It’s spring, supposedly, and temperature-related questions abound: is it still cold and wet enough to wear multiple layers? Do you want ice in your drink? And why has your landlord already turned off the heat for the year?
Being a person with a body is so often a double-edged sword. It means enjoying ice cream and pizza, but also suffering, from time to time, the gastrointestinal consequences of that enjoyment. It means dancing, but also pulling muscles when you forget your stretch. Importantly, a life embodied means that the question of access to the resources you need to physically survive – and thrive – with dignity, is never far from mind either. This is true wherever you are, but in a city can take on an added sense of urgency. Rent, after all, is ultimately how much you can pay for shelter once you’ve paid for food.
This month, our contributors explore what it means to have and exist in a body as we walk around, look at the world, work, and take care of ourselves. Any survey like this could of course be endless in scale, and this issue in no way runs the gamut of what the flesh might confront or encounter. But hopefully something here offers insight into one element or another of moving and feeling in space, at least until we’re replaced by AI.
Thank you, as always, for reading.