Author Archives: d.ospina

https://youtu.be/X74NSJTM_sE

New York City supplies it’s residents with over 1.2 billion gallons of water a day but that’s not what caught my attention. I first became interested in the water/sewer system because of the story on the Osborn Association and their green/blue roof installation. I saw that there was far more beyond just roof installations but steel flood gates, climate change task forces, and renovation plans. I learned that the water system of New York City is not only dependent on the civilians, but weather as well. With weather, we must take into account climate change. Climate change is one of the biggest faces of fear to the water system and the city itself. Due to factors such as drought, flooding, and sea level rises, the City must take it upon themselves to enact change. There are things that New Yorkers can control when it comes to climate change, such as voting, controlling water usage and keeping up on things that affect them the most.

So when you leave the water running longer than needed, keep the ancient Chinese proverb in mind:

“When you drink the water, remember the spring.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2e-m3gnjKW4

The clouds masked the sky with gray. I had assumed before leaving my house that a rain coat would suffice for my outfit. At 11:00, I texted my best friend, Miriam, “Hey, I’m on my way. It’s cold, wear a coat.” I had arrived from my neighborhood in Ozone park to her apartment building in Sunnyside. We hopped onto the 7 train at 46st-Bliss Street Station.

We decided that we would take the N train to the New Museum. So, now we were chopping it up on the subway seats. Miriam and I were making up for the lost time in between our last meeting. We both agree, “College is time-consuming, depraving, pressuring but worthwhile.” She and I had fallen so deep into our conversation that before we knew it, we had missed our stop. Prince Street was our stop, but the N train was heading to Barclays Center. We saw the Brooklyn Bridge from across the water, flickering across our eyes as the train zoomed by. I saw this as my chance to catch the Brooklyn bridge from another angle, across another bridge and photographed it; click went my camera. This prompted us to take the B train uptown to Grand Street.

Emerging from Grand Street station, the street itself was bustling with people. The commotion had left the rain tapping the concrete on mute. Small migrant owned shops were sewed into the block. “Ooh! Look at this little shop, so many lights!” Miriam exclaimed, it caught her eye like a moth to a flame. The lights danced on my camera screen, click. The paths were small and narrow, and after making a left turn we arrived to a sleek gray building titled, “New Museum.” “I would start from the top floor down,” said the Curator after handing our tickets.

I have never been excited to go to a museum, and after this excursion, the feeling remains the same. Having Miriam at my side influenced me to look at works of art closely. She is one of the smartest people in the world to me.  I was doing my best to break them down into a thought, because I never take the time to read that very long piece of text explaining the whole exhibit.  I noticed how I looked towards the other individuals gazing at canvases on the wall. “What the hell do they make of this?” I thought to myself. I have always felt as though I am behind others, even when I am in the same place as they are.

We reached an exhibit that contained small sculptures, containing a small resemblance to the sculptures my mom brought home from Colombia. These sculptures followed a similar theme towards the Spanish colonization in the Americas. One of which had a woman holding her infant on top of a building, titled, “Center of Internment of Foreigners.” The building was flooding with the severed heads of colonizers. Another, with two children sitting on a ledge and a saying painted on the rim “they wanted us buried, but they did not know we were seeds.” “Wow!” Miriam said with a smile, as she explained this piece, I could feel my appreciation for this work of art grow. Therein I appreciated having her there, because I wouldn’t have taken the time to use my first tongue (Spanish) to translate that saying.

We preceded to walk into the next exhibit, a collection of canvases were pasted all over the walls, high and low. The paintings all shared the same color scheme. Thinking back on it now, that room felt like it was closing in on us by the second. “This feels morbid,” I said. “I think the person [artist] wanted it this way,” Miriam responded. One photo stuck out to me, it was a drawing of two legs walking while it was carrying a ton of things all held together by strings. “That’s me,” I say to Miriam pointing to the work.  I carried a lot of things through my life, and now I bear the weight of my mother on my shoulders. It couldn’t feel more relative to what I am going through now.

This excursion was not for the sake of going to museum for fun. For me, it was the opportunity to experience something new with someone that I genuinely love and care for. The New Museum was insightful. That is all I can say about it. However, going to the Museum, talking to Miriam and making new memories together is what made this excursion, one for the books.

I have lay claim to Astoria Park and the New Museum. Thank You!!!

This is the stage at the La Guardia Community College Performing Arts Center.

This is where I used to perform, in my heyday.

This is where I encountered stage fright first hand, and the same stage where I overcame it.

This is the stage I walked on for my graduation.

I watched a performance of, In the Heights by Lin Manuel Miranda. To which, reminded me of my days, and made me glad that I have grown for a new stage!I was happy to see that they could still put on a remarkable show without me or my colleagues who would amp up the process of making a show come to life.I decided to come to this stage, to take my seat as a member of the audience, to watch my theater classmates who are still in my previous high school making their final theatrical stretch. Corny as it is, that “stage” is finding myself and who I want to be in the world.  So, in light of that…Cheers to new beginnings!

This photograph was taken at the Fulton Street train stop on the A, 4, 5, 6, line. This stop in particular is close to the World Trade Center. What I want to share about this particular spot is that this is where a woman on the train was looking to arrive while on the R train heading to Brooklyn. She looked lost, confused and took the chance to ask another woman on the train for directions in Spanish. As I’ve said in class, I tend to stay out of these New York moments because my thick-skinned self would rather not. However…I thought of how my mom barely lets her chancla touch a train car. Not to mention how lost she would be if she had to take the MTA alone. The woman, with her two children at her hips had told her if she takes the E train or this train to Cortlandt Street she would arrive just fine. After some reluctance, I spoke up and asked her what the problem was. After explaining to her that the directions given to her by the mother were correct, she had simply denied our claims. It had us both dumbfounded, and left us thinking; why would you ask for directions if you claim to know where it is? 5 minutes later, she gets off at Prince Street. Next thing I know, me and this mother are talking about how ridiculous it was to ask for our help to tell us we are incorrect. Then I thought of my Mom, and how she, being the stubborn woman that she is, would probably do the same to practically anyone especially me. It was enlightening to see myself connect with a total stranger for brief moment, whilst having her wish me a safe travel home from Baruch. I later got off at City Hall, and looked to the left seeing the World Trade Center close by, and wondered if she made it to her destination safely.

This is the street I walk every morning and night as part of my daily commute.  I have enjoyed this snippet of my life because it is where I take a walk with my thoughts and gain insight on how I feel about myself. I know with every step forward I am so much closer to the arms of my home and the confines of my bed sheets.