Friday, June 26, 2009

Brooklyn in a Dream

We were driving all over the periphery of the borough, over too fast highways, magnetically clinging to the angular dynamism of bridge steel, looking for an indeterminate destination. We find it, a housing project that resembles a quad at an old University, but where the Gothic heaviness is sweetened with the comeliness of a patchwork of Tudor chocolate/vanilla details. A visual playground, the building speaks of the fattening of essence that derives when all occurrences are viewed as diamond-solid learning experiences of particular personal worth, and also the feeling of discovering one's unique sensibility as receiving the supernal gift. And other things.

I'm told we won't be staying in that building, but a shorter one across from it, white, with wider windows and fewer stories. I press the buzzer. Before going in, I notice the tree in the court, which seems to blow to the left with bonsai lyricism. Its flowers are brown papery wheels or spirals, as numerous as galaxies, cascading in clusters that build like the movement of a passion. Up close, I see it has fruits, and taste them. They are tender, granular, sweet and nutty, coated with crumb, they are nut ball cookies. Very fortifying.

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