Saying Goodbye to Apartments

I’ve lived the longest on my own in the apartment building we’re about to leave in Brooklyn. It’s been almost four years in one building, crazily enough. Four years back in New York City. I’m happy to have been here and happy to move somewhere else, to buck the nostalgia people always cling to when leaving phases in life.

In my packing, I found this sketch from one of my 2015 sketchbooks. It was the year I decided to start making art again, not really caring why or how. I’m so glad I did because it brings me so much joy outside of the hot subway commute of working life in the city.

We brought both of these bookshelves to the basement a day or two ago. We found them first on the streets of Brookline when we were living in Boston. In the two apartments in this one building I kept the shelves organized about the same way in each. Funny how I repeat life patterns. It’s a bit freeing though to realize they’re old and musty, that we don’t have to keep just so many books.

Our super arranged the boxes upon boxes of books we got rid of into a free library in our laundry room basement. That made me a smile a bit and feel less like I was throwing away good reading material. My New York Times Cookbook was already snatched up by the time I returned to the basement. People are less interested in the literary and cultural theory textbooks with the used label I’ve kept way too long. Ah, ghosts of a liberal arts youth!

I’m keeping the vintage globe because a girl has got to keep some whimsy in her life, and the painting my mother did of a picture I took in France and the ye olde time looking radio. My terrarium died, of course. I’ve got no green thumb, but I’ll keep trying. I’m thinking: ferns!

I’m keeping books that have a sentimental value to me and letting go of the rest. Oh and my fruit bowl, that will live on. I love an apple a day.

I know I’ll be back to Brooklyn, maybe not to the exact spot I’ve lived in for four years, so I don’t feel any kind of fear of leaving. It’s easier to romanticize the past or the way things are than to embrace the change of the current and the future. I am so ready for getting older and moving on with whatever happens along the way.

Recently I told a last-year-of-teenage-dom teenager that every year we are dying so why fear change. She asked me if I was always 65 years old. The answer is yes, yes I have always been.

Here’s to moving back to Manhattan, where I haven’t lived since I was a college kid in 2007.

Sketching St. John Divine

I started working uptown this past spring on both a whim and a planned expedition in changing.  And I mean, actually uptown and not just above the corridor of favored lower Manhattan offices. I mean the uptown of that-certain-university in Morningside Heights.

At first I thought, well this will be the commute, when considering the working life up here. But after a few meandering walks around the campus, and down Broadway into the the west nineties, I was sure it was the right change. I kept thinking during the walks about those essays about leaving New York, those inflated ideas of New York we grab onto.

Morningside Heights is also full of charm, students, bookstores, and slower cafes than those downtown. It is most notably to me home to the looming neo-gothic glory of the Cathedral of St. John Divine. Every time I rest on it’s steps, or venture inside for a moment in its cavernous-like interior, I feel the pangs of a long lost crush on Joan Didion. Just this past week I was remembering how I clung to her narrative for a long time but that now I feel a natural distance from her detached prose. I kept her books when cleaning my apartment for the move uptown still. Either it was sentimental or silly, I don’t know.  I know she too felt a particular connection to the cathedral, though, the way it witnessed ups and downs in her life. 

When I’m walking up Morningside Drive in the morning arching my way onto the campus, I always stare up at the Cathedral’s spires, feeling a bit like I’m coming around to the beginning of a life in New York. The church is always inspiring me to sketch, to look at it from a side street, in awe of it’s giant prowess in such a small beautiful neighborhood. 

Maybe I’ll join the ranks of those wistfully thinking about loving and leaving New York from this iconic neighborhood or maybe i’ll just mark this as another part of the journey.  I’m happy to entertain my own version of Goodbye To All That even if I’m thinking right at this moment that I never want to be so far away I can’t still get lost in the giants of Manhattan’s avenues.  Of course, that gracious feeling I have walking around is more often than not buttressed by finding myself crammed into a hot and sticky heatwave subway car or watching a pigeon eat my fallen slice of pizza on the street.

I wouldn’t change it, though. 

Cathedral of St John Divine.
1047 Amsterdam Ave,
New York, NY 10025

It’s worth taking a tour around the inside of the Cathedral. So many artists have had a part in shaping the vision of the church in the 21st century, and it’s mission to serve the diverse people of the city.There’s a Keith Herring Triptych inside as well. It’s one of the oldest buildings in the New York!