Back to Brooklyn, Morning in Bed-Stuy
Yuan's in the other room, asleep.
I'm up but out of it, having got to bed at 3am, consequently wide awake at 7am. I'm never awake so early.
Yuan's moved my table on the roof. I don't know if it was placed there, angled against the sun like that, on purpose. Maybe it would have been shady there at the time she moved it.
It's looking like a fine day out there, if the underappreciated park thing across the street is ay sign of what the world is like outside today.
The street's closed at Gates. NYPD has taped up the intersection. This is for Eid al-Adha, I bet, because my 311 app said there's no street cleaning today or tomorrow. I bet the Muslim center at Gates and Ralph is doing their morning prayer in the street again. It's a beautiful thing to see. I don't know if it's appropriate to photograph it. If I, a white guy in the black neighborhood, was spotted taking photos of the Muslims in the streets, I'm sure people would presume I'm judging the crowd and being critical, inevitably going to post something disparaging on Instagram. I just think it's beautiful that the prayer is so public at a time when Western societies are so critical of Islam. I think it's beautiful that the NYPD is there to close the street and stand watch. Isn't that upholding our American idealism, freedom to worship?
I want to go and take a photo, don't think I should.
I will just keep unpacking, re-organizing things in my bedroom.