New York’s got quite the reputation as a city of artists, yet I wonder if it’s deserved anymore. I read Just Kids and Patti Smith made being an artist in New York during the sixties sound so easy. She and Robert Mapplethorpe seemed to bump into tastemakers every single day. It didn’t seem like their talent played into their stardom. They both just happened to benefit from serendipity and the networking of the Chelsea Hotel. One could get a month in this room in exchange for art and the Village was not the NYU-controlled mass it is now. It had a grit that’s only hinted at now. While the “I Heart NY” campaign undoubtedly did much good for our city, I can’t help but feel it also had a hand in dispersing the creative community. Artists don’t live here unless they’re established or are living on their parents’ dime.  The Chelsea still stands but it is now a monument to creative spirit instead of a roost in which to foster it.Bob Dylan will never walk into CBGB’s again. It’s been replaced by a designer store. One can’t help but chuckle at the irony. I’d love to see this city of Art rise once again, but it’s clear Manhattan can no longer be its cradle. One of the outer boroughs will have to carry that torch to bring NYC back to her creative past.