And it was to this city, whenever I went home, that I always knew I must return, for it was mistress of one's wildest hopes, protector of one's deepest privacies. It was half insane with its noise, violence, and decay, but it gave one the tender security of fulfilment. On winter afternoons there were sunsets across Manhattan when the smog itself shimmered and glowed… Despite its difficulties, which become more obvious all the time, one was constantly put to the test by this city, which finally came down to its people; no other place in America had quite such people and they would not allow you to go stale; in the end they were its triumph and its reward. Willie Morris
New York, I love you, I miss you.
* this post is alternatively titled 'Morning Sickness, A Tale of Vomit and Tears in New York City.' I can not tell you how ill I felt in every single one of these photos.
* the photo of Nye's armpit is alternatively titled 'I Can't Believe You Stayed Out Late, Came Home Drunk then Threw Up in the Bath. Get Out of Bed, We're Going Sightseeing, I Don't Care If It's 89F And You Have A Headache. (You Asshole.)'
* we want to go back. Real Bad. If you are getting married and would like to pay our travel & accommodation expenses in return for nice photos, CALL ME.
* more C&N in NYC here.