For years I came to New York once or twice a year. At first I came for the usual things, the places you’re supposed to see, but almost without noticing my trips started arranging themselves around other things: the restaurants that caught my eye, the museums, the shops. Over time I stopped rushing from one spot to the next and began doing quieter things — walking, working out, living the city without hurry. And it was right there, once I slowed down, that another idea started creeping in.

I began to daydream about living here. I’d watch the people, study the apartment buildings, notice how differently kids move around this city. Every time I got on the plane home, the thought would go on pause until the next trip, when it came back just the same. What I was missing, I think, was a why some push from life to actually take the step.

That push turned out to be The Ėditure. One of those things that happen and connect the dots when you’re not looking. Moving wasn’t simple, but some decisions feel right even when they cost you, and this was one of them.

From those years of visits I still have a few very clear memories. One is a restaurant that blew my mind, Momofuku Ko a tiny place, in a spot that wasn’t impressive at all, with no menu: the chef cooked whatever he felt like that day, and that was it. I came back to New York some time later and found out it had closed. It left me with a strange kind of nostalgia, the way you miss a place you’d grown fond of without ever having said so.

Shopping is its own thing. It’s always been my hobby, the thing I most love to do, and for that New York is in a league of its own. I love getting lost in the areas where the indie brands are, the ones with pieces that are unique, odd, unlike anything else. Finding something like that, something you won’t see anywhere else, still feels like the most fun there is.

And then there are the museums, which for me are another story altogether. Art was in my life before I was even born my grandmother was a painter, and my family has lived close to art for generations. On top of that I have a sensitivity that runs close to the surface, that makes me feel things intensely, and the museums here are pure fuel for it. Life, almost without meaning to, ended up putting me steps away from one of the most important museums in the city. I still can’t quite believe it.

There are so many incredible places in this city  museums, restaurants, whole neighborhoods, parks, shops  that there’s no taking them all in at once. I’ll tell you about them little by little, in time.

Now that I live here for good, there’s something I find hard to explain. New York is chaotic, intimidating, and even so it feels friendly to me; you become one more local pretty fast, walking the same sidewalk as a Broadway actor or someone who moves half the world from an office. What it gives you, deep down, is a way of thinking big. On these same streets live people who dreamed something enormous and pulled it off  and pulled it off right here. That’s what I came for.