The two of us continue to wander through the snowy streets, barely a word is exchanged, but currently there is no need ofr verbal distractions, the aesthetic pleasures are more than satisfactory. We decide in our cosmopolitan way to "do lunch", but somewhere local, somewhere with a sense of personality, somewhere with blue window sills and mis-matching chairs....
....Home made lentil soup is on the menu, and it's not long before the dented enamel bowls of steamy broth arrive with chunks of giabatta in a similarly distressed vessel. This is idealic, the buttery liquid warms the throat as the window seat provides a constant film like reel of entertainment, as we watch downtown go about its daily business.
They run across the street, dodging the traffic with a cheeky jump and twirl. Their neon jackets create slashes of colour, cutting across the dull grey of the New York sity skyline by day. They stop in front of an overwhelming wall of colour, covered in ethnic sketches. African tribal attributes are apparent, contrasted with a zesty urban backdrop of vibrant yellow and magenta. He dances, freely and carelessly infront of his scenery, and although his movements are not choreographed his body form shapes artistically familiar with balletic figures such as D.Bussell.
Tuesday, 3 February 2009
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