Soho, Lower Manhattan, NY

I spent most of my time in Lower Manhattan when I participated in a film-scoring summer program at NYU. During lunch breaks we would head to Washington Square Park to hang out, since it was only a two-minute walk away. It was always full of characters and surprises. I would often wander over to where the jazz music was playing, but on one occasion as I got closer to the performers I suddenly recognised that the saxophone player was my friend Abraham from College. 'What on earth are you doing here in New York?!', I asked/squealed. He just so happens to be performing at the summer jazz festival a few blocks down from the park that evening. What are the chances. You bump into someone all the way from London to NYC. Cray. 

Later that week, we saw an actor dancing inside the fountain in slow motion. His body was painted entirely in white, with the smallest cloth covering his private parts. I carried on deconstructing my severely dry sandwich, which probably costed me $12, whilst he whisked us away with his silent performance. Soon after, a young chap walked past us wearing a cardboard box that advertised free improvised poetry to anyone who fancied it. I'm sorry, but why don't we have that in London? On my way out, I stopped to chat with a lady named Judy since I was fascinated by the scene. She was the ultimate pigeon whisperer who names the pigeons that come to her. She proceeded to tell me her history of feeding pigeons here at Washington Square Park since the 80's. She also apologised for a particular pigeon who was apparently a bit feisty that day. 

Man, I love New York.

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