Well, that's how The Observer felt when we watched the weirdly-captivating time-lapse video by Curbed videographer David Sherwin.

Mr. Sherman set up his camera in the recently-staged penthouse of Blue, a veritable temple of high-lowness on the Lower East Side, revered by New York Times architecture critic Nicolai Ouroussoff and Jersey Shore cast members alike.

The video captures the light coming into the big, sparsely-furnished space over the course of a rainy, cloudy day, eventually fading into night. It's lovely, and as the penthouse is unoccupied, no one drifts into view to spoil the fantasy. Thank you Curbed!

Maybe this day-in-the-life view will finally find persuade someone to move in? The penthouse first became available for rent in early April, after enduring a long and lonely wait on the market for $3.47 million (it was last listed for sale at $2.95 million in March).

You can see other views of the penthouse, although not at all the times of the day, here >>

But now we can say, with authority, that the space looks amazing morning, noon and night. Maybe it's time to embrace Eventup?

kvelsey@observer.com

Well, at least it's cheaper than the $40,000 to $60,000 per month that penthouse dwellers are being asked to pay in New York by Gehry.

However, as Curbed, which first reported Blue's penthouse listing noted, the Lower East Side condo tower has a less rarefied reputation than some other high-end real estate, appearing on both Jersey Shore and, reportedly, in an upcoming episode of Selling New York.

On the other hand, a little bit of grit is part of the building's, and the Lower East Side's, appeal. The tower of pixilated blue glass rising over the Lower East Side has earned accolades from the likes of Times architecture critic Nicolai Ouroussoff precisely because it's kind of weird and playful instead of self-consciously sophisticated.

"Encased in a matrix of blue panels, its contorted form has a hypnotic appeal that is firmly rooted in the gritty disorder of its surroundings. It reminds us that beauty and good taste are not always the same thing," Mr. Ouroussoff wrote of the building.

The building is savvy about its surroundings and suits the neighborhood, Mr. Ouroussof argues, at least as much as any luxury tower at Norfolk and Delancey streets could.

So what does $14,000 a month get you? Basically, ridiculous amounts of light and views of the three bridges and the Empire State Building from its sloping all-glass walls. Also included, according to the listing: "the feeling of the floating in the sky."  The downside? You'll only get 2-bedrooms (although we're sure they're beautiful!) and one of them comes with an en suite spa bath and a Zuma soaking tub.

And assuming the Village's explosive dining scene isn't too much of temptation, there is a really nice kitchen that includes a wine refrigerator, as well as a 375-square foot private terrace adjacent to the living room (if you're feeling social, you can also sunbathe on the building's 8,000-square feet of shared terraces).

And, for what it's worth, the owners might be willing to work out a bargain. As Curbed points out, until just a few weeks ago  the unit was listed for sale at $2.95 million, already a price reduction from the $3.47 million they were asking in 2006 before the building's completion.

kvelsey@observer.com

"With the glass walls, people, really needed help conceptualizing how to live in the space," said James Lansill, a senior managing director at Corcoran Sunshine.

A furnished model apartment is nothing new in real estate, but it was Mr. Ford's first such commission from a developer. He took it as a challenge of "warming up" what--despite the curves and unusual architecture--he said was "still a white box, so to speak."

The results were rooms with natural touches, from vintage furniture upholstered in natural linen to wool and silk rugs and rough-hewn wood. There are also tubular kitchen bar stools with seat covers made from very long-haired Mongolian lamb.

So basically, we have this very sleek, very Trek-y apartment--in a building where more than 80 percent of the units have sold--and to offload it, we have to "warm it up." Why wasn't something "warm" built in the first place? Why are so many of our buildings, in this most energetic of cities, suddenly so cold? This reminds The Observer of the fight over the lobby at Jean Nouvel's 100 11th Avenue, which also had to be "softened" by designer Jennifer Post--much to the dismay of Nouvel--even if the softening was done with some very expensive boulders.

Despite the craze begun last decade by Richard Meyer and his Perry Street lofts, which led to an invasion of glassy, office-park condos across the city, the throwback work of Robert A.M. Stern still outsells them all. Of the top selling apartments last year, all were either in old coops, new condos that looked like old coops or loft buildings and the assorted mansion.

Consider this exchange from this week's New York magazine, where critic Justin Davidson and a panel of architects and historians try to determine the city's Best Building Ever:

Bernard Tschumi: Every one of those buildings [the High Line, the New Museum] is a bad "citizen"--in a good way. Before 2000, everything was about being contextual, and buildings were supposed to be good citizens. And when somebody from out of town asked me what new architecture to see, I had a hard time giving them an answer. Now I can tell them about all these exciting new buildings that break the pattern and don't play the typical New York game of the podium with the tower on top. So suddenly we have buildings that no developer in their right mind would build- but they did.

[...]

Robert A.M. Stern: Well, the buildings that entertain Bernard's friends, who jet in from wherever, don't really make any contribution except as big art objects. The city can take them, but what are they telling us? They don't offer any new insights about how people live, or about the relationship to the street or to the sky. Just a new curtain wall, and a strange one at that. To be a good citizen is to work with the city and not against it.

While the rest of the eight panelists tended to disagree with Stern on this point, is it any surprise that all but two of them, who voted for the Whitney, determined that our greatest building of all time was none other than the nearly centutry-old Grand Central Terminal? Perhaps we are a bunch of old fuddy-duddies after all.

mchaban [at] observer.com | @mc_nyo

Simon, a recent Bennington graduate who makes video art, and who has black hair and a thick mustache, said he did. He had also mashed, strained and stripped a foul-smelling brew that would eventually be distilled into un-aged corn whiskey (or moonshine) or aged into bourbon.

