They exit the train station and parade up the wide Geneva Boulevards past the chrome and the gold and the cheese and the chocolate and the watches and knives and the cheese. It reminds me of the start of this whole thing which was an opening in Dumbo under the gothic arches of the two bridges just after the dual steeple fell and gave way to the single protestant spire of Empire. He was out of her depth by the water taxi and she was in too deep. They hated eachother at first sight, but somehow wanted to fuck like wild animals and maybe spend the rest of their lives fighting and fucking at turns… but at that moment it was more about brunch and trying to fix the hangover from the cheap art wine at the opening. Had they met at the opening and maybe snuck off to her loft? Or had they only met on the ferry? I’m not certainn but it certainly refers to Whitman’s On Crossing Brooklyn Ferry and the idea was always that the ferry, at Fulton landing would somehow relate to the cable ferry at Basel and the way the cathedral looms over the Rhine with it’s double spires would echo in the conspicous absence of the twin towers… only leaving the gothic arches of the bridges.
I went to hear the Sermon at Greenwood cemetary and then Xmas shopping the next day after brunch and then monday I went for a long run, following a contrail down the slope of Brooklyn towards the wharfs and Fulton Ferry landing. I stopped to photograph every church along the line in the sky (I never stop being amazed by the number of churchs in Brooklyn). The N.Y. Water Taxi is having a freebie promotion where by you can get a round trip ticket to anywhere on the route for the price of an e-mail. So I drifted up to the remaining steeples now tallest in New York and thourght about my past and future.
