in process

Upstairs, primed.

too much with us

Our upstairs renovation is almost complete, after which we will move some things back up there and the workers will begin on the much less extensive downstairs job. It is so dramatically different and surprisingly beautiful, albeit in a very different way than it was. I hope to have some transitional photos up soon. Until then, more of the old stuff.

the opposite of lame

I recently began to do most errands and my commute by bicycle. I have two bikes, one banged-up 70s Raleigh sports I can lock up anywhere in NYC without fear of theft, and an ultra fancy lady, a Pashley princess sovereign, pictured above on her way home from the excellent shop Bespoke Bicycles in Fort Greene, Brooklyn.

I never wore a helmet when I lived in Europe, but I have a baby now, and that changes things. Still, most bike helmets are hideous and I'm not into the skate helmet as bike helmet thing. I have solved this dire, dire helmet problem by getting myself a show helmet. I did a lot of riding when I was younger so wearing this helmet actually feels a lot more normal to me than wearing a bike helmet. I'm used to it. And it looks better. Riding helmets happen to adhere to a higher safety standard than do bike helmets anyway because a horse will throw your ass in any direction.

Riding my bike through Brooklyn, and seeing other beautiful houses, in beautiful neighborhoods, makes me feel ok about our future in another place.

goodnight, noises everywhere

The scene above was painted onto canvas and then mounted to the wall by the company who manufactured tents and tarps here in the 40s. It's hard to imagine a company doing something so considered now. There are remnants of these paintings all over the second floor of the house, but this is the only complete example.

Goodbye, house.

Ten years ago when my husband bought our building, he painstakingly preserved its beautiful decay, working surgically to save layers of paint and tin. The building we live in was built as a corner grocery in the 1870s. In the 1920s, it became the Arctic Bar and Grill, a restaurant and speakeasy. In 1949, it was issued a certificate of occupancy for the manufacture of tents and tarpaulins. In 1968 it became a wood shop, which it remained until 2000, when it became a space for artists to live and work. In 2007 it became ours alone. In 2008 we had a baby.

Our house, though beautiful, is covered in lead paint. It's not safe for our most beloved baby son, and so we are covering the decay we have worked so hard to preserve with plain sheetrock. And we are slowly moving on.