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  • Can you love a city?

    Really love it, the way you love a person?

    Need it, get crazy if you do not see it, need to be near it, close, to smell its fragrance, its garbage divine, its sea salt, to smell its humidity, to see your hair frizz in the mirror, and feel its blue cast on everything?

    And really need that, like a new love, like an instant crush, like love at first taxi entry...?

    Can you fall in love with a city, the way you fall in love with your forever true love, just at the moment of entry, at the earliest of eye procession?

    Coming down the escalator in the airport, can you sense it already? The palm trees in the airport, the glass reflecting a certain Mediterranean light...what are the memories of first light in the eye of the burg?

    When you look back, at what moment, at what point in, in the taxi ride, for the first time, did you know? Or is it, at first love, just absorption, are we all photographers, at first love? Yes, just that distance, yes just that light, yes it was that weather and not the other, it was that time of day, it was night, it was day, it was the blue hour, it was evening. It was that sector, and not the other. It was that colour blue, on that tiny street, on those chairs.

    Do we re-pose cities like we do humans, like Jimmy Stewart posing Kim Novak, in "Vertigo," in just that dove-grey suit, and just that shade of platinum hair, and just that curl at the back of the neck?

    Yes. Yes, we do. I did.

    I fell for Barcelona, that way. I knew nothing about her, in advance. It is grand to know nothing, to chance to see a breathing being, like kismet or fate, or just one-of-those-happenstance days.

    And then it comes over you: low in the back taxi seat, the city rolls past you, as if it is moving, and you are still. And it is moving.

    It is moving into your heart.

    It is first love, of the urban kind, and there is nothing you can do.

    Sit back and enjoy the ride. It is going to be some kind of a love lifetime, sister.
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