Tales of Downtown

She Moved From Umbria to The Brewery - For Love - Just Another Downtown Story

One of my favorite things to do is to go to downtown gallery openings. Perhaps, in a past life I was a painter - because in this life - I can't even draw a straight line.

I love going solo, too. All dressed up (for what I haven't decided), having a glass of wine, meeting the artists, looking at the art - I feel deeply satisfied. 

Well, one night early last year I went to the Tarryn Teresa Gallery in the Arts District. Standing in front of me in the sea of people with a BIG camera around her neck - was this woman. Dressed in a great colorful outfit, hat to match, and a BIG smile.

I don't know why, but I felt compelled to meet her. "Hi, my name is Nancy Mills, I live in a loft in downtown, I love it here, and isn't the art just great!" I said so quickly, that even I couldn't understand myself. "What's your name?" I asked just as quickly.

"My name is Cielo Pessione, and my English isn't so good, I recently moved here from Italy." "Your English sounds perfect to me. And why did you move here? And where do you live?"

"Well, I moved here from Umbria for LOVE and I live at The Brewery." 

Oh-my-god. How romantic. "You moved here for love?" "Yes I did. I married the downtown artist John O'Brien. And I came with my daughter Gaia."

That was it for me. This was a remarkable woman. A brave woman. She moved from the gorgeous Italian hillside village of Umbria to the downtown industrial-looking Brewery. For love. 

As a writer I was in heaven. In my mind - this had the potential of a romance novel. A movie. A play. The love story of the century!

Back to reality and long story short, I gave her my card, she gave me hers, and in time, we have become good friends. 

Turns out - Cielo is a talented fiber arts artist who makes sensational wearable art. She comes from a famous Italian family, has appeared in her own one woman play in Italy, has written three books and is the spokeswoman and curator for her grandfather - the renowned Italian actor Aldo Fabrizi.

I admire her greatly. She is also a kind, humble woman.

But the point of this post is that Cielo followed her dream - even if it was "for love." At age 48, she let nothing stop her from coming to a place she'd never been (except for a week here, a month there). Not her family, friends, fame, or culture.

And like so many downtowners (brimming with their own stories) - she was willing to start a new chapter in her life. Take a chance. And just do it! 

And I shout, "Bravissimo!" "Mazel Tov!" "Salut!" You get the picture.

Thank you Cielo for being my second guest in my current "Downtown Conversation Series With Co-Creators and Visionaries." You are the best! Nancy

Remember When I Told You About...The Naked Guy? Well...There's A Naked Woman Too

When I needed a pick me up, I walked over to Origami's. Corner of Third and Spring. They had the best happy hour in downtown. That is until they changed chefs - but hey, this tale is not about chefs it is about...gossip and body parts.

One night, after working for countless hours in my loft, I put on my flip flops, grabbed my purse, and headed over for a $3 glass of wine and half-price sushi appetizers. Easy. Right? Until...I got to Origami's. 

That is when I met the new bartender. He had tattoos all over his arms, a pierced ear - well now that I think about it many pierces in both ears, and he was really in the fashion business and a designer but he was a bartender on the side - if you catch my drift. 

I asked him for a glass of wine on the happy hour menu and he said that it had ended five minutes ago and that he couldn't give me the happy hour price. Pleeeeeze I begged. "Nope, no can do - the computer won't take it." 

"Oh, I am so disappointed," I said. Resigned to my fate.

Then, he said, with glee, "But, there is no happy hour prices when it comes to wine - all night it is $3 per glass." Hah, hah, hah, he laughed. Oh what a guy. 

But that was only the beginning of my night. Seated next to me were what appeared to be two regulars. Since Origami is on the first floor of the Douglas Building, it was no surprise that one of the "regulars" lived in the Douglas. Not one to miss a beat (that would be me), I said, "I live across the street in the Pan American Lofts and I saw a Naked Guy on your roof."

Well, you would have thought I dropped a bomb. The woman regular said in a huffy voice, "There are no naked men on our roof. That would be impossible. But......there is a NAKED WOMAN in your building."

"What???????" I asked. "How do you know that?" "Because, the tenants who live on THAT SIDE of our building have seen her." 

"What floor?" I asked. "I have no idea," she answered, "but.......apparently she prances around naked all day with her shades OPEN."

Okay, it was clear that we were in a contest of one upmanship. We glared at one another. Then, she toasted the other regular. I toasted the tattooed bartender, who I clearly had nothing in common with. She embellished her story. I embellished mine.

Until we finally left. Exhausted. 

But, between you and me, there was ABSOLUTELY a naked guy on the roof of the Douglas Building and her story was simply bull....

Thank you for listening. And before I forget, I rarely walked around naked.

Where is My Bed Now?

Shush. Don't tell anybody. 

I left my loft, but my bed is still there. This is such a downtown story.

As all downtowners know - things just sort of show up when you need them. I believe it is a proven downtown karma fact. 

You need a purple wine glass - your neighbor has one. A big painting to cover the peeling paint on the wall - an artist friend comes over with one. Six chairs for a dinner party - voila - they are there. 

Stuff just shows up. I manifested all sorts of things in my loft. I never worried about it. I just knew - that I would be provided for with all sorts of WEIRD STUFF. And I was.

But what I didn't know was that I would be part of the cycle. The flow. The drama. The karma. Oh keep quiet Nancy, back to the story.

Well.....here's the short version of the long version. 

As most of you know, I moved ALL MY STUFF out of my loft into a new loft downstairs because my landlord was moving back in. New place turned out to be toxic. I lasted 10 days. The management guy told me that every day MY STUFF stayed in the unit he'd charge me. 

Panicked, scared, and tight on cash, I called my former landlord and screamed into my cell, "JULIO, JULIO, JULIO - I know you're planning to move into MY LOFT (the nerve, since it was his), but I need to move all my stuff back in. I promise I'll keep it there for only three days."

"Huh?" he said calmly. "I thought you had already moved out. Didn't I meet you for that?" "Yes, yes, yes, but I'm being poisoned and I've gotttttttttttt to get out of my new loft."

Knowing me for 16 months, a woman of her word, not a crazed maniac (even though I was acting pretty crazed), he said one word, "Okay."

Manna from the heavens. So, back I went, the way I came, and moved ALL MY STUFF back into the loft that I had moved out of 10 days earlier. I know, it's complicated. But it happened. Out, in, back in, out.

What a mess. Yada, yada, yada. And getting back to the short version - I got everything out in three days except my bed. My wonderful, comfy 15-year-old queen size bed. The one I wrote about in this post. The one in this picture.

And, why did I leave the bed? Because - A) I had no new place to move it to. B) I didn't have a car big enough to put it in. And....roll the drums, C) When I had met Julio right before I moved out (the first time) - he said with soul full eyes as he touched my bed - "Your bed seems soft and comfy. Did I tell you that I will be sleeping on an inflatable bed until I get my own bed?"

That was the clincher. The one that tugged at my old Pisces heart. The motive that really kept me from moving my bed (the second time). 

So when Julio finally moved in, he called me and said, "I noticed you left your bed." Basically, it was like noticing an elephant in a shed. "Perhaps, I can buy it from you." 

"No Julio - use it until I figure out where I'm moving to permanently. Right now, I'm sort of a gypsy."

It was then, that I realized that all this downtown "stuff just shows up" thing was really about paying it forward. To some one who needs it more than you. 

That's Julio in the top picture playing his guitar on my bed in his loft. Who knows when I'll get it back. I don't care.

Because it's not about "my bed." It's about showing up when it matters.