Stacy Horn

First I get the loveliest email from Sara McKay, the director of the Saint Peter Choral Society, and then this! Anyone who knows me knows that a book of photographs about animal rehabilitation is pretty much the perfect Stacy present. When I opened it up and saw all the signatures inside I burst into tears. I can’t tell you how moved I was. This is just further proof that choir people are the nicest people on earth. And proof that singing builds community and spreads goodwill.

I can’t wait to read this and look at the photographs. Thank you from the bottom of my heart Sara and all the members of the Saint Peter Choral Society, and thank you to Dr. Hayden Duncan, the choir member who retyped all the text in the book (because it’s small and hard to read)! You will never know how happy your precious gift has made me.

I spotted this vial on the street the other day. I remembered the 1980’s, when I’d walk out of my apartment in the morning, on my way to work, and the street would be littered with crack vials like this. It was an insane time. An average of 1,685 people were murdered a year then, peaking in 1990, when 2,245 were murdered. The crack epidemic is always blamed for these murder rates except I just looked at the 1970’s. An average of 1,556 were murdered every year in that decade. So it was already really bad. If crack was responsible for the rise it was not a big rise, murder rates were already high!

I’m guessing this vial didn’t hold crack. Maybe a perfume sample?

None of my pictures adequately conveys how many people were here and are still out there as I type. I know because helicopters keep buzzing by. Also, for some reason my camera was set to the wrong setting when I shot movies so I had to trash all those.

But it was great to see the incredible diversity. I was tweeting about how many kids were there, alongside people who were carrying signs like, “I’ve been marching for 50 years.”

Note: I wish I had said this at the time, but I am not comfortable with the wording in this sign. I think biases exist but unfortunately, I think that they are often unconscious and people won’t be reached with this kind of rhetoric. That said, we will all be better off when all areas of power are populated by equal percentages of race, religion (including atheists and agnostics) and gender.

The march began in Washington Square. Here, people have assumed the “Hands up Don’t Shoot” position. For the record, I’m kinda tired of “This is what democracy looks like.” Also, democracy has a lot of looks.

Those are Eric Garner’s eyes. The sign reads, “Real thugs wear flag pins.” Yeah, the tyranny of the flag pin. It’s become a bullying thing.

A sign of support in the window of the New School.

I also keep forgetting to change the setting of my camera when I’m trying to get action shots.

I often caught myself smiling and then I thought it wasn’t appropriate to smile, but I was so glad to see so much support. So I like her smile. Here’s to the people who are still out there.

This picture doesn’t communicate the sheer immensity of this crane, but what I was trying to take a picture of was the Christmas lights someone strung along the arm. Even though it’s there to do a terrible thing, to erect luxury housing in place of a much needed hospital in my neighborhood, I love that someone put up those Christmas lights.

This weekend is going to be a busy weekend. The Loser’s Lounge tonight, the Millions March tomorrow, where hopefully I won’t be among the arrested. I was just thinking that one of the good things about protesting in a dense, urban area is they don’t throw tear gas canisters at us. Too many bystanders.

Santacon is happening the same day, which is the absolute worst timing. Santacon has become a hated thing because the Santas get too drunk and disorderly, throwing up all over the place, acting like jerks. But I only see them early in the day, while they’re still relatively sober. For me it’s still fun to see packs of roaming Santas all over the place. It’s unfortunate timing though, to have two large groups out and about at the same time, one so serious and one so not.

I came across this picture and it made me a little sad. This never happens anymore. Bleeck still adores and wants to play with Finney, but he’s too rough about it and Finney has decided he doesn’t want Bleecker anywhere near him. That said, wherever Finney is Bleecker is nearby, trying to get closer. Sometimes Finney lets Bleecker sleep within inches of him.