citylikeyou — My Couch — New York by Patrick Jacobs

New York / Place

Long afternoon naps rarely happen here, sadly. But I never stop fantasizing.

Address
My Couch, 75 Ocean Avenue, 2G, Brooklyn, New York, United States

Current city: New York

Patrick Jacobs lives and works in Brooklyn, New York. He studied art at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago and is represented by Pierogi Gallery in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. His work, including sculpture, photography and video, is often characterized by a kind of pseudo-science or homespun natural phenomena. “When one settles down to a new home, they immediately set out to discover those things which captivate and hold meaning for them. I moved to Brooklyn, New York in 1999 and twelve years later, I’m still writing my own personal travel guide of the city’s unlimited attractions and temptations.”

More Places in New York 452

New York / Beach

Only a 40-minute subway ride from my apartment and a world unto itself, Coney Island is always a new experience and like seaside weather, it’s always different. I stumbled upon this kite festival one grey fall afternoon. Other visits have yielded dance parties on the boardwalk, roller coaster rides, shandies in plastic cups on the beach, a trip to "Little Odessa", and a myriad of interesting characters and experiences.

New York / Music Venue

An experiential event series dedicated to working with artists to bring new ecologies to architecturally unique spaces through transcendent audio and visual performance.

New York / Beach

I like coming down here with friends when the weather permits and drinking on the beach or on the rocks when the tides come in.

New York / Museum

I remember when I saw Shadows, by Andy Warhol in that big room. I was sitting in a sofa, and felt asleep. When I woke up it felt incredible. When my friends come to visit me it's a place where I like to go all together.

New York / Transport

Coming back from from New Haven, we got off at Grand Central and he took me down one of the concourses to the place with the vaulted ceiling. He stood at one corner and I stood at another and we whispered into the walls, our voices drifting across to each other.