I was walking down 85th and Lex when I saw him. It had been four months since the last correspondence. This was after our direct contact dissipated because of his drinking, which led to the yelling, which led to me wearing longer sleeves and waking up earlier to add more layers of makeup. The marks human eyes couldn’t see took longer to fade.
history is made up of the things that didn’t happen just as much as the ones that did.
Next to a gas station on Bushwick Avenue and Jefferson Street, a large building covered in colorful murals awaits a premature vacancy. The Silent Barn Collective, a DIY music venue and collaborative living and art […]
Steve Gunn is hot. On a particularly sweltering autumn evening, this is the first thing the Brooklyn-based musician says when he gets on stage at Murmrr Theatre earlier this fall. Although he teases us while he […]
