Every safari begins before dawn. One has to prepare for the unknown. So I begin before dawn, a rough beginning:
In the week leading up to my visit to Westbeth, I lost my job (again), a block away from where my wife and I raise our two year old son a young man was murdered (again), and we were robbed (again). This time, the thief took my bicycle. I made it out of bamboo, built it by hand. One would think that such a start to a safari might be a bad omen. Maybe it would have stopped some from going. But since losing my job, I spend my days with my son and I’ve got to live the maxim I teach. I take losses as events not obstacles in my chance to live and love.
So off with a kiss for my wife and son I went, taking the train instead of riding my bicycle into the city, my heart a little broken that I wouldn’t see the sun setting as I pedaled across the Brooklyn Bridge.