This much I have recently discovered in my searching for a place to live: Inwood is kind of great and reminds me of old school NYC, open air cafes, kick ass live jazz playing, a real mix of folks, lots of different languages, bodegas, donut shops, cafes, galleries, grocery stores, parks, gorgeous buildings and the air smells a lot better. And it's still part of Manhattan. Not bad, not bad at all. As I have been living at the end of the Victoria line in London, it somehow seems fitting that I'll be living at the end of the A train in Manhattan.
I am also working on writing for another project that I can't really write about here as it needs to be unpublished writing and blog posts count as published. But suffice it to say I'm continuing on the trail of irony-itis and seeing where it goes. I will be submitting what I'm writing now for paying work, which is why I can't go into it more here.
I will however, show you a photo of some of the papers and photos for my grandmother project, because I find other people's process stuff fun to see, so will see if you do, too.
|(clockwise from top left) Jani's baby photos and her letters, |
Dickie, my grandfather and father on album of Bukoski family photos
and genealogy papers of Bukoskis/Whitbecks (both given to me in June)
The above photos and genealogy also reminds me of the Ellis Island heritage of NYC and it is strangely moving and humbling to realize I had relatives who just shipped themselves over here on a boat (either in the 1600s or 1900s) probably not having a clue how they would make a living or what they would do when they got here. That's impressive. Me, I have to make sure I have some money and a CV ready, get to take a plane and have a moving company schlep my stuff. Not the same really, is it?