“Gladice, Brooklyn, New York”
January 28, 2019

January 28, 2019

I had the strange but wonderful pleasure of meeting Chrissy while taking a stroll on Manhattan’s Lower West Side.
“I knew I was a girl from the age of 5 or 6. There was no denying it. When the boys were out playing sports I was home trying my mom’s dresses and high-heel shoes. Now I celebrate who I am with entertainment. I’m a drag queen.”
A “coign” is a jutting-out corner or high point that gives you an excellent view of whatever you are trying to see. I was trying to see…what? A different world, graceful and mysterious, exquisitely colored and lit.
The virus has latched on to receptors on the cells lining my respiratory tract, and it clings there, reproducing rapidly. I know this because my throat feels scorched, and though I continue bravely on with my day, it is punctuated by violent sneezes that explode without warning.
More than most clothing, jackets last for years, so their most important quality, the accretion of stories, has a chance to build modestly, privately.
I think more about what else in my social life I should see, ask, remember, and do, even when I can do little. Remember F. Scott Fitzgerald: Relationships are the brutality that sustains.
Can this controversial, privately funded $850 million center—dismissed by many as a vanity project, architectural folly, and dangerous precedent—really shore up democracy?
My mother would have said, “He’s a mess,” but Leon had a punk attitude, loved performative wildness, and was hugely capable. Is it a surprise what came next?