I've been busy. I met Liberia and Princess at Liberia's loft in Greenpoint, a quintessential borough-loft. Liberia threw a party on an enormous yacht this weekend, a rave, burning man style, madness! Especially as Manhattan has been surrounded by a sea of ice. Ice shelfs have been spotted floating down the Hudson + East River. Mastodons are reported in Queens. Dubious, the existence of a Northwest Passage. Princess told me about omf (our mutual friend, for future reference), shooting the video for Ferg while I leaned slow into some sizzurp I procured last week. Life is starting to move fast.
Eric Holder dropped by Brooklyn's office the other day at work; she'd been drinking. These things happen.
I met Chilena at Santina, a perfect restaurant situated in a little grotto underneath the end of the High Line at the north edge of the West Village, around the corner from the relocated Whitney. The food was phenomenal; when they can open the doors up with a breeze off the Hudson in the summer, the Whitney around the corner? It's like La Grenouille's downtown outpost.
Thursday I had drinks at a small venue in the East Village with folklorist friends. Folklore is palatable to this generation, to people who are young, to the internet (memes, anyone?). Understand the culture you possess, be it hand clap games, stories, legends, foods, traditions...it's a beautiful thing to discover you're already part of something, and, you are.
Tonight I hit Barclays to see Golden State. I hope they win it all. Steph Curry is illmatic.
Friends visiting from LA this weekend.
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