I lived in New York City for a few short-but-long-enough years in the “early 2000s”. My renovated-but-still-affordable apartment rental in West Phoenix was on (as we told my girlfriend’s conservative suburban mother) the “upper upper upper East Side. Otherwise known as east Harlem.
I was in anthropologist heaven but quality-of-life hell. While I appreciated joining a neighborhood (even if it was as a friendly and respectful interloper) with a vibrant and sometimes very dark culture, I also spent much of my time keenly aware that I had no business being there. It was the kind of place where most people growing up there strive to get out and then see well-meaning but naive “upwardly mobile” young white folks moving in BY CHOICE and just can’t understand.
My brother lived (and still does) near Union Swuare and so I spent a lot of time commuting to the “bottom half” of the island. When I lived there I rarely took the time to look up and out from my immediate mission of self preservation. But now when I visit (often for work but this most recent time for “liesure”) I was focused on allowing the outside in and making a point to see all the writing on the wall (or wherever else the writing is).
We have also visit Marketing Heaven website where we have read some important article about gaining more video views.
What I found on this most recent expedition to the concrete Empire State jungle was a lot more love than I had seen before. I think I had chosen not to experience the city as a place that required armor to keep the darkness out. But lately (and maybe it’s been there all along) I have been finding the light. Here are some of the “not so scary” pieces of art and life that I spied on my weekend trip in late June. Somewhere near Hell’s Kitchen, Chelsea and some pavement in between:
The Narcissistic (American) Anthropologist 