It was hot and humid
​And in the middle of the day
The sky opened up
And nature turned on her own display for July fourth
With rolling booms of thunder
And flashes of lightning
And warm summer rain
Turning to steam as it hit the pavement.

What would Abuela and Abuelo think of their nieta
Watching a musical about Imelda Marcos
In New York
Not history for them, but lived events
Turned into a dance party
With flashing lights and a disco ball
And sparkling costumes
And a DJ narrating events
What was it like to watch the paradise they had grown up in
Fall to pieces
(Part of why they left)
What would they think of me leaving Sydney
What would they think of New York?
I wish I could ask them.

​I posted a picture from under the bridge in Astoria
The one that looks like the Sydney Harbour Bridge
And friends from Oz thought I was back home
And I felt the love
From across the oceans. 

The joy of conversation
With like-minded theatre nerds.

In the fun of a family group call spanning
Australia and England and the US
(Remember when Vicky first left and it cost a fortune to make a single international call?!)
I forgot to eat before I headed out on my run
Stopped by Kinship Coffee
And grabbed a ginger molasses cookie
And I ran my intervals around the park
And the air was warm
And the flowers were bright
And I felt
​Good.

​The rain held off and
The smoke stayed away just enough
For us to to take a tiny boat
Cheering and laughing across the waves 
To Governor’s Island
Where a feast was waiting
Overseen by chef Missy Robbins
And Lady Liberty herself, showing off in the setting sun

Cocktails to start, decorated with orange peel rinds
We lounge on deck chairs facing the water
Admiring all the boats passing by and
Talk about life and death and all that is between
We realize it has been twenty whole years since we first met
Tell 18-year-old us
In 20 years you will still be friends
And you both live in New York
And one of you is getting married next week
And one of you just separated from your love
And here you both are

The meal starts with caciocavallo cheese melted over the grill
And smeared onto toasted garlicky sourdough bread
Wine from the islands of Italy is poured like water
And plates adorned food are delivered to the table with breathtaking speed
Charred pickled scallions with calbrian chili and oregano
Artichokes and smashed english peas
Toasted sesame bread - cloud-like in their pillowy softness
Fava beans with grispy garlic and grilled snap peas dressed with salsa verde and capers
Asparagus melting in senape, hazelnuts and brown butter
Spring onions basking in pesto trapanese
Littleneck clams dancing in charred lemon butter
(literal heaven in a clamshell)
Salmon and fennel and branzino and potatoes swimming in lemon garlic butter
Topped off lemon gelato and crunchy but astonishingly soft biscotti
The mmm’s and aaah’s and a little more of that one
And can you pass the other plate please
And the laughter of fourteen strangers
Bonding over food and wine and the fabulous view

How lucky we are to be here
How extraordinary
How fortunate
How delicious
How thankful
We are.

​It was hard to find respite
In the noisy busy city
But I encountered a flock of flamingos
And a leaping cow
And their out-of-place-ness
Made made me smile

A small step forward
In my business
That will hopefully mean
Leaps and bounds

How appropriate that the morning after pride
There was an enormous full arc of a
Bright beautiful rainbow
Gracing the sky
She made my heart sing

I wore my sparkly shoes to work
We had a mini pride parade
Which was joyful and fun and flamboyant and silly
And all the wonderful

Why can’t we shine
In our full radiant sparkly-ness
Every single day?