I have a new home. That makes 25 in 35 years. Moving days On September 1, 2017, like so many September Firsts before it, I moved. Not from one US city to another, but from NYC to Madrid. As of today, I have been in Spain for exactly a year and a half. Of the … Continue reading Moving in Madrid
It can’t be overstated, moving to a new country is a Herculean task, like scaling a brick wall with your bare hands.
Madrid is a superb vacation destination, but we aren't on vacation. This is our lives now.
The first thing you should know is that I do not speak Spanish. That is to say, I know how to ask for beers ("dos cervezas, por favor") and I have the ability to read most signs and can even get the gist of more complex sentences, but when it comes to the actual act … Continue reading “Lo siento”: Welcome to Madrid and starting over, again
I've lived in Brooklyn, worked in Manhattan, rarely been to Queens, coasted through the Bronx, and touched my toes on Staten Island. I've had one experience of the city, and it is hardly representative. But it is still authentic.
Last days are never as profound as they appear on television.
Home is a base, a starting point, a fixture to which I latch a tether, however temporarily. Like a climber reaching for the next anchor point, I’m always searching for somewhere new to fasten a hold.
No matter how many books read, how many websites visited, how many personal accounts accumulated, when it comes down to make the actual move, my arms remain outstretched in a darkened room.