shopping for someone else is, at least, easier than shopping for myself. that is, to say, just shy of impossible. At least for another person, there is the greater ease in appreciating something that cost one nothing. (Albeit for a shorter time than the appreciation for something that you struggled to obtain.) And, there is a certain sentiment that isn't found in objects you bought for yourself.
And still, I walk for hours, up and down the streets of soho and the lower east side... a fruitless quest to buy to give. These items are cliché and these are geriatric. I feel maybe I lack a vision of the recipient with the item, and that is the problem. But my visual memory is so poor. I get lost just trying to see a face as clearly as I want, nevermind imagining some interchangeable accessories.
So, I pause on a stoop, and browse iPhoto. And to my surprise, without warning, this becomes the most relaxing moment of the day. Looking at photos while seated on the broad, textured metal stoop of some side street in soho. Why it felt as good as settling into a warm bath I cannot say. And then I thought of the Hawkeye photo that Jane had taken of me...
This is where I went for a few minutes in the middle of an otherwise ordinary day.
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