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Now and then it's good to pause in our pursuit of happiness and just be happy. | Guillaume Apollinaire

photo by JoAnn Verburg

in search of a new home. south (way south) of 181st (and preferably no where near the A train).

i was meant to move april 15. the lease was up. the impetus was strong. and i was ready.

i'd been counting down for months. time to go.

and then came the elevator repair. the elevator repair that begins tomorrow, march 26, just weeks before my move-out date. and with the repair, the news that i'd not be allowed to leave until it was finished.

wrench.

when i went to visit my brother last year there was a moment while waiting for the train that i watched as a little boy tugged on his mother's arm, it's coming, the train is coming. 


he had heard it--i knew he had heard it, but try as i might, head-cocked, much as i could, i could not. i could not hear what that little boy had heard.

i always hear the train where i live now. it's that phenomenon where you're so attuned to a place--so familiar with your neighborhood that you know the subtle shifts in sound and pressure.

it's time. to move. to live somewhere new. to learn to listen differently.

i got one more month than expected until that happens, but that means an extra month to explore new neighborhoods in hopes of finding one that feels both totally different and totally safe.

this weekend my dear friend kim took a trip with me on the F train to brooklyn, and i'm gonna level with you: i quite might like living in a borough.

a new season.

i didn't think spring would have a big effect on me this year. i wasn't longing for it, needing it--i mean, let's be honest, when a person pulls out her winter coat all of four times during the season i don't think we can in good conscience call it a winter. can we?

and yet. 

spring has arrived. and the windows are thrown open. and sunglasses are in demand. and the mornings--the sounds, the smell of it, the way the light plays on the hudson, it undoes me. truly. makes getting out of bed a bit easier. 

i'm not sure i'm so in love with spring as the transition into it. but then i wonder if the whole of the season isn't a transition--maybe that's what it is by definition. 

i'm only just now coming to understand that it is movement--those periods and seasons of great change and transition--that while terrifying, actually awaken. 

i often struggle when asked to write a piece for someone or something else. whether it is an online magazine, another blog, or an essay for an application, i flounder. i don't know if there is more ease writing here, in my own space, because i know that no matter what there will always be another blog post, should i choose.

well, when katie asked me to contribute to volume two of the off switch i was nervous. her publication, which she produces almost entirely by herself (from what i can tell) is stunning. i mean, the first one was absolutely stunning. and i wanted to live up to that.

she asked me to expand on an idea that i've often touched on here: this last year and the profound effect that music had on me.

now i must tell you, i actually quite like the article i wrote. and so i would be deeply honored if you all would hop over and check out the publication.

my article is right near the front.



i can't wait to really dive into the publication--the photography, the ideas and the words--all stunning. refreshing, really.

so without further ado: off switch

and please do let me know what you think!

xo
meg