I commuted from Fairfield this morning: something that is 1. savage as I need to wake up two hours earlier and 2. somewhat lovely as sleeping on the train is comforting. The buzz, the whirl. Warm in your jacket. The key is to get on the express so that the train isn't making stops that jolt you awake with additional movement and gusts of cold air.
Upon arrival I gathered up my things and emerged into the honey glow of Grand Central. I love the convergence of all voices and sounds into one muffled mess. The peculiar smell and vaulted ceilings. Folks heading to work, to school. Home. Tourists stuttering the movement to take photos. You feel important as you shuffle through- towards your next destination. I stopped to take a Polaroid.
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