Sometimes I think about NYC and I tear up. I miss it, I try not to think about it, but I do miss that city. NYC is my second home, I miss it more than I’ve ever missed Caracas. I don’t know why, but since the first time I lived in NYC back in 1997, there has been this attachment, this love story and it’s never really gone away. NYC has been the constant love interest in my life, and I miss it.
Chicago feels like the new guy. The one that keeps me happy in a calm, serene, secure way. Chicago has a charm, quite different from the NYC spell. It feels more settled, easier in a way NYC can never be, because well, it’s just not in its genes. Chicago is starting to grow on me.
Last Sunday Mike and Charley came to visit and spent the day with me roaming around my neighborhood. I had been meaning to take pictures and for some reason (blame it on the freezing weather), I hadn’t gotten around to it. But on Sunday, as we walked Charley by the lake front, I took some shots, take a look at my new hood:
A different Broadway.