Chelsea. Murray Hill. Upper East Side. Upper West Side. Midtown East. Midtown West. Long Island City. East Village. SoHo. NoHo. Harlem. Downtown. Uptown. West Village.
I have been everywhere. The pre-war walkups, the charming cultured neighborhood apartments, the Glass-and-Chromes. The search for a home. The perfect place. A sanctuary. I'll be first to admit I am a bit obsessive about this little project, and but for the stern advice of my close friends I would have signed some Pound-of-Flesh type leases this week simply because I loved the way some places 'felt'. But to me that's what it is all about. I'm looking for a place that 'feels' like home. I want to walk in after a hard day at work, flick a switch to fill the room with the divine voice of Corinne Bailey Rae, light 12 candles around my bath-tub, pour a glass of wine, undress myself from the kitchen to the bathroom, and just lay there for 15 minutes. Home. And the good thing is, when I walk into that place, I will know. It's that simple and that complicated.
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