Rush Hour at Grand Central
Wednesday morning commute at Grand Central Terminal. I was standing on a balcony when the guys from the Apple store approached me. "Are you an artist? Silly question, of course you are." They tried to sell me on a tablet with procreate. It was tempting, but I told them I'd stick with my pen and my notebook. Another guy came up to talk. "Your people kinda remind me of this artist. Brazilian guy." He pulled up the work of Carybé on his phone, colorful scenes of people walking on beaches and dancing at Carnaval and practicing capoeira. I told him thank you. I asked if he was from Brazil. "No, I'm from Hawaii. Just moved to NYC a few weeks ago. You know you kinda remind of that other artist too. Italian guy. What was his name? Picasso." I thanked him again. I didn't have the heart to correct him.