Taylor Blake

When you look in my eyes, it will all become clear.

I’d prefer to drop the veil right here and allow you to simply gaze into my big, honest, and fiery eyes–I’ve always preferred show to tell and dare to truth. However, like you I’m assuming, I wear many hats, some of them tantalizingly public and some even more tantalizingly private. So for now, a personal description that vaguely captures my essence will have to suffice until you dare to let me show you.

I graduated with honors from an Ivy with a Bachelors of Science but always cherished my art and philosophy classes most. The first hat I tried on out of college was as a card-carrying scientist and the second was in good old corporate America. In the end though, I wasn’t made for the fluorescent lighting of either vocation.

I was made for soaring ceilings with natural light, vintage furs, new shoes, old records, newspapers, dive bars filled with musicians and artists, five-star white tablecloths surrounded by movers and shakers, sneaking glances, knowing smirks, last minute flights, last minute roses, last minute confessions of how much our time together means to you.

Above all other descriptors, I am a New Yorker. My family has been here for four generations and my native tongue is New York wit. My favorite song is rush hour traffic and my favorite color is exposed-brick red. A friend once described me as “enigmatic, sumptuous, and expansive” and I like to think New York City and I share that in common. We are both full of great pleasures, sins, and challenges. I find it odd how often I hear someone say they “love all that New York has to offer”—I can’t help but wonder what they are offering New York.

So what will our time be like? Maybe it will be a delightfully colorful respite. Maybe it will be refreshingly effortless and endlessly fascinating. Maybe it will be Chet Baker and a dirty martini or Lou Reed and a Manhattan. Maybe, as Yeats says, “what can be explained is not poetry”.