Last night I got back from a week-long trip to Utah. I had a really great time visiting friends and family and having some Utah misadventures. You can read about it here. Being in Utah, I spent a lot of time driving and in between that, in people's sprawling, affordable suburban homes. Which inspired me to pursue a photo essay on teeny, tiny, expensive NYC apartments.
I know, I know, how am I possibly going to fit it into my already too busy schedule? I have no idea, so the pursuit is just that: an idea. And I am surprised that it's birth was in Utah. I guess I missed NYC so much that it conjured crazy images in my mind, that I really want to capture for all to see. Too many times NYC living is portrayed as this loft with ginormous windows and mod and minimalist furniture. And of course I have seen those apartments.
My reality and that of my friends and neighbors is not like that. The images that kept popping in my mind were my friend who built her own loft bed and shelves with pine, and covered all her books in white paper, so that she wouldn't be distracted by their titles; And my friends who have no closets and instead hang their clothing on racks on one perimeter of their room, and have a makeshift bedroom for their third child on the other wall of their room behind their dresser; And of my pianist who has a 5th floor walk-up studio filled with a baby grand piano and stacks and stacks and stacks and stacks of music books that come up about 4 feet on every wall. How he got that piano in there I will never know.
These rooms tell the stories of the sacrfices we make to partake of this amazing city. What we choose to do with our living space tells the story of who we are, our pursuits, passions, professions and priorities. I look forward to exploring it, if anyone will answer the door when I knock.