 | I really like the quiet you find in a city. It’s different from country-quiet. I spent a lot of time growing up on my grandmother’s farm just outside Loving, Texas, and that was quiet within quiet. There was the quiet of the house, quiet of the yard, quiet of the surrounding fields and the road with very few cars, quiet of the neighboring farms and sleepy Loving down the road. Layers of quiet. You had to work to get out of the quiet. Even if you screamed in an effort to make noise, it was immediately swallowed up and negated by the quiet. |
In cities, on the other hand, the quiet is usually only one layer deep--the layer you pick. A bookstore, a park, a church building. The quiet is so precious there because it is not the default, the participants have chosen it. When you’re done being quiet, you can leave and get back to noise, but you take your layer of quiet with you. It will last a while, and let you interact with others when you’re ready.
Two places I discovered in New York City that let you enter a layer of quiet are Housing Works Bookstore and the Cloisters.
When I entered Housing Works bookstore, I had no idea it was anything other than an independent bookstore with a cafe. The architecture is stunning, with twenty-foot ceilings, a second floor built on a catwalk around the perimeter half-way up, curving staircases and tall windows.
Two places I discovered in New York City that let you enter a layer of quiet are Housing Works Bookstore and the Cloisters.
When I entered Housing Works bookstore, I had no idea it was anything other than an independent bookstore with a cafe. The architecture is stunning, with twenty-foot ceilings, a second floor built on a catwalk around the perimeter half-way up, curving staircases and tall windows.
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We ate turkey/apple/brie/fig spread sandwiches and drank chai in the cafe, then shopped for books.
As I looked around, I noticed that it was not just any bookstore. Housing Works is an organization whose mission is to end HIV/AIDS and homelessness through provision of services and entrepreneurial businesses. They have thrift stores, the bookstore and cafe, and a catering business which help support their efforts and employ their clients. Most of the people working in the bookstore and cafe the day we visited were volunteers. I love this kind of program, that works with people in need and people who have the means to help.
I also visited the Cloisters. It’s part of the Metropolitan Museum, located in the far northern end of Manhattan. The Rockefellers and a local artist got together and bought a boatload of European medieval art and architecture bits, and built the Cloisters to house it all. It looks like American Hogwarts. The gardens are lovely, with paths, fountains, and medieval plants. Even though I’m not a big fan of medieval paintings (those are some butt-ugly babies) I found this collection very appealing. You don’t go to see just the paintings, but to see the buildings and grounds as well, so I didn’t mind the two-dimensional saints and sour housewives. The unicorn tapestries are fabulous, the knick-knacks are glorious, and the books made me want to be a monk, reading that tiny script with gigantic colorful illustrations.
As I looked around, I noticed that it was not just any bookstore. Housing Works is an organization whose mission is to end HIV/AIDS and homelessness through provision of services and entrepreneurial businesses. They have thrift stores, the bookstore and cafe, and a catering business which help support their efforts and employ their clients. Most of the people working in the bookstore and cafe the day we visited were volunteers. I love this kind of program, that works with people in need and people who have the means to help.
I also visited the Cloisters. It’s part of the Metropolitan Museum, located in the far northern end of Manhattan. The Rockefellers and a local artist got together and bought a boatload of European medieval art and architecture bits, and built the Cloisters to house it all. It looks like American Hogwarts. The gardens are lovely, with paths, fountains, and medieval plants. Even though I’m not a big fan of medieval paintings (those are some butt-ugly babies) I found this collection very appealing. You don’t go to see just the paintings, but to see the buildings and grounds as well, so I didn’t mind the two-dimensional saints and sour housewives. The unicorn tapestries are fabulous, the knick-knacks are glorious, and the books made me want to be a monk, reading that tiny script with gigantic colorful illustrations.
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After you visit the Cloisters, take the books you bought and go sit in Fort Tryon Park next door. I bought Architecture: A World History; How to Read Churches: A Crash Course in Ecclesiastical Architecture; and A Time to Keep Silence, by Leigh Patrick Fermor. Break out that Snicker bar you’ve been keeping in your purse for just such an occasion. Look at the Hudson and feel the connection with the unicorns and apostles, happy because you have books, a view, and the wholesome goodness of a Snickers.
| To all you extroverts out there who thrive on noise, conversation, and meet-and-greet, sorry if this is a bit extreme for you. Bear with me--I’ll try to do a noisy post soon! For all you reflective types out there, get to New York City fast so you can have a different kind of quiet. |  |