Some time ago (in the fall of 2016), I had done a Google Street View look at my old apartment in Bushwick. I noticed that the image was captured in 2014. One year before I actually moved to Brooklyn. Which means there was not a record - a map - of my time in New York, a city that immediately felt like it could be a home to me.
July 2016 was my last month in New York. Those few weeks were strange. I had all packed up and was just … there. Haunting the streets with a vague sense of a routine that was not my life anymore.
A little tour through the old neighborhood. Haunting, yes, but also charging. How do I set my intentions for my new space into this weird book in-between times? Magic and sigils and ritual. Making marks to delineate the paths I want to open up for me and rooting them in a place that, while I’m no longer tethered to, helped me progress and grow into where I am now.
