Click through these photos for an overview of the site.
"A Very Fine Line: A Brooklyn Artist Free-Associates on Her Walls," a profile of Shantell Martin in her Bed-Stuy home on the cover of the Home section. Photos by Trevor Tondro.
"The Quest to Save LA's Century-Old Batchelder Tile Masterpiece," a 4,000-word feature (and a top-read piece on the site) about a shuttered historic landmark featuring perhaps the most significant interior architecture in the city. Photo by Elizabeth Daniels.
Homebodies in Nylon was a column based on the blog of the same name and featured eccentric people in their environments, such as collage artist Judith Supine in Brooklyn. Photo by Eric Helgas.
"Painting with Fire," an interview with encaustic painter, Betsy Eby. Pictured is Sanguine II.
"After a Suicide, the Search," an essay related to themes explored in a memoir-in-progress.
Forthcoming is a book on Robert DeNiro's Greenwich Hotel in Tribeca. Pictured are notes from an interview with Axel Vervoordt, who designed the penthouse.
Seventh-graders at I.S. 392 in Brownsville, Brooklyn, find their first published works in the printed anthology. T&W teaching-artist residencies from 2010 to 2017 involved poetry, song lyrics, and creative nonfiction. A lesson plan on synesthesia looks at the works of Jimi Hendrix and Arthur Rimbaud.
Liz Arnold was featured in the "Innovation" issue of WSJ. Magazine for using Genius.com in the classroom, where she taught the intersection of poetry and song lyrics through a residency from Teachers & Writers Collaborative.
"How This Half Lives," by Mark Rozzo, on the then-new trend of reporting on un-styled homes, included Homebodies along with The Selby and Apartamento.
"Arnold’s descriptions of domestic effluvia read like captions for an interiors magazine that she believes could never exist in a world that encourages aspirational 'self-improvement through objects': 'An iPod is hooked up to a Tivoli near the nub of a mostly eaten carrot'; 'This is where the ambiguously employed trio keeps a breast implant on the counter to use as a paperweight.'"