GABRIELA YARELIZ

By: Gabriela Yareliz

I am going to be taking a break from the city soon. I am going to drain Fifth Avenue from my veins for a bit. Going home is a detox. Slowly, I stop wearing black structured clothes, pretentious city makeup, and I breathe a little more deeply; my adrenaline levels become normal; my phone gets forgotten in random corners; and I learn to sleep again. It’s a process, and always very psychological. I love Christmas break because I truly won’t be checking and doing school work (unlike Thanksgiving break, which is relaxing but filled with anxiety because of the constant workload, but the distance leaves you feeling frantic and distracted). I hope that someday, I can live in a warm place where I can look a bit more bohemian and relaxed. No matter what, I need to be somewhere where there is a body of water. Where there is water, there is life.

But enough about the future and my impending rehab post law school exams (because that is exactly what it is– rehab). I wanted to share some of my most recent winter shots from my little long walks. I love walking with no time constraint and with an open grid of old and new places. So, come along.

This was a rainy day in the Village. I went to my favorite and frequented Grace Church to chill in silence, pray and listen to the organ player (who is amazing).

At Union Square, the annual Holiday Market is in full swing. Vendors from all over the world come and set-up shop.

(Someone is tired of pushing through thousands of people. See girl on the right. Ha. This is what Christmas shopping does to people. The struggle is real.)

The Love Man in motion, in the subway station. He was dancing and making faces at me. I just smiled and waved (always the encourager).

Me, underground, going to walk Fifth Ave. and Madison, to go window shopping for dresses that costs thousands and millions.

Hello Park Avenue!

I took a short break at the St. Bart’s Church on Park Avenue. Lovely place; lovely music.

Shopping, anyone? Me, looking nouveau riche while knowing that I would have to sell my blood and organs to afford anything from these boutiques; and I like and will be keeping my blood and organs, thank you very much.

And below is St. Patrick’s Cathedral. What you don’t see is that around the church, on the sidewalk, there were so many people, the police was crossing people with ropes on the crosswalks. You didn’t have to walk. The people moved you along. I was swept into in the church by like a hundred people. I am pretty sure that the church was beyond fire-hazard capacity. I got slapped in the face repeatedly (at church, how appropriate? Maybe not…*wink*) At one point, I was so overwhelmed by the people inside that I was in a corner, and a woman hit me in the face by accident while walking by (the perils of being short). She apologized and then looked at her friend and said, “Oh my gosh! I hit that girl in the face, and I think she was praying.” This made me laugh.

Below is the Tiffany’s building, all decked out. Windows were filled with artistic displays, by theme, with music.

This was my favorite display. I loved all of the literary figures’ framed photos in the background. A dream.

Oh, New York! You and your magical lights, overpriced food and clothes, flashy advertisements, musical dark churches, frivolous pleasures–ridiculous, lavish, gaudy and overwhelming. Still, somehow you manage to gift each one of us something special, according to our desires. You intoxicate us and turn us into a species that doesn’t sleep, doesn’t stop and doesn’t settle.