7.18.2025

Detroit is a city of empty spaces. There's so much unused land here that any functioning business on a given block looks both isolated and more important than it probably is. Like a long Latinate word in a phrase made up of short ones. Unassuming brick structures with an OPEN sign surrounded by vacant lots and I go, oh, I guess these guys run the market on bicycle pumps. It's a weird feeling I get from this place. I want to live here. I've always wanted to live here. There's so much potential in these hundred year old buildings. I want to occupy a top floor loft on an empty block and peer out the windows at night at my blank kingdom. I want to turn brownfields into green ones. And there are plenty of folks doing that kind of work already. And this neighborhood I'm in, Midtown, is rocking by any standard. Protected bike lanes on Cass. Go figure. People I talk to seem, I don't know, less heavy. Maybe I'm less heavy. There's evidence everywhere that this whole city was a-bustle once upon a time, and there's even still a streetcar I'm not sure anyone uses, but it's really difficult to imagine what it must have been like sixty years ago. There's also no reason to want to force things. Space is good and there's enough here for all of us who want to be here.