They came and partied.
And a brief newsflash.
Our new lease has arrived. Brian Elgart has raised our rent from $1,900 per month to $2,500.
That's an extra $600 a month. Last year it went up $200/month.
We need to think seriously about whether our love of the terrace justifies paying this much more to live in a building that is otherwise dirty and unmaintained. We do what others in New York do, cocoon ourselves in a personal space that speaks to and reflects our values and taste, while living in a larger context of ethical and aesthetic anarchy.
But that can get old. 400 square feet for two humans is a challenge, and the leaks were getting to us.
Our plan was always to move on, once my book was written. The book is essentially a tribute to this city that I love, and to the spirit within all of us that makes habitable the uninhabitable, if we only choose to pay attention to the details.
We have made no decision yet, as this is all very new, but we have two months to think.
[Footnote. We moved. To Harlem. We left it all behind. And our apartment stood empty for nine months.]