Technically, Friday started with the beautiful, quiet dawn outside my window and me wanting to go out and conquer it atop the Empire State Building. Luckily, reality got the better of me and I stole a couple of hours sleep before a meeting with TUSA. Went to the UN and checked out a killer photography exhibit by Phil Borges, then back to MoMA to review the works of Picasso, Mondrian, Monet and friends. Yum. Dinner in Tribeca at Viet Cafe, dessert around the corner at Mai House, then I took a dozen guests (artists and journos) over to the East Village to Orchid Lounge and China 1 - Tiger rocks. As the hardcore crew dwindled, two triple pees stood up and we rocked back to the Meatpacking District, got a tip from a homeless dude, and found ourselves getting jiggy with it in a hot NYC club. Mental note: if you put your drink down, someone will take it away. Somehow, walking along the cold streets with eyes bright in the early morning, I felt that my heart was beating in rhythm with the city's pulse. My energy wasn't coming from sleep, it was coming from the city itself.
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