Driving to New Jersey, yesterday, was a strange experience. Deja vu, I guess. At first I wasn’t sure I remembered how to get to the upper level of the bridge, then where to go in Fort Lee to buy the last few things Charna needed for camp. But it all fell into place easily. After all, I lived here eight years.

The bridge has a new coat of paint, and the scaffolding that clothed it for the last few years has been completely removed. I’m sorry I won’t see it at night when it is lit up. The renovations on my old apartment building are still not finished. It is almost a year since they sealed the windows on my terrace and began the work. I can’t imagine what they are doing for all of this time, but I can imagine what my neighbors must be saying screaming. I’m glad I didn’t attend the last coop annual meeting. That must have been a nightmare. And I am increasingly happy I got out of there.

Our drive to camp was uneventful. Charna was immediately embraced by her friends, everyone helped to unload her stuff from the car and with a hug and protestations of eternal gratitude, she was gone. I missed her when I got back to the apartment. Way too quiet.

Charna came back from Connecticut on the train. She’s become very sophisticated about train riding. This morning I will take her to camp in Port Jervis.

I spent the weekend looking at more images. On Saturday morning I went to the Museum of Sex to see Japanese erotic prints from the Edo era. In order to make the display seem more sexy and less historical the prints were displayed behind peep holes placed at varying heights requiring a lot of bending or standing on tiptoes. The exhibit was titled, "Peeping, Probing and Porn." Oh well.

Walking from the museum to catch a bus I passed a sign that said, "Vaults of Heaven." It was a fabulous exhibit of photographs of churches and cave churches in Turkey, presented by the World Monument Fund. The photos were probably 6 feet by 3 feet and presented sharp, clear details you would never be able to see if you visited the churches. They would be too high or too dark. I felt like I had gone from the ridiculous to the sublime.

Back to the Met on Sunday where I found out all about the Maya kings and gods. More sublime stuff.

Last night Charna and I went to see The Lion King. I wanted to take her for several years, but we could never plan enough ahead to get tickets. Now that we no longer live nearby I took advantage of the fact that we would be returning for one night together in the city. What an amazing spectacle that is. I’m sure I could watch it many times and never tire of just looking at the costumes. They are incredible. The whole thing is really over the top and I loved it.

After putting Charna on the train to Connecticut this afternoon, where she will spend the weekend with a friend, I went to the Brooklyn Museum to see the work of Aminah Brenda Lynn Robinson. This is another visual feast. When I was here back in May I saw some of this show, but being too tired to really appreciate it, I resolved to return. Today was the day, and I’m very glad I did it. I get more pleasure through my eyes than any of my other senses. Each time I see a show like this in a museum, see beautiful landscapes, flowers or clouds I am grateful for this gift.

I tend to forget there are trees in New York City, outside of Central Park.
I walked from the Met back to Renee’s apartment, enjoying the blossoming trees, tulips blooming under the trees and an achingly beautiful blue sky.
Even though I am enjoying Pittsburgh, I really love New York, people walking around, traffic, barking dogs and all. I met Eli and Romina at the museum. We looked at some Asian art together, had lunch, then they went to look at paintings and I went back to the Japanese art. They had a lot of Hokusai prints, many I had never seen before. The screens I wanted to see were not on display. Many things are shown in poor light and I have trouble seeing them. I still have no contact lens for my left eye and sometimes that also presents problems. And there is that middle distance. I can see fairly well close up and sometimes fairly well at a distance, but the middle distance is a killer, and of course, low light is very frustrating.

The International Center of New York has a wonderful program for foreign visitors and immigrants to improve their English language skills, and for native speakers to meet these newcomers. I spent a lot of time there holding English conversations and teaching basic computer skills. I loved meeting so many people from other countries. Shirley Sun was my favorite conversation partner. We spent time together at the Center, we ate dim sum together, we went to the Met, the Cloisters, the American Indian Museum in Battery Park. We did a Story Corps recording together. Shirley came from China about 3 years ago. She loved to travel and told me about all of the places she went to in the US before she came to New York. When she was in her teens she visited 15 cities in China during the Cultural Revolution. Probably because her English was not very good, I always felt a sense of mystery about her. I’m sure there was much more she could tell. I’ve been reading Wild Swans, about the lives of three Chinese women, from bound feet to Mao. Maybe I can understand a little more about Shirley Sun.

I saw Shirley just before I moved to Pittsburgh. I promised to call her, but I was very busy because things were finally moving very fast. When I tried to call her after I got settled her phone was disconnected. I had two emails, three phone numbers for her and two for her friend Sally. None of them worked. I feel very bad; I don’t want to lose Shirley Sun. Next month, when I go to New York, I will try to find her, although I’m not sure where to begin.