June 23--John Marin, Brooklyn Bridge. On rainy days crossing that bridge looks like you're walking into another reality. Big drops plunge down like bombs and the soggy pedestrians look like the condemned plodding to their fate. The rain raised a film of oil that makes the mesh walkway slick underfoot and the river far below is a sullen gray. The raindrop pock marks make the river look diseased. No one can imagine a friendly sunny day coming again. It will always be gray, always be wet, always be slick. A dreary day on the Brooklyn Bridge is a life sentence.
Are you planning to do something fun today? I wish I was. (pathetic enough for you?)