1000 Words: On The EastSide

It's not hard to distinguish the East Side from the West Side. The buildings are different, the blocks are different, the people are different. Some people refer to the East Side as little Baghdad or El Barrio. To live here and want to live here, or to have left and comeback, you have to love it. Its filled with 4 generations of project building residence, methadone clinics and its derivatives, Ricardos, Pee Dee Steakhouse, dilapidated churches and the Crack is Wack wall. No corner is shy of a dope fiend and no sidewalk is short/untouched of a drunk from South of the border.

The cars drive faster on the East Side because the Avenues are like highways. If you catch the right light, you can make it to the Bronx in two minutes. The wealth of Harlem doesn't present itself well on the East Side, that's a West Side thing. With Brownstones on Strivers Row or Convent Avenue... Or even the Carter. I heard those apartments are beautiful. The history and significance of 125th Street. The Apollo. The Cotton club. Zip Code. These are Harlem monuments, but are the silver lining to the West Sides own horror stories.

No matter the cross street, heading east, the moment you past Lenox Avenue, the change is significant. The buildings are taller, so there is less sun, the faces are longer because there are more drugs, and, because children have experienced so much, they speak with the absolute of an adult.

On the East Side and in neighborhoods just alike, the color black is redundant in its residences wardrobe. It's safe. Strategically, we buy black clothes because it has a longer shelf life. Not because the color won't fade, but because it allows us to wear it more often and people not notice. Although classic and impactful, no one cares about black. Colors are dangerous. Always have been. For what it represents. Colors represent abundance. That you have more than the average. That's not safe. Not here.