Pretty much whenever I don't feel like enough is going on to blog about (or too much: cf Hurricane Maria, Hurricane Donald, & more), I think about how much I love living in the East Village. It really is a village—there's the pleasures of running into people, of seeing the brand-new and the familiar, of being a thread in the fabric of the neighborhood. There's not a day that goes by that I'm not grateful to be here. To have found a place that's mine, among people I like & landscape that appeals to my eye.