People who stare -
On the subway - once upon a time every minute was precious, a thirteen minute ride offered time to study for an exam,
to read a chapter, to figure out the harmonies of a piece I'm playing.
And there were those who stare, into the distance, searching, or with problems they couldn't figure out at home.
Now there is an army of phones, each offering pre-occupation to its owner. On a good day, I write emails. Others play bejeweled, and others zone out to music.
And there are those who stare, looking for a solution to a problem, numb, maybe hoping it will come as the cars shake.
Sometimes I am now one who stares. The problems are too big. The solution is elusive, if it exists.
For example: is there a way around the trade-off, of an affordable apartment with space and sunlight, and riding this goddamn subway for almost more hours than I practice violin in my apartment with space and sunlight?