Today, not for the first time, I arrived in New York. What is different is that I am renting a room in the apartment of a friend of a friend for a month. My purpose is to: (a) more broadly explore New York’s Burroughs; (b) sketch New York life (drawings); (c) perhaps do some writing here; (d) see friends and relatives; and (d) explore New York writers’ communities.

My mother and father were raised in New York (mom in Brooklyn, Dad on Manhattan’s Lower East Side.)  Mom always wanted to come back to New York, so I feel like, in this month, I am both exploring New York for myself and returning for her–trying, amongst other things, to find traces of her New York, and my father’s New York as well.  We’ll see.

It is interesting to me that my mother used to talk of living in a furnished room–in her case, she was probably referring to the kind of room one would find in a boarding house.  But, in some sense, I too am renting a furnished room.  Doing so in someone’s apartment, even with kitchen and bathroom privileges, feels a little strange.  We’ll see how it goes…