Background: I stumbled across “the piano” on my bikeride to work. It was just sitting under the Brooklyn Bridge BEGGING for photos to be taken of it. So I obliged the piano as it spoke to me and said “come closer Lauren, closer. Look at me, look at ME.”
I took some pictures, stared at it for about five minutes and then left.
Even though I left the piano, the piano didn’t leave me. I couldn’t stop thinking about it and why it was there. Did It float down the river and land there? Did someone put it there? Was the the piano even real??????
Later that day on my ride home, I stopped by again. It was like seeing an old friend. But now my friend was drowning from the high tide. I tried to look away, I couldn’t bear to see it in this condition, but like all classic piano-in-the-river cases, I couldn’t keep my eyes away for too long. I took more pictures, stayed for a while, and left.
But once again, the piano left me wanting more. I tossed and turned all night, wondering about the piano. Was it OK? Was it warm? Was it even still there?!? A full day passed and I went without visiting my, I mean, our piano.
I returned again this morning. It was still there. That’s when I realized I wasn’t just a viewer anymore, the piano was a part of me. The piano and I would be connected for life. I needed to touch it. So I did touch it, and turns out the damn thing doesn’t even work, LAMEEEEEEEE. But you know, it’s not really about whether it works or not because as they say, you can take the girl out of the piano, but you can’t take the piano out of the girl.
Anywho, I walked away again, but not before one last photo of the piano under the bridge in the east river.
The piano and my shitty photography.
Please go and visit the piano and give it the love it needs, it’s under the Brooklyn Bridge in the east river on the Manhattan side.