mirrors

I had a moment this morning that I think might linger with me for the rest of my life.

I've been taking a class on 42nd Street and have been riding in all week on the subway.  For those of you who don't have to do a morning commute by subway (which is me; luckily I walk to work), there is a subway culture and there is also a very distinct feel to the morning ride.

First off, it is crowded.  I have been getting on the train by 8:20 and I never get a seat and usually am pushed up against several other people.  I have hair grazing my arm and there are about six hands piled on the pole, holding on tight.  This is the time that you look at no one.  That is part of the subway culture.  I've lived here for five years and in those five years have probably ridden the train about 1300 times round trip.  True story.  I did the math and even subtracted for those months that I go out of town or don't leave my little neighborhood.  It's safe to say that I'm a seasoned subway rider.  I only ever was talked to by a stranger, probably, twenty times.  Nineteen of those times were direction-related and one was a shoe compliment.  Suffice to say, people don't interact on subways.

It's because we don't look up.  Everyone is either on their phone playing a game, reading a book or the newspaper, in a conversation with people that they are with, or simply zoning out.  I'm the person that plays solitaire on her phone.  I think I mostly do it to avoid interacting with others.  I'm a bit of a lone wolf when I'm out in the world, I think.  I like to be incognito and not draw attention.  I hide behind my phone.  So, that is why this morning's moment was so ... touching, for lack of a better word.

I was jammed into the subway car, carefully staring at nothing and going over the twenty million thoughts and feelings I've been having surrounding my friend and her death.  I've had sleepless nights and tears out of nowhere.  I feel as though I have been living in a weird dream.  I have been feeling lonely, scared, and ... well, kind of just mourning this thing.  So, when I think about myself on that subway and what I might have looked like to others, I imagine a crinkled brow and really sad eyes that well up slightly every so often.  So, it made me feel a sense of connection with someone when I looked up into the mirror image of what I imagine I must have looked like.

He was probably in his twenties, darker skinned, maybe Dominican.  He was listening to music.  He was wearing tan shorts and a white shirt and when I looked up, he had the pained expression of a person who must have also just lost someone close to him.  I could see that he was fighting to hold back some tears.  He saw me looking at him and must have recognized my look because, within a second, we both nodded our heads and with our eyes, we said to each other, "I'm so sorry and I know it fucking sucks."  He looked up at me a few more times, each time with a slight, understanding smile.  I wanted to touch his arm.  I wanted to say, "I hope you have an ok day today,"  But I honestly felt like if I did, we would both start bawling and we didn't know each other.

Ever since I heard the news of my friend, I swear, I have been gentler with others.  I have been taking the time to see people more and to say things like, "it's ok" when someone says "sorry" after knocking into me.  Maybe that is the good that can come out of this sad situation; that I learn to accept people for who they are more readily, love a little more, and take the time to look into someone's eyes and be there so they don't feel so alone.  Because this world can be a cold and unforgiving place, but there is so much love around when you open your eyes and your heart and really look.

Dear Galina:

Dear Galina-

One night, back in 2006, I was browsing through the videos at Videorama on Alberta Street in Portland when I heard someone say, "Galina!"  I thought, I know that name!  Could this be the infamous Galina that lives with Mitzy?  I went right up to you and asked.  Your hair was super short at that time.  Your eyes were quizzical.  You were probably thinking, who the hell is this girl?  But as we got to talking, the laughter started and before I knew it, you were asking me questions about NYC (I had just gotten back from my visit) and recommending movies to me.

I always knew I wanted to be your friend.  I always thought you were super cool.  You have a great sense of humor, a curiosity for others, and a genuine heart.  Hanging out with you in Portland was fun, Vita Cafe, the waffle cart, coffee, smokes.  We had a good time, but I was moving back east... and was thrilled to find out you would be too.

You moved here in July of 2008.  My summer got so much better when you arrived.  Your mom helped moved you in and I bumped into you guys in the street while I was walking Finn.  You were super excited to see Finn and said Hi to him first.  I gave you shit for that.  You guys brought me and Nick to dinner at Wild Ginger... it was so nice to meet Glenna.  She was really sweet to us.

That summer was full of surprises and fun.  I got to do the exploring with you that I hadn't done on my own.  Remember the time we walked across the Williamsburg Bridge?  We walked all around the Lower East Side and the village, drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes, eating snacks, and of course, taking pictures.  Remember that cool community garden we stumbled upon all the way down St. Marks?  We sat in that gazebo in the garden and talked forever.  That was one thing, Galina; we were never short for conversation.

One day, I was going to the beach and asked if you wanted to watch Finn.  You walked for 20 minutes to my apartment to pick him up that morning and bring him all the way back.  I don't know why I didn't drop him off, but I didn't question it.  I figured if you offered...?  You said he lied in bed with you and you guys watched the Wire, which you were kind of obsessed with that summer.  Finn adored you.  Remember that waffle dog treat you bought for him?  Only you would manage to find a dog treat in the shape of a waffle.

Hanging around with you that summer was what gave me the much-needed courage to break out of my relationship that was all wrong for the both of us.  And I was always grateful to you for that.  I also went on my first roller coaster with you at the Jersey Shore that summer.  That was one of the most fun trips.  We laughed so hard, it was ridiculous.  All we did was walk up and down the boardwalk, ride the rides, people-watch, and smoke, but it was laughter-filled.  I can't remember a single conversation we actually had, but I remember us laughing a lot.  We stayed at Doctor's Inn, which was the strangest name.  You found that hotel.  It was an odd place but cool at the same time.

