A Different Thought

We (My parents and my grandmother included) relocated to a fairly quiet area of the Bronx when I was about 12 years old. Due to the circumstances at the time with my parents living in a small apartment, I was given the option of moving into an apartment in this building with my grandmother. One of the benefits was having my own room as an adolescent which included a sorrowful series of ongoing interests that varied month by month. I attempted to learn to play drums though I was rejected by most of the building tenants and neighbors. I eventually encountered an elderly neighbor who disliked the sound of the drums enough to constantly notify the building management. Nevertheless it was here where I began to discover the existence of music and developed a more serious interest in photography. 
I dwelled in this space throughout high school and college, and more than likely constantly challenged my grandmother's patience with loud music, drums, eccentric friends, unusual attempts at "interior decoration."