The Universe

In my quest for the spiritual center of New York city (some might call it a vortex), I went out last night on the 6 train and headed downtown not sure where I was going. I had my trusty M3 and a tripod with me. The train was crowded at 9 p.m. I tried to get a feel for where I was headed.

Maybe I'd go way downtown on a downtown train. Maybe Chinatown. I've never photographed Chinatown at night. Oh, Chinatown isnt' the center of anything. The center of the New York Universe is Times Square. Face it. Glitter. Shows. Tourists. Sales. Recruiting station. Police station. And giga-video displays. The tourist know where the center of the city is.

And so I hop off the 6 train at Grand Central. How grand it is. And then hop on the shuttle and in two shakes of a New Yorkers tail I'm in the hub, the center, the spiritual swirl of New York City.

And guess what? I'm standing in the exact center of the New York Universe, when a small video crew arrives with two models. Gawd, I think, they're making them skinny. It's cold out and I'm edging back when one of the crew says to me - "she's worth a picture or two."

So I get closer and sure enough, the tall skinny one is beautiful. The videographer is swirling around her as she walks back and forth in the hub of our universe. I take a couple of shots of her.

Who is she, I ask the guy.

She's Miss Universe - he says.

And sure enough - turns out she is the reigning Miss Universe.

Not Miss America. Not Miss New York. Miss queen of everything known to exist. Queen of the whole Universe (assuming there is only one universe, but when she flashed me a 100-megawatt smile she was brighter than all of Times Square and I knew that for one year she was in charge of things and would do her best to calm an anxious world).

And so there you have it. I have not only arrived at the center of the New York universe, but been greeted with an incarnation of same as well. Film at 11. All times are approximate.