Prospective/ Retrospective
Printed on the shower curtain in my bathroom is a map of the world. The lines are drawn with a loose hand and the countries are playfully colored. Greenland’s green, Uganda’s peach, its neighbor Tanzania is pink, and the great swath of Russia is a dreamy blue—adding some cheer to the otherwise destitute tiled walls. My bathroom, with its leaky faucet and the closest thing to counter-space the top of the toilet bowl tank, is not the most charming feature of the small Fort Greene apartment, my home of four years.
But so long as I’ve lived in New York, my home has never been more than a place to sleep at night, and I am aware that many people put up with worse. For beyond the secluded hull of every apartment lies the magnificent cosmos of the city, the broad barreling avenues, the perennial clamor, the daily business with its unremitting bustle. It becomes difficult to see how anything could really be happening anywhere else, and if it is, certainly not so with such s... more
Jeremy Sorgen