After the butterfly bang trim, I walked over to the Zadig & Voltaire on Mercer and checked out their spring collection to calm my nerves. Then I went to the Mercer Hotel, ordered a glass of Pino Gris and gazed out the window. Across Mercer street, Prada was celebrity central, hosting the opening reception for their new Great Gatsby collection. I could see the sides of famous faces in 1920’s fashion rolling up in their cars with drivers, ducking the paparazzi as they were swept inside. Across Prince Street, people were going in and out of my building for the opening of an art show at The Rotary. The Rotary is the name of the art gallery that sits on the second floor, between Fanelli Café and my loft. Kat McCue is the gallerist. Cool Kat is cool. She is also a writer.


The show is called Mie Olise: Elapsed Intoxications. Kat had been hanging it for the last few days, and allowed me a sneak peek. I loved the work and I couldn’t wait to go inside and meet Mie. It was a long wait. Everyone wanted to meet Mie. I fetched my chance when I spotted her looking for the lavatory. The closest available water closet was downstairs at Fanelli’s so I said, “follow me.” We were ascending the stairs to my 3rd floor loft when Mie said, “this building is so cool,” and I said, “so is your art.”



For the past 10 years, I’ve owned galleries and represented artists along Scenic Highway 30A, the most beautiful stretch of beach in the world. Now, I live above a gallery in Soho and I write. How I got to be so lucky, I do not know, but I do know that I cant live without art and that there is nothing better than knowing that the Rotary Gallery is right below my feet that Cool Kat McCue is tucked up inside, curating the collections.


“I am really an architect, but I feel buildings, they are alive, living and breathing and that is what my paintings represent.” Mie has a beautiful Danish accent. I love accents and I knew exactly what she meant. This building was built in the 1850’s and it used to be a brothel. When I step inside, it feels like I’m walking into a rainforest womb. It is fertile, teeming with life, memories, ghosts of the past and future. It is ever incubating, regenerating, creating, and recreating. The walls feel porous, like they hold every word whispered, every moment made and it all folds together in such a way that I feel that I am a part of the building itself. Like it knows that I am here, floating and moving through its spaces and it wants to dance with me and whisper things. It is a strange feeling, but it is true, and I knew Mie felt it too.