I’m a city girl, with a love for the country easily lured by a good road trip (the remnants of route 66 are incomparable), far off places (a few countries a year) nearby adventures.[fusion_builder_container hundred_percent=”yes” overflow=”visible”][fusion_builder_row][fusion_builder_column type=”1_1″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” spacing=”yes” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding=”” margin_top=”0px” margin_bottom=”0px” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”no” center_content=”no” min_height=”none”]
A day trip to DIA Beacon, let alone a subway ride to an unknown romantic neighborhood, can make you feel a world away), the mountains (I’ve been skiing since I learned to walk; summers are for hiking, and the ocean, the ocean, the ocean. The ability to be in the middle of nowhere is vastly underrated, a good expanse of grass in a sufficiently isolated location is heaven .I’ve got a thing for objects with a story, simple beautiful design, Turkey (the country), the Wordsworth House, maps, a well-crafted op-ed, Bruno Munari, tools, eating at the bar, cameras, This American Life, typography, dinner parties (cooked with friends in an open, raucous kitchen, consumed over drunken debate), foraging in flea markets, a good coffee kick, snowed in cabins, and some serious guilty pleasures – which run the gamut and are, by definition, not for public consumption. Museums are like casinos for me, I lose all sense of time, and occasionally place. I can be totally consumed by an exhibition, though it is not rare for me to miss one I really wanted to see. I would love to have a house in the country with a studio in the backyard someday, though I am not an Artist with a capital A.