Sunday, 01 September 2002 | Hair

I've been thinking about cutting my hair lately, been looking at borrowed magazines and eyeing people on the subway. Yesterday at PS1 I slyly took pictures of a few people whose hair I liked; my friend Lisa would stand near each person so that it would look like I was taking a picture of her (rather than the true subject of the photo), and I would sneak a shot. I haven't gotten the pictures back yet, but I think this haircut I found in a magazine last week is still my first choice.

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Today on the subway: a spiky-haired Japanese kid let me share his metro card and revolving metal door when my card repeatedly (and incorrectly) refused me; I watched (along with dozens of other people) as several guys break danced in a crowded station; I gave some change to a man who could play Beethoven on the guitar and immediately regretted not having given him more; a rough-looking man with a voice like gravel asked me Do you speak English? then asked me Parlez-vous français? then asked me Do you speak English? and kept repeating himself in that cycle until I got off the train. (I just kept quietly shaking my head no.) I don't miss driving.