Category: New York City

WTHIB: the where-the-heck-i’ve-been edition

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I went to Long Island City, incredible waterfront views of Manhattan abound…

[click to view larger]

My fantastic fellow North Dakotan friend Mitch came to visit from LA, and we enjoyed delicious crêpes at
the delightful Café Henri in Long Island City

I went to DUMBO — Down Under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass
Mitch & Chi in DUMBO
Chi’s the best
Adam came to visit — always a welcomed visitor
I saw the hilarious David Sedaris perform a reading at BAM in Brooklyn
I went to the Project Runway-famed Mood Fabrics in the Garment district, where I was super inspired by all of the
patterns, textures, colors and kinds of fabric.
Finally — I WENT BLONDE.

• • • • •
Time for a much-needed weekend!
xo
j

room

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I want to share something bittersweet that recently happened in my life. Several days ago I moved, but not far. I loaded my arms with my belongings and settled in a new room across the hall, after a roommate moved out.

I had written about my former room way back in January, two weeks into my stay in New York. The room was very stark, but such a beautiful place to me. It meant so much and I know that no one could ever look at it the same or understand the significance. It contains my feelings and a period of my life that cannot be described.

In my old room, I was a guest and a traveler ready to uproot. My possessions were scarce enough to pack my suitcase and return to where I came from if things didn’t work out. I slept on a cot for those three and a half months, my toes dangling over the edge and four inches of mattress below me. Yet I hardly noticed what I didn’t have; I had a room, and that was what I needed most.

Each morning, and again in the evening I would walk through the door. I was met by a window that faced the street, my outlet to the sidewalks and neighbors of Prospect Place and all the goings-on below. It was my window, in my room, and the light that came from it, too, was my light. I loved the feeling of ownership that came with the 7.5′ x 12.5′ space — they were my 94 square feet in Brooklyn, New York. No one else’s, no where else, but I would share every inch with any visitor, I was so proud.

Looking in to my first room, now empty.
Looking out of my first room.
My first room from the doorway.
• • • • •

My new room is beautiful, but in a different way. It is not my first room in Brooklyn, and it feels heavier— as though I bear an anchor to this room, and will stay in this place for some time. A full size bed is snug in a corner, with a wardrobe opposite that teems with my belongings. I am growing here in every sense. The window no longer overlooks the street, but instead faces the brick wall of an adjacent building. There is still light — my light, that I wake up to every morning, well-rested, my first thought always, “My, this is nice…”

xo
j
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Today was about light + shadow. With the sun sweating 80+ degrees on the city, it was a warm scene blaring with a coat of sunshine.

I enjoy trying to capture the quiet of New York. I’ve found photographs to be an outlet, because I haven’t yet discovered a quiet place. A photograph can take the noisiest scene and make it calm through light, color or context.

These five photographs from today represent a progression in moments where I was able to block out everything and feel silence.

isn’t it funny

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Still life, Kitchen. 15 April 2012.

When I was in high school, I ate lunch with the same friends, at the same table every day. One day I said aloud to my friends, “Isn’t it funny how we  do this every day? How did this happen?” The act of school lunch suddenly seemed illogical. In a moment, my mind thin sliced each component of the situation: Bland food. Restrictive plastic trays. Weird Tables. Cinder block walls. Time constraints. It felt necessary to question, if only for a moment, to wonder how?

My friends made fun of me for years for asking that question. Of course, there was no right or wrong answer — I was looking for a reaction, that someone else, too, felt that this instance was a tangent of natural life. It became clear that day, and everything felt so unusual. People eating the exact same cafeteria foods, on the same narrow benches, during the same 30-minute time slot, five days a week. We’d all been doing it for so long, that no one took a moment to recognize what was happening. What was happening?

This feeling — this dissection of particular gatherings — comes increasingly often. On the train, or in any public space, there is an abundance of constituents to each situation that it’s hard to ignore being amongst them. Bells. Taxis. Sirens.     The    lines    of     a     crosswalk,      then peo p le crossingthec ros s wa lk. The smell of food. Tourists taking pictures. Crying children. Storefronts. Garbage. Bodily fluids. Limousines. LCDs. Cupcakes! The scene spins. Life moves, constituted of the events and ideas orbiting around a person at any given time, external and internal, however they choose to permit effect. I can’t help but notice that the hundreds, if not thousands, of people I cross every day are affecting me.

