.
I took some snapshots of our apartment and junk the other day before we started packing. We are both looking forward to moving into our place in Seattle but will really miss this place in Fort Greene, which was built a century earlier and has the high ceilings and beautiful details to prove it. (Click to enlarge any of these.)
Pacific Standard centcom.
I found this pear box on the sidewalk when we first moved in.
We had this big bulletin board up with several layers of pictures, flyers, and other stuff tacked to it.
The cupboard doesn't usually look like this, but it was right after a party so it was kind of stuffed. The two rectangle tins are vintage sardines I picked up at Fairway in Red Hook. They've been aged since the early '70s and are supposed to be great – we will see. Janice brought us the Hudson Manhattan Rye Whiskey as a going away present (thank you!)
This is looking up the stairway. One other thing that dates this house is the way it has settled – the floor is totally uneven and when you walk down the stairs you get a little dizzy if you're not used to it. It's like living on a boat, you go below deck. I like it but it could be treacherous if, say, you had some Hudson Manhattan Rye Whiskey in you.
No we haven't hiked it. Well, a little bit of it in various places, but not the whole thing. I would like to do it some day.
These are paintings by my Uncle, Perry Woodfin. Much more about him later. The one on the left is of a telephone booth on Whidbey Island that marks the informal border between North and South Whidbey. South is (in general) the more politically progressive side and the North tends to be conservative because of its proximity to the base. The one on the right is of some Guamanian mussel harvesters on Penn Cove, where Perry lives, and my mom has a place next door. Lots more about that stuff another time.
Chad calls this the man's lounge.
I designed this quilt for a typography class when I was at Parsons – the quotation is from Marshall McLuhan's
The Medium is the Message.
We got these from Lee Quiñones at a party several years ago, at Bob on the Lower Eastside.
Some old mix tapes I made for Emily.
Our bedroom is right on the street, which leads to some middle-of-the-night annoyances such as the rare gunshot (not so much anymore) or the less-rare drunk guys sitting on the stoop. But it's usually fine and we can sleep through just about anything now.
Jeans will be happy anywhere as long as he has his chair and some birds to look at out the window. So spoiled.
Lord Have Mercy (featuring M.O.P.) Home Sweet Home mp3
Playbutton is a self-contained, rechargeable device that holds music or other pre-recorded sounds inside a wearable button. There's a headphone jack at the bottom, and sound control buttons on the back. The recording is unalterable, which is an aspect of it I like, as it forces you to deliberately choose an album to listen to, not unlike putting on a record and playing the whole thing.
Wind's Poem by Mount Eerie is an album that lends itself particularly well to that kind of listening; I was lucky enough to receive a copy of the Playbutton version (above) from my friend Chad and I have to say that the sound quality and packaging – including copper foil, as on the original LP – are top notch. Two other Playbuttons are currently available, one from Bubbles and a 10-song compilation from Opening Ceremony (below) featuring Girls, Björk, How To Dress Well, Matthew Dear, Coconut Records and others. Proceeds from that one go to Musicians On Call, a non-profit that brings live and recorded music to the bedsides of hospital patients.
Playbuttons are forthcoming from The XX, Pains of Being Pure At Heart, Javelin, Mark Borthwick, and more. Visit Opening Ceremony to purchase for $25 each.
“Fire Jet” racing car, about 1955.
Chrysler New Yorker Four-Door Sedan, 1957.
Ford Fairlane 500 Skyliner Two-Door Convertible with retractable hardtop, 1959; with battery-powered motor and remote control.
General Motors Oldsmobile Two-Door Sedan, 1955; with trailer.
I took some snapshots of our apartment and junk the other day before we started packing. We are both looking forward to moving into our place in Seattle but will really miss this place in Fort Greene, which was built a century earlier and has the high ceilings and beautiful details to prove it. (Click to enlarge any of these.)
Pacific Standard centcom.
I found this pear box on the sidewalk when we first moved in.
We had this big bulletin board up with several layers of pictures, flyers, and other stuff tacked to it.
The cupboard doesn't usually look like this, but it was right after a party so it was kind of stuffed. The two rectangle tins are vintage sardines I picked up at Fairway in Red Hook. They've been aged since the early '70s and are supposed to be great – we will see. Janice brought us the Hudson Manhattan Rye Whiskey as a going away present (thank you!)
This is looking up the stairway. One other thing that dates this house is the way it has settled – the floor is totally uneven and when you walk down the stairs you get a little dizzy if you're not used to it. It's like living on a boat, you go below deck. I like it but it could be treacherous if, say, you had some Hudson Manhattan Rye Whiskey in you.
No we haven't hiked it. Well, a little bit of it in various places, but not the whole thing. I would like to do it some day.
These are paintings by my Uncle, Perry Woodfin. Much more about him later. The one on the left is of a telephone booth on Whidbey Island that marks the informal border between North and South Whidbey. South is (in general) the more politically progressive side and the North tends to be conservative because of its proximity to the base. The one on the right is of some Guamanian mussel harvesters on Penn Cove, where Perry lives, and my mom has a place next door. Lots more about that stuff another time.
Chad calls this the man's lounge.
I designed this quilt for a typography class when I was at Parsons – the quotation is from Marshall McLuhan's The Medium is the Message.
We got these from Lee Quiñones at a party several years ago, at Bob on the Lower Eastside.
Some old mix tapes I made for Emily.
Our bedroom is right on the street, which leads to some middle-of-the-night annoyances such as the rare gunshot (not so much anymore) or the less-rare drunk guys sitting on the stoop. But it's usually fine and we can sleep through just about anything now.
Jeans will be happy anywhere as long as he has his chair and some birds to look at out the window. So spoiled.
