my bud keerthi and i broke the silence of spring break day 1 by traversing to the bronx for a romantic getaway at the new york botanical gardens. i can't relay what keerthi had in mind, but i was envisioning photos of youthfulness of girl juxtaposed with the fresh blossoms of orchids and green all around. the whimsical waves in my hair would match the wistful shapes of leaves and flower petals. but lo and behold, the gardens were closed.
as soon as we found that out, we looked at each other, thought about what we just realized, and start laughing and cackling, our demise echoed in the form of our laughter was the only thing in the air mingled with a biting cold that made my feet feel numb and wet even though they weren't.
however, i like to think that when something devastating occurs, magic is under the works and fate is only about lay some real good shi* down and turn things around. we considered options to visit, the library? sounds dumb. so, no.what did yelp say? apparently a hot local spot is called "ok mr. poncho" that sounded ridiculous and irrelevant, so, no.
then i realized fordham university was right near by, so we walked over, and surprisingly easily stepped onto campus and into academic buildings without anyone questioning us. but why am i surprised, i was wearing a backpack and i'm not even five feet tall and we were coming from a trip (hypothetically) from the gardens. we brought no harm, and i'm glad people could smell that.
in one of the buzzing academic buildings, a divine light shone upon us (pictured in above photos). so thanks to the jesuit goodness of the architecture, we found plenty of space for fruitful photo jam sessions while real fordham kids were in class. not pictured here: many awkward moments of me trying to pretend i was neither posing for photos nor wearing unusual pink floral tights as students uniform in sweatshirts and jeans walked to class.
some background as to what i'm feeling in these photos: collegiate, worn out whimsy, maybe a modern academic juliet who feels a sense of loss and longing in her singular, isolated world. she is a little out of place, a little out of mind, and a little out of love. but still living her own individual fate.