lisawhiteman.com
Sunday, 22 September 2002 | Dismantle

It was less than seven weeks ago that I started packing for my last move, and already I'm dismantling my apartment. Even though I've had to do most of the packing alone (aside from Jayme's generous help on Saturday), it's going much faster and it's much more thoughtless this time around. I haven't had a chance to collect superfluous garbage yet; there are no intimidating corners or hidden surprises (I forgot I had this/where did this come from?/oh no, I never returned that), no articles of clothing to give away. I haven't even had a chance to collect dust, apart from the flakes of (lead?) paint that have collected underneath the leaky areas of ceiling.

Saturday evening I went back to my new street, to have another look at it. I hadn't realized how crazy lively it is. There were people hanging out on all available staircases, kids running at full speed, seemingly without looking where they were going (a couple of them ran straight at my legs), Spanish music, overlapping conversations, yelling, laughing, driving, walking, buying. It looked almost as if people had gathered there to wait for a parade, that they were waiting for something to happen. I walked right past my place without even seeing it.

At the place I live now, the streets are very quiet. Most of the noise that seeps in comes from the speakers inside the cars at the intersection outside of my window. Lots of thumpy bass, Hip-Hop, Latin music, Pop, some Country, some Gospel. Sometimes I spy on the people in their cars, watching them sing along, bob their heads, tap the door of their car with their fingers. Ten seconds per car, then a green light, and they're gone again.

Tonight, after giving up on packing for the day, I retreated to Beau's room, to hang out with Beau, Spencer, and Australian Dan. We talked about walkabouts, the environment, war, big business, and small towns, while eating Thai food out of take-out containers scattered on the floor. I'm going to miss having roommates. And I'm not going to miss having roommates.

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New York, 1984: I remember seeing a man pissing in a corner.

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elsewhere
lisa whiteman lens: photography portfolio

People We Like. I've got a new photo in The Morning News: the co-owners of Frank White, an unusual coffee shop in my neighborhood.

— 07.17.08

Charles Atlas will make a man of you! "Against Atlas' better judgment, I declined performing all of my exercises in the nude." (accompanying shirtless photo of the author taken by me.)

— 07.17.08

Cat on a Leash. I am totally buying a leash for Coleman asap.

— 06.25.08

The Brooklynites. Great photos of a wide range of people from my favorite borough. (Thanks to Kurt [a talented photographer himself] for passing this on.)

— 12.19.07

Killer Boob. My childhood (and current!) friend Sarah talks about her experience with breast cancer on her well written and charming blog. She's an American living in Belgium and happens to be one of the best people I know.

— 12.19.07

 
 

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