Huntington Station

I can't be stationary for long, pretty sure you can't be either. We need to move, right? And that’s the dream: move here, and move up, above all move under your own own volition. And not be beaten down. I hated moving here, to Huntington Station, a teenager who had just discovered art in New York City. Here, though, in a split level ranch on Long Island, was home, and where my parents lived the life—as far as I can tell—that they dreamed of, and stayed as long as they could.