Lark Street

Lark Street.
24 x 24.
By Cat Jones

Although I’ve moved to a castle in another New York city now, I used to live on Lark Street. I had the coolest stoop in the city there, and many  great adventures. I had a sunny window seat, and a great place to paint. It was a good place to start to heal from a lot of things that needed healing. A very good place to be an artist, even if not much of a place to sell art. (Ah, capitalism. It does not mix well with anything, especially not love or art. So it was perpetually hard to make the rent there, but perpetually easy to paint.) I used to fall asleep at night listening to the lull of pedestrians and the whispering traffic snaking through the city beneath my window. Continue reading