new york is like life on steroids. or hallucinogens, depending on how you choose to look at it.
in my 29 years of existence, i have learned to appreciate the little things in life. the bizarre; the awkward; the insane. i used to love to spot the lady who sat on the corner of golden gate and van ness with her life sized teddy bear and i can never help but smile when the old man who tells michael jackson jokes gets on the 1 train and starts in on his diatribe.
this joy found in the nuances of life is what, in my opinion, make it worth living.
as i was using the path underground at the 14th street stop to get from the f to the 1, i spotted this lonely dress shoe. no owner in sight. no partner to be found. and no attention being paid to the singular leather piece of footwear.
kind of lonely. kind of beautiful. and most certainly strange, as is life in new york.
