Let’s face it; strange things crop up in life, like mushrooms after a storm. Sometimes you have to push deeper into the unknown when confronted with the unexpected. In my case, this meant a sudden move, with less than 24 hour notice, and little over a week before traveling to Japan and San Francisco. Luckily, I found a new spot quickly, in a loft building with 14 other residents on the same floor. It’s something I would have passed on, honestly, had I more time; but I didn’t and I jumped on the room.
Now, back in New York and moved into the space, I am trying to wrap my head around group living on such a large scale. Communal facilities, picking a fridge, remembering everyone’s name, finding the mailbox, toilet paper (to hoard or not to hoard turns out to be a thorny question)… It’s all flipped my notions of boundaries–do I really want everyone using my wine glasses?–and personal space.
I had a long-held fantasy, throughout my 20s, of living in an environment like this, albeit with fewer roommates: the DIY, rough-but-cozy artsy warehouse packed with interesting personalities who all somehow, magically, gel into a Fort Thunder-like creative milieu. Will it happen just like I imagined here? Who knows. But it still seems like a grand and rare experiment, a challenge I am happy to have undertaken. It’s going to be an interesting summer.
Bonus: In case you need inspiration to glide around in diaphanous togas and disco bronzer, here’s late 70s/early 80s era Stevie Nicks interrupting her makeup artist for an impromptu rendition of “Wild Heart” in a loftish space.