Elote Under The 7 Train, or My New York City Dream

✍️ 🕑 Primarily February 2020 • Series: My Days in New York City • Tags: queensairbnbthings to feel nostalgic for

View from an elevated train in Astoria (July 2021)
View from an elevated train in Astoria (July 2021)

I started writing this contemporaneously, i.e., while I was crashing in weird airbnb's in Queens in early 2020. In a time when I didn't yet wish to share that I was planning to leave New York City. In a time when I was loving it more and more.

It has since been revised for clarity, readability, and parenthetical asides about death and tragedies. Y'know, the stuff of our present historic moment.

So, this then, is the New York City that I love...

52 Frames (January 2022)

✍️ 🕑 January 2022 • Series: 52 Frames • Tags: sunsetsbeach photosvintage carscovid-19

So begins another year of weekly photographic challenges, which I intend to keep doing on a week-by-week basis for as long as I can keep it up, or am motivated to do so.

A few of these are similar to some challenges from last year, and in my opinion, I have bested myself at nearly every turn. 😊

Let's see if you agree!

Why You Hate the Upper West Side

✍️ 🕑 2019 through early 2020 • Series: My Days in New York City • Places: Whispers Bar

I wrote this post a fair while ago (2020), as part of an elegy to my stint in New York City.
It is part of my answer to the age old question, ‘How could you leave New York?’ (pandemic notwithstanding)

Average representation of the UWS (northerly bits)
Average representation of the UWS (northerly bits)

You stop to catch your breath inside the shoebox you call “a New York City apartment,” arriving again at the realization that the city is unspeakably lonely.

You scarf down two pizza slices on paper plates, thinking back to your near run-ins with Empire State Building ticket hawkers and tourists who suddenly stop in the middle of the sidewalk, and you shudder.

Some days it feels like it's only through advance planning and effort that people connect with anyone at all. Your breath is caught, but maybe it wishes to escape again. You think to yourself, “what's it all for?”

At least you have your neighborhood?

Image On Where-Is-Steve