Feldman, Lee. “Silent Movies.”
Musician February 1998
Sometimes I walk slowly down crowded streets and avenues. I mean really slowly; people pass by like I’m a ghost. After a few minutes, I feel like I’m living out of time. The movie playing in my head—how I’m going to be so famous that everyone who dislikes me will be permanently embarrassed (for example) -- begins to fade. I start to feel good. I’m now walking slowly enough so that I can see minute variations in the mortar between bricks. After twenty feet (twenty seconds) or so, I might look straight ahead. An abandoned plastic bag is spinning in an interesting pattern, like a human trying to fly.
I cross the street and an old lady not much higher than her walker passes me on the left. The determination it takes just to live a life becomes clear for a moment.