05
Jun
Looking for the right space to fit your life...
Funnily enough I wrote this email two years ago, almost to the day and saved it in my drafts. Two years later, I am about to embark on the same journey. I thought I would share my thoughts from this note I created for some of my best friends and family and a nyc experience I had in the east village from 2010.. Maybe it will brighten the road ahead for some of you.
As I get ready to move into a new space I wonder “what is my check list to happiness?” What am I setting out to find? More space? More freedom to do arts and crafts? To entertain? To be “an adult” and purchase adult furniture? What type of space will I feel comfortable to grow and develop - as I have now expounded upon these “important years of my 30’s.” We must find the perfect apartment to begin life, right?!?
I met this nice man Sunday evening. His name is Anthony Pisano. He is my neighbor — kind of. He lives on 7th between 1st and Ave A. I passed by on my way home earlier this evening as he had John Coltrane playing out the front door and I stopped to survey the situation, peaking inside, but not actually entering, until he emerged from the shadows and greeted me with a healthy, welcoming smile and peaceful soul. He said, jovially, “Well hello there,” then he said. He held out his hand. I obliged and welcomed his handshake. I looked him in the eye as he complimented my handshake, “You must have gotten that from your father.” he said with a smile. I said, “Thank you sir.” I will tell him. We chatted. I asked if this was a jazz bar or his apartment? He said, “Please you are welcome to investigate yourself…” my first instinct (to decline and walk away-this is ny you know!) was disengaged by his insistence to remain outside while I browsed the premise. He repeated I will be out here and he pointed again and encouraged me with his trusting eye’s. I accepted and stepped into his apartment. The nicknacks and chachki’s — you wouldn’t believe his collection if I told you. Not distasteful at all — like a well preserved music hall of fame and antique shop. Tony’s apartment is a storefront and he has been there for 32 years and here is the kicker - he has never sold a thing (he told me that before I left giggling). He used to rent the cafe next door and the apartment above — he told me. ”But I didn’t need them anymore…” (the article says the same)!
Pisano has played music (Jazz) with the “best of the them…” raised his family there and now lives alone insisting that he’s there to greet passers-by. He has a piano in his 8x8 kitchen, behind his twin bed in his 4x6 living space and on the other-side (of the piano) is an iron stove and fairly small but decadent kitchen complete with chopping block a kitchen table for one and hefty pots and pans assorted on the wall. I could smell the italian food he just made for dinner. It was a great ny experience. I looked through his pictures of him when he was a young pop jazz artist, playing with John Coltrane. I stepped back out onto his front stoop and asked him about it. Pisano responded with, ”That wasn’t my greatest accomplishment — it’s those over there” pictures of him and his family on the stoop, hanging out.
I stepped out again (on the stoop) and he said, “What a lovely voice, young lady, do you sing?” I said, “I love to sing, but not in front of people.” He said, “Oh, why not?” I said, “I am too shy.” I admitted my attempts of becoming a blues singer in college and he greeted that with an immediate and reassuring, “Well, you have got to try again!” Tony asked, “Can you read music?” I said “Yes, but I’m a bit rusty”. He said, “Do you have a piano?” I said, “No sir.” He responded, “You do now!” as he pointed to his kitchen. I told him, “Oh thank you so much, but I couldn’t bother…” he continued to tell me a story of this german couple that stopped by recently — the lady’s father used to be a painter and has no desire to paint any longer. He went into his storefront apartment and brought her a tiny paint brush, handed it to her and said, “Give this to him. Tell him to draw a line or a circle and see
what happens.” The women called him when she returned to Germany and said that her father drew the circle and smiled.”
Sorry I didn’t proofread this all that much, it’s late so I apologize for the grammatical errors and the potential overuse of quotes — however, it was a moment of inspiration in my neighborhood, in the East village. A man that lives his life for the arts and music, is happy within his means, in a humble space he calls his home and wants to encourage others to experience the greatest gifts of all-their inner artist… (regardless of how decadent or modest their lives are)
“let the music play.”
Now that I have moved to Bensonhurst, Brooklyn.. after commuting the last few days I realized I live in a real neighborhood with really down to earth people. I feel like they have been here for years! I met some last night.. they didn’t invite me in for tea, but I could feel the community and the welcome -especially from the older gentleman on the lawn. He’s the silent type, but his smile says it all. I think we will be friends. 