Itʼs not just anywhere where one can wake up to a cork ceiling that was, decades ago, used to keep meat carcasses from spoiling. Sleepy-eyed, I would step from my bed onto the unpolished concrete floor, pass by the white, uneven concrete walls, and walk into the kitchen to make myself a few cups of coffee. So began my day at Blue Star Lofts.
This former meat freezer would have been a hard sell for the most talented of real estate agents anywhere else. No dishwasher: check. No storage: check. This place forced me to get creative (and quick to wash dishes). But this place is located at Blue Star, what many consider the epicenter of creativity in San Antonio. The loftʼs amenities, or lack thereof, were an afterthought when the culture of the area is a marriage of art, food, and elixirs. I couldnʼt have been happier.
Appalled at what I paid in rent, friends from other neighborhoods never understood my “quality of life” rationalization until they visited and saw that on any given night, I could step outside of my apartment and walk twenty feet to 1919 and Joe Blueʼs to meet up with neighbors, “Cheers“-style.
Artists, musicians, architects, oil-and-gas guys; my neighbors were an interesting concoction of people.
Sometimes on the walk over, I could make a pit stop at Cinnabar for an art exhibit, usually running into friends and following up with dinner, a decision usually difficult to make given the plethora of area restaurants (Liberty Bar, La Tuna, Blue Star Brewery, Tito’s, Hot Joy, and more).
Iʼd take my skeptical friends to my Zen spot on the river: a rocky makeshift bridge where Iʼd go sit and think, surrounded by water and ducks. Dog-walking, bicycles, a walk to Halcyon for coffee. As a friend of mine said, “I feel like Iʼve arrived to the mothership.” Quality of life, indeed.
So when my sister told me she was leaving downtownʼs Vistana and found a two-bedroom condo at South End Lofts – two blocks down from Blue Star (see top image) – I decided to make the move, as weʼd been talking about living together and Iʼd be a mere two blocks away from “the mothership.”
Also in keeping with the areaʼs reused spirit, South End Lofts was originally a chandelier parts manufacturer and a lumber company distribution center. Architects kept details particular to the original building, such as the massive scale in the middle of my living room that once weighed packages more than 1000 pounds; I now look at it as a sort of functional installation art piece. White, exposed brick walls, a dream kitchen (dishwasher included), concrete floors, and an open living space: Iʼm obsessed.
While an art gallery isnʼt 10 feet from my loft anymore, life is much the same. I still get on my bike on a beautiful Sunday afternoon and ride to Feast for some “Eggs from Hell” and mimosas, only to continue the day surrounded by dogs and fellow beer lovers at The Friendly Spot.
First Thursday, First Friday, and Second Saturday are still almost literally outside my door, whereas they were literally outside my door at Blue Star. The lifestyle changes are miniscule. The most important thing is that my neighborhood and culture never changed. And that is exactly why Iʼve never been happier.
*Featured/top image: South End Lofts, as seen from West Peden Alley. Photo by Adrian Ramirez.