Wednesday. 2006. Breakfast. I went early to the farmers market in Union Square. I wondered around fresh apples, apricots and nectarines; vendors, costumers, the autumnal gentle air and myself. I felt lazy, lazy and happy. I got something sweet and I felt like having a strong black coffee, but instead I went to a nearby juice bar for a mango-pineapple blend.
Today, I love the city; today I do not miss the tropic. I walk and walk, and the only thing that is bothering me is that today, I do not feel like making art anymore.