Tag Archives: The Book of Changes

New York feels empty now

  It’s 1995. I’m with my brother in Soho; I live five minutes away on Stanton St; he’s visiting from California. We’re walking past Broome Street warehouses washed by winter sun, that cold yellow light on white painted brick. We visit one gallery after another. George says it feels like post-apocalyptic times. Money’s gone, the markets crashed, art world’s dead …

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