Snowstorm in Manhattan

Let's take a break from fashion....

Snowstorm in Manhattan, how are you?

We're snowed in. Cuddled up. Reading, packing, moving in circles and I finally decided to go for a coffee. It was 50 feet from my front door and an entire mission of itself.

How beautiful is the snow piled on the cars, falling all around us, trapping us in our happy, sad, anxious little universes? Forcing us to look inside our homes and selves for the day is at a standstill while the winds blow up imaginary art in the sky with her snowstorm.

In the snow, as it all falls down, I feel, I felt a heat.
Maybe it's something new from the last month when we wished the rain were just snow, when I chose New York to California...again.
The others on the west don't get to experience this concrete jungle snowstorm, oh how lucky are we?
Maybe it's just the numb to the cold from the days past growing up in these blizzards on a lake in Michigan,
Is this feeling of progress, aging, insignificance, and that ones I love are somewhere in the heat a warm feeling indeed?

In all these ways that the snowflakes fall and freeze and melt and become,
there is no way to stop it.
You must let it snow, and wait for the sun, and the change, and the spring to come and try to enjoy it.

I didn't actually have to try at all.

If ever there were a time to wish for a mountain in manhattan, this is it.
And if ever there were a time to appreciate a kid with a snowball in his hand, this was today.
I saw a grown up kid with one and the kid crossing his path follow suit.
Precious.

I think it's time to take a trip on my snowboard. Who's in? Or actually who is out?

Snowstorm in Manhattan...why do I love you?