The second I laid eyes on the full-floor, second-story walk-up at 321 Broadway, I was inspired. It was much bigger than the ad
@itsjessegoldman had found in the Village Voice suggested, and it was somewhat affordable when split four ways—despite being in the remote, undeveloped part of Brooklyn known as Williamsburg. But the commute to SVA was acceptable, and the space was always welcoming when you got home, thanks to
@travissatten , who filled it with warm jazz records. I would spend hours lying on the sofa
@josephtripi had brought from his childhood home, watching the light refract off the JZ train through the cloudy prewar windows.
A few years later,
@hanaelassad and Milo moved in, and she transformed the loft from a museum of my youth into a home—one that, no matter where I was in the world, was always my final destination.
We danced. We laughed. We fell in love. We got bed bugs. We played with swords. Thank you, 321 Broadway. You’ll always be home.
