Archives for August 2011
Only 5 Days Left to Help Save the Planned Greenpoint Community Garden Space
As we mentioned last week, there’s a wonderful Kickstarter project that needs the community’s support. The clock is ticking to help Trish And Maureen save a vacant lot on India St in Greenpoint. Co-founders of Domestic Construction, an alternative design firm that was recognized by Entrepreneur Magazine in publication’s list of the 100 “Most Brilliant Companies to Watch of 2010,” the duo hope to transform the plot into an irresistible inner city sanctum. Now not only can you make their dream a reality by becoming a supporter, you can also win the space for your own private party. Here are the details for your chance to win “The Ultimate Summer BBQ”, courtesy of Green Design blog Inhabitat:
1. Comment on design.plot’s Kickstarter page about why saving green space is a good idea to you.
Natural Wine: A Welcome Throwback
My first encounter with natural wine was not a happy one. It was about ten years ago, when one of my colleagues finally saved enough money to buy a house in New Jersey. Having grown up in cramped apartments all over Manhattan, he was now giddy with extra real estate. He had a decent sized bucolic backyard, and a cool and damp basement, so decided to pursue a hobby befitting a country gentleman—the art of wine making.
We heard about his progress throughout that year: “I found a book on making natural wine… I ordered a personal-sized oak barrel from California… I started the fermentation process… I’m aging the bottles on an Ikea rack….” One day, a bottle mysteriously appeared on my desk. It had edgy kidnapper-style black and bold lettering on rustic brown craft paper. The cork was dutifully sealed with a wad of drippy red wax. I was so excited. I couldn’t wait to try it with dinner.
Everything Beautiful Began After (excerpt from a new novel) by Simon Van Booy
For those who are lost, there will always be cities that feel like home.
Places where lonely people can live in exile of their own lives—far from anything that was ever imagined for them.
Athens has long been a place where lonely people go. A city doomed to forever impersonate itself, a city wrapped by cruel bands of road, where the thunder of traffic is a sound so constant it’s like silence. Those who live within the city itself live within a cloud of smoke and dust—for like the wild dogs who riddle the back streets with hanging mouths, the fumes linger, dispersed only for a moment by a breath of wind or the aromatic burst from a pot when the lid is raised.
To stare Athens in the face is to peer into the skull of a temple. Set high above the city on a rock, tourists thread the crumbling passageways, shuffle across shrinking cakes of marble worn by centuries of curiosity.