I remember on my birthday that year, August 19th, you showed up at my door with a little present.  It was a dollar sign necklace.  I wore it that day. I have it on in that picture you took of me by the East River, but I never wore it after that; it was too goofy and I felt silly.  Sorry for that.

That summer, I became obsessed with the song, Hang On Little Tomato.  You started calling me Tomato.  You even bought me vintage salt and pepper shakers in the shape of tomatoes.  That was one of the most thoughtful gifts.  You are a very VERY good gift-giver.  One Christmas, you gave me a book on spirit animals.  Remember?  Your spirit animal is the spider.  Mine is the hawk and it said that hawks and spiders get along very well together.  And I think we did.  One year, for your birthday (33rd maybe?) I gave you a necklace with a tiny wishbone. You actually wore that necklace for a really long time.  I had a bad cold that night but you insisted on hugging me anyway.  That was a funny moment in our friendship.  The two of us were not really huggers, but I remember one day, out of the blue, you said "we can be friends that hug, ok?"  and I said, "ok."  And from then on, we'd hug each other goodbye.

Another thing I thought was really cute about you was  the way your goodbyes would last forever.  We would, literally say goodbye and start talking again and get into another 15 minute conversation, say goodbye again, and then bump into someone, say goodbye again, and .... so on.  It was always in odd places too... like right by the subway entrance.  Speaking of subways, we would always get each other lost.  Remember that time you were following me and I was following you from Atlas on 2nd to the L train... the L doesn't run on 2nd.  We walked all the way to Chelsea before we realized that neither one of us were actually leading the way.  But I loved getting lost with you.  Because we would talk and laugh and talk and laugh.  Your laugh.  It is the best, isn't it?  Every friend you had and every friend of mine that you met all agreed on one thing: your laugh is infectious and nothing short of wonderful.  Remember that time I was walking with you to Urban Rustic and someone said something funny, you laughed and we bumped into Zach.  He said he heard your laugh from a block over and that's how he found us.  

I do miss my movie buddy, Galina.  You and I spent so much time and money at the IFC, Angelika, and Sunshine.    Did you know that a new theater opened up here in Williamsburg?  I go a lot but today, a friend of mine and I went to see a movie at the IFC and guess what?  We sat in the same theater you and I saw Antichrist in... that was a lot of fun.  Seeing Antichrist with you, Flemming, and Fryd.  Remember that part where she hammered his penis, that girl in front of us screamed bloody murder and the whole row of us burst out in laughter?   I still laugh when I think of that moment.  Remember the time we were standing outside Angelika smoking in the freezing cold and you spotted James Franco?  I, of course, insisted we follow him.  You were way not into my uncool plan, but you humored me and we followed him for a block and a half... thanks for that.  

You came here to study photography and that you did.  I think you breathed, ate, and dreamed in photography.  I love the fact that I got to see your scavenger hunt show at ICP before your classes began and I got to see your exhibition at the end when you graduated.  I felt so proud of you.  I knew how hard you worked.  I also got to see how much your work changed over time, yet that style was still there.  You are so very very talented, Galina.  I always felt silly showing you anything I'd done, yet you always called me an artist and cheered me on.  And I thank you for that.

One of my favorite memories was when we made a little bed on my rooftop and watched Tim and Eric outside.  I loved Tim and Eric and I think I got you to love them too.  We watched the whole disc and we joked around about that Brownie Mountain song... I felt like we were always going to milkshake mountain... So Many Milkshakes with you.  Vegan cookie dough milkshakes that tasted like frosting... mmmmmmm.  

Remember when I made you watch The Baby.  You were going to leave but I wanted you to just see the first 10 minutes of what I thought to be the most terrifyingly funny cult movie in the universe... You couldn't leave after 10 minutes, though.  You stayed for the entire movie.  It was just that good, wasn't it?  And I also got you to watch Jersey Shore!  On New Year's Eve, you came over with two snuggies that you found in Arkansas (I remember you were actually concerned because all the stores were sold out of them.  You texted me an urgent message that you couldn't find any snuggies! But then you did, and they were pepto pink), pumpkin waffle batter, and a waffle iron.  We made waffles, coconut french toast and watched the Jersey Shore season finale.  Flemming dropped by and I got really embarrassed of the snuggie because we had just started dating, but then he insisted on taking our picture in them.  I loved that New Years.  

I also loved that October we went to that farm sanctuary in Woodstock to visit my chicken that I sponsored, Olive.  The funniest and best thing that happened was when that goat head-butted you and knocked you over!!!  That was ridiculous... I laughed really hard.  Sorry!  You might have been a little embarrassed, but it was way too hard not to laugh.  We stayed at my brother's that night and his canary, who lived right outside the room we stayed in, was making noises that sounded exactly like guitar riffs, which my brother warned us about.  You liked my brother and he liked you too.  But that's not saying much; everyone likes you because you're just so likable.

There are so many memories.  I know the minute I stop writing this, I will think of five other funny things that happened.  I know it wasn't all good either.  I wish that we could have talked again.  I wish that we had stayed close.  But that's life, isn't it?  Filled with ups and downs and times of silence and separation...

 So, maybe I will just imagine that we are still standing on the corner saying one of our never-ending goodbyes filled with laughter and "one more cigarette."  Maybe we don't need to say goodbye after all...

I love you forever, Galina.  I don't think you'll ever comprehend how much I adore you.