“People, endless, streaming, with strong voices, passions, pageants,
Manhattan streets with their powerful throbs, with beating drums as now,
The endless and noisy chorus, the rustle and clank of muskets, (even
the sight of the wounded,)
Manhattan crowds, with their turbulent musical chorus!
Manhattan faces and eyes forever for me.”
~Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass
I’ve been from Anchorage, AK to Angkor Wat but never to New York. I guess I always thought I’d go there someday. Maybe as part of a writers’ conference or (in my dreams) to meet my agent for a book-launch party hosted by one of the Big 6 (now only 5) publishers in New York (insert far-away dreamy sigh here).
But When Whitman wrote,
“Keep your splendid silent sun,
Keep your woods O Nature, and the quiet places by the woods,
Keep your fields of clover and timothy, and your corn-fields and orchards,
Keep the blossoming buckwheat fields where the Ninth-month bees hum;”
I answered, “thank you very much, don’t mind if I do!” I’m far more the type to seek quietude and solitude when writing. Sure, I love visiting new places, having adventures and meeting people. I even indulge in caffe-writing, people-watching, and wandering the streets of strange cities soaking up their spirit and vibe but I always return to the quiet places to process those marvelous experiences. I go to the woods. I wasn’t sure Manhattan was the place for me.
It was Dearest who wanted to visit New York city. He wanted to visit the 9/11 memorial and museum. He had been so indulgent with my solo-travels and patient of my travel ambitions that I immediately agreed to the trip. Besides a City with so much literary history and so culturally influential as New York is teeming with literary destinations to explore. I couldn’t, in good conscience, omit the quintessential world capital from my travel plans.
New York, New York it is. I’ll rome Manhattan with the spirit of Whitman and see what he can show me. Start spreading the news!