When things get overwhelming, I try to step back and take a brief break. The other night, as I was trying to clear my mind, I walked through most of Chelsea before having to pause and wait for the light to change in my favor. I looked past the group of tourists that were arguing next to me and toward the legendary Chelsea Hotel. A tall woman with unruly hair stood in front of me. I paused to imagine what her face might look like. I was stepping forward to confirm my assumptions when she turned around. She held a camera. I tried to determine the model long before I looked up at her face. Unexpectedly, she had a strong jawline and a sort of haggard beauty about her. She seemed to be looking right through me. The light changed and we went our separate ways. I suppose that’s the beauty of this city - you can exchange a few intimate moments with a complete stranger before the interaction evaporates just as quickly as it appears.
The next morning when this article about Annie Leibovitz shredded through the web, I was almost positive that the woman with the sad eyes and untamed hair had been her.
