Central Park, New York City

© Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved

People watching could be a vocation in New York City. Perhaps it was me in my frivolous, globetrotting euphoria but it just seemed like everyone that my eyes touched in New York City was telling a story. I was intrigued by the plethora of personalities that were instantly accessible to me, so much of their character seemingly effortlessly revealed in their dress and their mannerisms. I revelled in the eclectic offering of locals (or at least people who were obviously accustomed to urban life) and watched curiously as they weaved their way in and out of their errands and their inclinations...some of my favourites:

In Madison Square Park, my attention is abducted by a bohemian explosion of bright orange bandana-embraced hair that grazes the waistband of a belted pair of faded bluejeans. She is wearing a rose-adorned fitted shirt, her long fingers grasping a braided leash leading a white, wiry dog that stands no taller than the top of her brown canvas high-top sneakers. At the end of her other hand, walks a girl amidst a cascade of blond hair and an earth-friendly tote bag with the words "Save Japan" stamped at its hem. Her flowing blue and white frock makes her the perfect complement to her partner, and yet I decided, from observing their casual intimacy, that more intricate complements existed between them than are visible today in the park.

In Union Square Park, an oversized Gucci sachel weighs heavily, but apparently unintrusively, on the slim, silver-bangled arm of an art collector. Okay, I don't really know whether or not she is an art collector. Perhaps she is a bath product entrepreneur browsing the visual supermarket for something new to frame and hang in the guest room of her elegant Fifth Avenue condo. Sunglasses perched patiently on top of her long, multi-toned locks, she casually browses through a stack of shrinkwrapped paintings that are leaning in a canvas cradle at the park's art fair. She is contemplating every single image and seems intent on buying it before flipping to the next creation and starting the process all over again.

In Washington Square Park, a man wearing Asics and a fedora is dwarfed by the marble arch overhead as his fingers expertly scurry along the well-used keys of his beloved piano. There is a reclaimed meat bucket sitting to his left and to his right with the hopes of collecting revenue from his efforts and a decal on the side of the piano reads "Manhattan Mini Storage". Some of the passersby are indifferent to his talent and his tenacity, but some pause briefly to listen and some even give him monetary appreciation. But two students in particular seemed to have allowed his melodies to affect their afternoon and have claimed a spot on the white tiles, swaying slowly beside him with their arms wrapped around one another.

Tucked in between two pillars on Broadway Street, one person is barely visible at all, his (or her) cream coloured hoodie and grey pants all but blending in to the surrounding cement.

© Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved