"Cleveland."

"Not Sure.."

"Yeah, I think so, I don't know!!!"

My date was...disappointing.
After I had met the bass player the night before at his show, things seemed promising. He was sweet, intelligent, good looking, and a great kisser (yes, yes, yes, and yeeeessss). In between kissing in the doorway, next to the bar we gave each other bits of info on each other.

"You grew up in New Mexico, that's cool...." he said, kissing me again.

"Your Italian? Oh, I can see that..." kissing his neck.


"Do you still play the drums..." His hands on my face.

"From time to time." I said before four men on the other side of the street yelled "GO FOR IT!" and "CAN WE JOIN IN!"

Kissing continued in the bar, in the cab, in the elevator, and a for a few minuets at the hotel (get your heads out of the gutter, I'm a good girl, we were only there to get his bass).

And with a kiss good night and a promise for a proper date the next day, I was...pleasantly psyched...

The next day we agreed to meet up in Brooklyn were he lives and he was going to cook me dinner. This impressed me and I looked forward to getting to know him a little bit better, and uh, not in a bar.

He meet me on the sidewalk down from the train exit. He said he was exhausted and wasn't able to cook dinner, but asked we could go to this restaurant instead.

"Of course" I said. Still looking forward to talking to him.

It was apparent during dinner that he was tired. We ended up talking business (as is the occupational hazard of a music manager going on a date with a musician) for the next 45 min and then the meal came to an end. When the check came I offered to pay for my half.

"Good! He said, "I don't get paid until next week."

Call me old fashion, but when a women that you ask to dinner, takes the train from Manhattan to Brooklyn to meet you for your date- you pay for the dinner.

We walked outside, and I fully expected to hang out a little longer, perhaps changing the conversation to more interesting matters. No such luck.

"Man, I'm realllllly tired...Let's call it a night." He said leaning in to give me a kiss and hug.

I leaned away from him. "Oh, O.K. well, good night." I said, a little stunned by the abrupt ending to the evening. I began to walk away.

"Can I at least give you a hug?" He said.

"Um, I'm o.k." As I continued to walk away, with my back toward him.

"Let me walk you to the subway..." He said, he was trying.

"You know, I've got it. Thanks, and it was nice meeting you." I walked toward the Subway, disappointed with evening.

I sat on the Q train going over the Manhattan bridge and received a call from him. He didn't understand my abrupt departure, and wondered what he had done wrong. I appreciated his call, but If he didn't have a clue now, not much hope him catching on down the road.

Matt said to me, "He didn't know what he did wrong...hilarious. Man, some guys really don't have a clue. And why did he tell you all that stuff about cheating on his girlfriend on the road...keep your mouth shut dude."

Matt and I order a second round. He saw me looking at the bartender.

"You think he's cute don't you?" Matt said.

"No, well, a little. It's no big deal, aparently I have a crush on the world these days." I said drinking my margarita.

"He probably thinks I'm your boyfriend." Matt said.

"I know! Your totally cock blocking me!!!" I said jokingly.

"Oh, my God! Cock blocking Maya is BAD! I better correct that." and with that statement, Matt stood on his bar stool and shouted, "I just want everyone to know in this bar, that Maya is NOT MY GIRLFRIEND, I repeat, NOT MY GIRLFRIEND. We are JUST FRIENDS!"

And with that, I smacked my head.

"Damn Matt, you are the worse wing man..."

Good times.