Isn’t it funny how we are all living on this peninsula? How did this happen?


With a burst of realization, I understand what’s happening. Every race. Every language. Everything. Everywhere. How did this happen?  I decide I don’t understand what’s happening. I jump on the train home. Music, silence, two strangers on either side, hips pressed to mine, and the da-da-da-da-da-da on the tracks as I ride over the river in a great steel box, onward, every day, onward.

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Happy weekend, everyone! I’ve been having a good time showing my apartment to prospective roommates, as we are currently in the market for one. I’ve met some amazing women, several of them in the same situation I was when I moved here. I wish I could help all of them!

Seeing people looking for a place to live has really made me understand how lucky I am to be here. I had 60 people respond to the ad I posted for the room, and managed to dwindle it down to seven ladies. Many of the women I met today have been exhausted from looking at dirty, sketchy, unsatisfying apartments. I was so fortunate to walk into my living situation — sight unseen — and have things turn out completely wonderful. It was all the outcome of trust. The woman that let me have her room trusted me, despite not meeting me. In turn I trusted that she would provide me with a safe, healthy environment, despite never seeing the apartment. I didn’t have to see a single dodgy apartment. I didn’t have to schlep around town. I simply trusted, and she simply sensed that I urgently needed a place to live because she, too, had been in my situation. I count my blessings every day.

I have been helped so much in my journey during the past three and a half months. I cannot wait to pay it forward, to give someone the feeling that I’m experiencing.

Best,
j

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Two things that I’ve found great pleasure in New York are first, the things that New Yorkers say and second, how they dress themselves. If it weren’t so unproductive, I could sit at a window for an entire day and never become bored with the fashion of passerby. 
A favorite thing about the New York dresser is how practicality meets sophistication, effortlessly. In their bustle, women still wear heels, cropped blazers, and use functional handbags  — a busy lifestyle that even myself might at times surrender to comfort over fashion. Thinking of a daily walk to the train in heels is daunting, let alone standing all day in them. Embraced is the phrase, “Beauty is pain,” and even if New York women are pained by their fashion, they certainly don’t show it.
The city is a dirty, hurried place, which is why I find all the more fascination in women’s wear. This city is too big to blend in, so the streets are filled with all cuts and colors of fabrics, patterns and fluidity of movement. Here are a few styles I’ve noticed around the streets as Spring shines on the city:
01 / Maxi skirts, like this Skirt Volare by Mango
02 / Satchel bags, such as this Upwardly Mobile Satchel by The Cambridge Satchel Company from Modcloth
03 / Cool shades like these Hope Sunglasses from monki.com
04 / Bright scarves like Modcloth’s Back in a Splash print
05 / Neon! Like Rag & Bone’s Neon Yellow Legging
06 / Leather jackets, Longline Leather Biker from Top Shop
07 / Chunky sandals, like Madewell’s High Road Sandal
best,
jc

super saturday : the botanic garden edition

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I love me a good Saturday. Sleeping in (until 8:30), some greasy eggs over-easy, and a completely directionless afternoon are exactly what I yearn for. Yesterday I was excited to wake up, and even though I didn’t have plans, I knew my feet would take me somewhere special.
I started walking in the same direction that I always do, and I’m glad I did. Fate brought two confused Asian tourists my direction looking for the Brooklyn Botanic Garden, and when I realized we were all just a stone’s throw away from it, I decided to check it out for myself.
Wow. Wow wow wow wow. I never thought that a city could squeeze in such a natural attraction, but it was the most incredible escape from the concrete and skyscrapers that surround me on a daily basis. The garden was sprawling — it took me a good hour to make a round through, and I didn’t even venture onto a fraction of the offshoot paths. Each direction led to beautiful surprises —herb gardens, ponds, fountains, blossoming trees and conservatories. Seeing thick patches of grass brought a smile to my face. 
It was a peaceful walk, and a very reflective experience. It made me wish I could walk with all the people I love, like so many around me. It made me think of my mom, grandmother, and aunts, all who would have enjoyed the great gardens and scenery. And it reminded me that I am in this place for a reason — for whatever reason, I have yet to learn, but it exists.
Some days are easier than others. Those ‘others’ are the days I wonder what on earth I’m doing, and sometimes the only answer is I’m being young and growing up. 
  
 
best,
jc