I live in Manhattan, the Empire State Building is, at most, a couch. It’s there on the horizon, always. Sometimes the colors are different, sometimes the fog obscures it (that creeps me out) but mostly it’s just a couch. I walk past it daily, usually looking up but rarely noticing it. It lacks the pleasing aesthetic of the Chrysler Building or the Flat Iron building. It’s boxy, it’s obnoxious and it’s flashy. It’s where we dump our guests (read: tourists) and what we look to for comfort. Hence a building is a couch and I’ve stretched the limit for metaphors for the rest of my life.
I was in a dance studio the other night and this was my view. I was mildly impressed with myself. In a dance studio, in Manhattan, being creative and expressive all while having this priceless view of one of the most famous buildings on earth.
I felt awesome. The end.