Tomorrow, Brooklyn

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© Greg Wasserstrom

Hello New York­ers, tomor­row I’ll finally be one you. I’ve been yearn­ing to live in New York since I was about 14 years now It’s finally time, though it’s true that I don’t have a job or an apart­ment lined up, I’m going more or less blind. I do have a place to stay for a lit­tle while thanks to my friend Emily who is so gra­ciously allow­ing me to stay at her apart­ment to feed her cat. It’s funny; thanks to this lit­tle pub­li­ca­tion right here there’s a long list of peo­ple I’m look­ing for­ward to hang­ing out with that I’ve never met or met only briefly — peo­ple I’m as excited to see as I would be fam­ily mem­bers I’ve been away from for a long time. I’m resist­ing the temp­ta­tion to list every­one because that’s tact­less and sort of bizarre, but I think a lot of you read­ing this can expect a phone call in the next week or two. I just have to over­come one minor set­back, which is that I dropped my cell phone in a pud­dle a cou­ple hours ago and it’s most cer­tainly not work­ing any more.

I’ll also say that in light of hav­ing spent the last two weeks doing all kinds of end-​​of-​​college bull­shit, I haven’t been able to get as far along on my cur­rent project, The Hon­or­able Parts, as I’d hoped. My neg­a­tives, along with every­thing else I own, besides the few things I have with me while I’m here in Hous­ton, are in a stor­age unit on New York Ave. in Wash­ing­ton and will remain there until I have a place to live, which is as of now an inde­ter­minable length of time. I have been quite happy with what I’ve looked at and have a few images that might end up as part of the book in my flickr stream. I’m look­ing for­ward to pulling more from the pages and pages of neg­a­tives I got back last week, but too late to avoid hav­ing to pack them away.

Also, I used some of my grad­u­a­tion money to finally replace the light meter that was stolen a year ago, though I’ll say I have greatly improved my expo­sure guess­ing abil­i­ties — it’s like I am a fuck­ing light meter. But the spot meter I picked up is a great one. It’s about 30 years old and shaped sort of like a laser gun. I was look­ing through it in the park­ing lot of the hos­pi­tal where my mother works on Fri­day, and a secu­rity a guard came over to the car to ask me what I was doing, prob­a­bly think­ing I’m some kind of ter­ror­ist. Nonethe­less, I feel ready for anything.

Not really note­wor­thy but I’ll tell you any­way: I was at the Museum of Fine Arts, Hous­ton the other day and came across a copy of Nia­gara in their book­store. What’s the deal, Alec? Is this thing out of print or not? I spent like two months (here, here and here) try­ing to track down a copy, and then I come across one in my own back­yard. Any­way, I bought it sort of on prin­ci­ple so, fine, now I have two. I’m pretty much like one of those crazy peo­ple who com­pul­sively buy Catcher in the Rye when­ever they’re in a book­store. I own sev­eral copies of the entire Hitch­hik­ers Guide series for the same rea­son that rea­son being that I guess I’m a lit­tle unhinged. I shared my story with the cashier at the museum store and she did not care.

You may also have noticed by now that I can’t spell to save my life. I like to think that it’s part of my charm. And I promise my next post will be some­thing sub­stan­tive, maybe even some­thing about photography.

So here we go, the biggest adven­ture of my life.

Posted on Monday, August 20th, 2007 at 3:41 am

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