We fall asleep accidentally—exhausted, accidentally—after weaving our way in and out of the streets surrounding Aguacate and Lamparilla. We’re sprawled on the bed in the descending darkness of the afternoon of our first day in Havana, and something wakes me after 20 minutes.
My own story as a surfer has been short and sweet so far, having been out there with a board, most recently in Bali, only a handful of times. Still, however young a story, it’s been enough of a journey to understand the incredible wisdom at the core of the sport. And like many other sports, the physical realization of this wisdom is life-changing.
Did you know that Aviv and I shared a certain look in our eyes exactly a year ago today? It was a look of telepathy. A magic realization where we both knew at the very same moment that New York was a dream that had already been fulfilled, and that it was time to move on.
There was a moment last night, where I was washing the dishes after dinner. Putting the small saucepan away in its spot beneath the kitchen island, I suddenly had a flashback to seeing this piece of furniture for the first time, when the previous tenant of our Wooster St loft was living here.
Yesterday, a new British friend came by to give both the banana tree + fig leaf a new home in Brooklyn. We'll miss them so!...but it's also so great to know that the trees will move in together...there's the cue: two leaves of a feather...