Vol. 2: From the Table of Williamsburg at Graham Ave/Via Vespucci, 2012

Whiskey (or Not) Affogato Float

What comes to mind when you think of home?

Is it a neighborhood? A community? A person? A time? Is it a place you remember? Is it a feeling you create? Is it something you carry with you, or something you left behind?

From the first time I visited NYC, it had the feeling of home. Maybe it was the streets, laid out in a mostly orderly grid. Maybe it was the flow of people, walking or biking swiftly and with purpose, as if toward the future. It was certainly because of the promise of finding a like-minded community of folks — ambitious, curious, open-minded, and creative. New York was the place where folks moved to make things happen. And they felt more possible here because almost everyone was just another person on the street, another face on the train, and essentially we were all in this together.

A view of the city from the roof of our Williamsburg apartment building.