Paola Minekov

As a young girl from Bulgaria, a former communist country, I had something of a love affair with New York City, or the idea of moving there one day, anyway. The city's streets, smell, the people, the insane energy, everything about it, fascinated me. I had spent a month there as a teenager and had enjoyed every second.

 

On September 11 2001, I was living in Israel, and working in an art materials shop called Arta in central Tel Aviv. It was a warm summer day, and I remember I was wearing a frilly dress due to the heat. The morning had been slow and I was idly serving customers and selling paints to the occasional artist walking into the shop. Meeting other artists (and the employee discount on art materials) was one of the reasons this felt like a perfect job for a young artist like me. Suddenly, a British friend of mine walked into the shop and told me about the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center in New York. Initially, I didn't believe him. He had a somewhat strange sense of humour and this news just seemed too surreal. I honestly thought it was a sick joke. However when I turned on the radio, the news confirmed the shocking event.

 

Coincidentally, my grandmother was visiting her sister in New York at that time. I frantically tried to call her and my uncle, but the lines were down, and communication was impossible. Everyone around me was shocked and deeply saddened, as many people in Israel have family in New York… and tbh, the scale of the attack was unimaginable even for a battered country like Israel. If I remember correctly, it took at least 24 hours before I could finally speak to my uncle, who assured me that they were all safe. During this period, I was in constant communication with my mother back in Bulgaria, who was extremely worried.

 

That day the world changed forever, even for someone like me who had already experienced events like the end of communism and the insane transition my country went through. Until then travelling had been relatively simple. Something my generation took for granted, in the western world anyway… Previously, flying had been a bit like taking a bus. I remember going on a holiday to Eilat and rocking at the airport half before my flight took off, but suddenly you couldn’t even take a bottle of water on board... I have visited New York since then but I never went to Ground Zero, as I prefer to remember the city through a different lens.

 

The painting above depicts a unique perspective of New York, showcasing the towering skyscrapers and the city's overwhelming scale. While New York remains an amazing place to visit, I no longer want to live there, as my perception of the city has evolved over time and the UK is my home now.