Brooklyn is Mine

It's Sunday afternoon. Sini and Melissa have left for the week (they live part-time upstate) and Mark is out of town for the long weekend. Memorial Day marks the unofficial start of summer and the city is finally succumbing to that delicious tropical humidity which will dominate the upcoming months. Girls have their bare shoulders and hoochy shorts out on the street, guys are cat-calling and smiling, folks are sitting on their stoops, music is blaring, cafes are putting out sidewalk tables. Yup, summer is definitely brewing in BK. In a month or two people will grumble about being too hot but right now they're happy to pack away their woollens and feel that sun.

I woke up this morning with an eye infection that is making me move more quietly and soberly than my usual buzzy, hummingbird self. I look like someone's socked me a good one! My discomfort and vanity has prevented me from leaving the apartment today, even though the sun is gloriously strong and I was supposed to work this evening. Everyone needs a day of rest and I have been really struggling to make that happen in this frenetic (but happy) new life I've carved for myself. But today is that day! Although I'm operating with pirate vision it feels good to be at home, alone, doin my thing, contented.


Our apartment is a dream. Although we don't have any furniture yet, somehow it already feels super homely (or "homey" as they say in America. "Homely" actually means ugly here!) Not having a table or chairs is redeemed by the view of a church garden and ivy-covered brick wall through our kitchen windows. Mark and I have also started a collection of indoor plants which makes the emptiness of the apartment seem light, airy and peaceful. Most importantly, our kitchen is always full of snacks! (We always have chocolate biscuits!)

Leah just gave me a drafting table so this morning I christened it by sewing a bunch of hems and cutting up t-shirts. I made a salad for lunch and then woke up a skin tone darker after napping under the window. The afternoon light stretches deep and beautiful across my room, long into the evening. I can see downtown Brooklyn through the fire escape, the gilded dome clocktower marking the minutes to sunset which these days is well after 8pm.


In a month I will have survived my first year in New York City, which many say is the hardest one. It has been everything; both marvellous and treacherous. I got my US work visa and dream job, I fell in and out of love, I moved a hundred times, I started a studio internship, I went back to San Francisco, and then Canada, and even Australia!, and after a battle finally moved into my very own home. Wow. People ask me, "How can you live like this?" The fluctuations, the unknown curves and slopes, the uncertainty of the years ahead. Ain't that just the way to live? I feel intensely connected to every element of my life: every decision I make is fully my own, every consequence designed just for me. I appreciate the energy, tension and fervour of each week, the elevation of the senses, the awareness of time and how short it can be. Life is dynamic, passionate. I'm constantly finding windows to climb out of, and new ones to climb into. These days I take nothing for granted. I wake up at 7 each morning with great purpose and intent. I think of everyone I've met and wish upon them this same richness, this fullness. After all, what is more important than the occupation of living?