Author: ruhlwrite

She’s a real estate lawyer.He’s a personal trainer. Apostolis and Despina are the owners of FORTE. Together, they are FORTE.  The name of their newly opened fitness and recovery center, in all caps, signifies strength. Of the whole body. Of the whole mind. Of the whole soul. Despina Manoloudas, a toned woman whose bouncy dark hair is done up in a half ponytail, met Apostolis Bacalis, a muscle man with tatted sleeves, shaved head and dark, brooding eyes, nearly eight years…

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The felines Farrah and Ferris are sunning themselves on the front counter at Modern Vet Care, while Wesley, the perky Pomeranian, is peeking curiously out of a gated examination room. Emily’s the veterinarian at Modern Vet Care. When Emily Ehmann, the veterinarian, walks in the front door, Farrah, the black and white cat, and Ferris, the light-brown purring machine, leap from their perch to her feet, curling themselves around her legs. Modern Vet Care is new – it opened at the end…

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What can you say about a guy who plays hockey and the piano? Who’s just as comfortable with Bach and Beethoven as he is with boilers? Greg is a self-described Renaissance man. Let’s allow Greg Post’s fingers to explain it all to us. Greg, whose long black hair is tied back in a man bun that’s comfortable but just enough imperfect to be perfect, sits down at the grand piano. He flexes his fingers.  He’s just come in from the cold, so he limbers up with Rimsky-Korsakov’s…

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Bring a knife. Meet me at the back of the house in the garage. This sounds a little strange, but, OK, I’ll go along with it. Jason Wilkinson, the guy with a knife. A tall bearded dude with brooding brown eyes rolls up the door and offers his hand in greeting – or does he simply want me to surrender my knife? The garage, illuminated by a series of clip-on lamps that cast eerie shadows, has two stainless steel surgical-looking work tables. There’s a Triumph Bonneville opposite…

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It’s a glorious morning in Astoria Park, so Anna Tsoukala celebrates by bursting into song. Anna is an actress and singer. Her voice – “Sometimes I feel like a motherless child, Sometimes I feel like a motherless child … A long way from home, a long way from home” – pierces the somnolent silence, shaking the sunlight and floating over the East River like a rose petal in the wind. It’s just a traditional tune, a spiritual, yet there’s something in her choice that resonates…

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