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Where Have All the Art Kids Gone? (Savannah, Apparently)

Fancying myself a 21st-century Tacitus, I document for you, reader, and for annals of history, my weekend in Fist City.
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This is a dispatch from Trap Mansion, home of my friends, in the Coastal Empire also known as Savannah, Georgia. I -- a New Yorker, a Yankee, a scrappy carpetbagger -- came here to flee the creative desert that is millennial Brooklyn in an attempt to find a place where seeds could be planted. Fancying myself a 21st-century Tacitus, I document for you, reader, and for annals of history, my weekend in Fist City.

I heard word from fellow writers and recently renounced Brooklynite friends, that Savannah was "happenin." My buddies John Swisher and Mike Brown live, along with Olivia (Swisher's older sister) in the Lucas Mansion, which they've deemed the Trap Mansion. The Trap Mansion is a five-bedroom, four-bathroom house that costs about the same amount as a small studio in downtown Manhattan. They have two electric organs, a backyard, two cats and one blind dog.

To read the full story, head to Opening Ceremony's blog.