“There is something in the New York air that makes sleep useless.” Simone De Beauvoir
New York. Hm. I grew up in New Jersey but hardly ever crossed the boarder except for Broadway plays and some serious ice skating. I saw all this from large child-like eyes of wonder but never had the chance to go back because my family was always moving. I never was able to absorb the culture from New York, to soak it all in. Luckily, opposed to contrary belief, I did find culture in many cities in the U.S. and around the world. I bounced around a lot, and am doing another bounce. Why not? People I love, friends I trust, and art that inspires is in this squishy city.
After speaking to a multiple friends they tell me…you are ready. The reasoning was simple:
- I am fixated on fashion, art, literature, and music.
- I am moving to the LES
- My go-to shorts are all leather
- I really love my jean jacket
- I doubly love all my leather jackets
- Long hair don’t care
- You are chic grunge
- I chose to dance down the street with my iPod on, yes it’s a nano and I hook it into my shorts
- Talking to 90 year olds makes me feel wiser, so I make lots of friends quite quickly
- I have no problem selling everything but my body to move to this city of ants
- Does anything scare you? You would win survivor.
- I like minimalism and that’s necessary because there’s no way my whole wardrobe is coming with me
- I cannot picture you anywhere but there
New York is the easiest city to be lost in, but I have a very strange feeling this is where I will find myself (hopefully not face down in a ditch).
Everything in New York is a photograph. All the things that are supposed to be dirty or rough or unrefined are the most beautiful things. Garbage cans at the ends of alleyways look like they’ve been up all night talking with each other. Doorways with peeling paint look like the wise lines around an old feller’s eyes. I stop and stare but can’t stay because men always think I’m selling something. Or worse, giving something away. I wish I could be invisible. Or at least I wish I didn’t look like someone they want to look at. They stop being part of the picture, they get up from their chess game and come out of the frame at me, blocking my view.
― Ann-Marie MacDonald, Fall on Your Knees