“
I secured a large, inexpensive, kitchenless dwelling in
the neighborhood I’d dreamed about as a teenager. I
made a meager living working at a part-time job with
an eccentric Harlem-based publisher of art books and
writing small book reviews. Many nights I stayed inside,
listening to jazz on the radio in the apartment. It was so
sparely furnished that my boyfriend declared it equipped
for only two activities: writing and making love.
”| — | Rhodes-Pitts. |
