It was kind of a tough night. No one major thing happened, but I was just kind of off. As I left the New York Times building tonight, I knew I needed to start taking pictures, so to warm up, I started at the first street corner. I wasn't taking pictures of anything in particular, although a guy powerwashing the sidewalk called out, asking if the picture was good. He seems slightly annoyed, but also curious, and asked to see the picture. It wasn't any good, which I knew, but I tried to explain the composition. He was clearly unimpressed (it was a bad picture, my first of the night), and kind of blew me off. I don't like to be intrusive. I'm just looking for a bit of beauty in the world, but I hate when I disappoint strangers I interact with. I was already a bit down, and this just devastated me. I didn't even want the interaction, but wanted to be respectful. Just because I can take a picture, doesn't mean every shot is good.
It really ate me up. I knew my best shot was to keep walking for a bit until I wasn't feeling so crap, so I walked from the Bus Terminal to Grand Army Plaza on East 59th Street, about 23 blocks away. Even as I boarded the subway, I wasn't back to normal, but music helped. Then, as I got a sandwich from my local deli, the guy behind the counter and I had a quick bit of back and forth. He made me laugh. Just a bit, but it helped.
People in Queens might not be as edgy or sheek as in other areas, but they're had working, good people, and they're often some of the most friendly I encounter. I'm grateful for my community, especially on the darker days.