Lost...

Went to New York. Went to see The Gates. Took pictures. Lots and lots of pictures.

First pictures of The Gates. Then of people taking pictures of The Gates. People painting The Gates. Pictures girls hovering nearby as a crew filmed a v-jay at the Gates.

Then pictures at the Zinc Bar: Abigail with Anne Waldman.

Then pictures of orange in New York. To complement The Gates. An orange bag in the trash. Orange graffiti on scaffolding. Orange newspaper boxes. Orange sale sign. Orange stuff in a store window. Orange signs. Orange bars. Orange painted on the sides of a ramp. Orange Valva resturant. Orange hats. An orange teapot in the trash. Sonny's Florist awning, orange. Orange sign: Last Week of Sale! in a firework burst. Homeopathis foot care sign. Orange sign for tools in the window of a hardware store, with reflections from spools of wire. Orange rectangle in the middle of a blue and yellow door. The orange jacket of a man near the MoMA, him making a funny face at me.

And pictures at the MoMA: Abigail with Jim and James in front of a boy playing piano. Abigail and Jim wandering through paintings and sculpture. Jim telling Abigail about Jackson Pollock. Abigail and Jim and OOF! Jim in black and Abigail in white in front of black and white pantings.

Finally the orange hand telling us not to walk in front of Radio City Music Hall, an orange blob of light in the darkness with lines of moving light around it.

Lots of pictures. Some very good. Some very sweet.

Hook it up, download pictures. Go online to check email. Somewhere in the middle there computer freezes, freaks out, shuts down. Ten minutes later when I finally get it back up most of the pictures are gone.

Funny to have it happen while I am reading Jane's post about pictures. I got mad at my camera, wanted to hurt an inanimate object. Then got to thinking about pictures and taking pictures. About noticing things to take pictures of. People. And orange. And friends. Without the camera I wouldn't have noticed so many of those things. Wouldn't have enjoyed the hours of walking so much.

Moments, moments that matter. Real things go away. Pictures are sweet and they can be real but they are not the point. They are not why I do things. Tried to remember quickly the pictures that were lost so I wouldn't rely on them to remind me. Writing is more my style anyway.

My baby girl is kicking around on the floor. Jim is doing well in New York. Barring any major art heists those paintings will still be there next time. There will always be orange in New York. There will always be Don't Walk signs. And poetry readings. And the early pictures of The Gates are around to prove that they were there. Funny though that those too aren't going to stick around.

There is one set of pictures that were there still, pictures I took thinking about my father and his love of trains. Abigail on her first train ride, looking out the window at the rising sun.