The LES place was well located, close to a park, on the top floor of a walk-up, brownstone house. Although by the vibe of the building inside it seemed we were in a ghetto place, the tenant was a German, apparently well-rounded painter in his forties, single father of a toddler. They would be off to Europe for a few weeks. It was a long, rectangular loft, with all walls covered with his colorful art pieces. It was very basic. I could see myself there. Maybe because of the unorthodox setting, maybe because I knew it was only for one month, maybe because I was getting closer to that tipping point. I was surprised when I spotted on his crowded desk an oversized picture frame with Osho on it: our conversation took a turn to this immediately. He was also shocked by and in disbelief of the events of February.
In spite of my everlasting openness, I soon listened: “There is no sitting area in the living room. And would you sleep in that space? (the ‘bedroom’ was a square carved inside a wall, just enough for the mattress- imagine Zen meets train) I think it is overpriced; offer him 25% less.”
Very much in time, after my disenchanted enchantment, Faith, the woman from Brooklyn I had been corresponding with called me to arrange a visit to her place.
Another reason why this is truly condo ‘fishing’? Fishermen cannot get over-excited whenever they feel something pulling the string; it can be junk or seaweed and not necessarily a fish biting in. They have to remain calm, grounded, yet fully aware of what is going on with the fishing rod, and prepared to pull the string to bring the catch in a timely manner. Meditation is said to be like fishing. Let me tell you that condo-fishing, too.
Orchard Street –Lower East Side, NY
Photo Credit: About.com
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