From Brooklyn to the West Village and back
This portrait resulted from a trip back to my friend Caitlin’s childhood home in the West Village. We had been living on our own in Brooklyn just long enough for the whole experience (more specifically, her unfriendly parrot, Ruth) to seem novel. Her parents fed us sandwiches and let us throw in a load of laundry. Maybe Caitlin’s knowing expression is such because although her parents are lovely, we knew we had our own home to tumble back over the bridge to.
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