This was late in the afternoon on a Saturday at the Kings County Distillery, which Mr. Haskell and his business partner, Colin Spoelman, registered in April under a farm distillery license, introduced into law by former governor Eliot Spitzer. The 325-square-foot space, situated on the second floor of a nondescript building not far from the English Kills creek, was heavy with the smell of yeast and simmering corn.

"One person has complained about the smell," said Mr. Spoelman, sitting on an oak barrel where bourbon has been aging since May. Mr. Spoelman, who grew up in Kentucky, works for the architecture firm Bernard Tschumi. "But it's an industrial building. People make products here. I think it smells nice. I come here after work, and I'm like, 'Ah. It's working.'"

There were, in the beginning, some problems.

"The floor leaks, so whenever someone spills a drop of water, it goes down to the landlord," said Mr. Spoelman.

"There are a lot of imported ties and dress shirts from China stored downstairs," said Mr. Haskell.

Mr. Haskell, who looks younger than 31, has curly brown hair and dark brown eyes. He is the more serious of the pair. Mr. Spoelman, also 31, is tall and cheerful with messy blond hair and a beard. Kings County Distillery, which the former Yale roommates funded with small investments from friends and family, is New York City's first since Prohibition, the kind of quirky accomplishment that put the partners in the hyper-artisanal Brooklyn landscape of small-batch, hand-labeled (theirs, with a typewriter found on a Williamsburg street), local-ingredient-using purveyors occupied by Mast Brothers chocolate, Brooklyn Brine pickles and Marlow & Daughters butchers. Naturally, their moonshine is served at the sister (brother?) establishment Marlow & Sons, as well as other hip local restaurants like Roberta's and Fette Sau. Meanwhile, Astor Wines and Spirits sells 128 of their 200-milliliter moonshine bottles a month, at $20 each. In November, the spirit will be served at the Modern, Danny Meyer's midtown restaurant.

"David is one of the old Marlow & Sons' core clientele. He's always supported us and I wanted to support him," said Jason Schwartz, a manager at Marlow, where the moonshine is mixed with vermouth and served in a $12 cocktail called the White Manhattan. "A lot of those white, un-aged whiskeys have a high tone to them that's difficult to the palate. Theirs is the most naturally sweet and delicate. I would have probably purchased it regardless."

They currently make two and a half gallons of the moonshine and bourbon a day. The bourbon, they hope, will be ready by December. "It's pretty clear to us that the bourbon will be a more popular product, but we need to make enough money with the moonshine to support the distillery in the meantime," said Mr. Haskell.

Since Mr. Haskell and Mr. Spoelman have day jobs, five helpers like Simon work day and night shifts, seven days a week.

"A lot of them are journalism students," said Mr. Spoelman.

"Some are in school," said Mr. Haskell, "Others were bartending and were sick of customer service. Some are drawn to the chemistry."

Speaking of those day jobs: Unlike magazines or even architecture, whiskey sales are always reliable. Could the distillery ever replace their primary careers? (When The Observer called Roberta's, in Bushwick, we reached an acquaintance, formerly an editor at a Condé Nast magazine.)

"My day job is a little dead-end," said Mr. Spoelman. "It's a cool job ... but ultimately there is a limit to how far I can go there. So, yes, I hope so."

Mr. Haskell smiled. "I hope so, too. For Colin. I love my job, and I don't want to leave it at all. I think of this as a business I've started on the side."

Since Hugo Lindgren and Lauren Kern left New York and landed at The New York Times Magazine, as editor in chief and deputy editor, respectively, Mr. Haskell has taken a more senior role on the masthead. Has it been difficult to run a distillery on weekends?

"Maybe a little," he said. "But then I look at colleagues at New York magazine who have kids." Mr. Spoelman started laughing before his friend finished. "And, it's like, that's such a stress. Every time I think, 'Can I manage two things at once?' I think how it's just sort of expected when someone pops out a baby and suddenly everyone has to breast-feed and get a babysitter who is puking or the baby is puking. All that stuff is more stressful than this." (Adam Moss, New York's editor, is aware of his employee's whiskey production. "He's curious about it," said Mr. Haskell. "He tasted an early version.")

Earlier, Mr. Haskell walked The Observer through the distillery process. After the corn is mashed and the barley and yeast are added, the porridge-like stew sits in large tubs for six days while the yeast eats the sugars and converts them into alcohol. "It sort of smells like bread. Then once the mash is ready to go, we strain out the solids with these laundry bags," he said, pointing to netted bags hanging by the window. (A farmer from the greenmarket comes by once a week and picks up the strained corn to use as feed for his pigs.)

The strained liquid is twice distilled in 28-liter stills (micro-distilleries typically use at least 400-litter stills), with the second run closely monitored in four phases: foreshots, heads, hearts and tales. "Foreshots is the first alcohol to come out, and that's basically the poison," said Mr. Haskell. "We use it as a disinfectant or a cleaning agent. Heads have a lot of flavor, but it's also the stuff that gives you hangovers, so you don't want too much of that. Then it goes into the hearts, which we keep, and at a certain point it goes into the tails, which we don't keep. The tails have a NutraSweet-y smell to them." Every distillery creates its own parameters for how much heads or tails is mixed with their hearts. "We're very conservative," he explained.  

Once the bourbon is fully aged, they plan to experiment with other whiskeys.

"We've been playing around with making rye, but it keeps burning to the bottom of the still," said Ms. Spoelman. "It's a very persnickety grain. We have other things in the works. ..."

"But not to be talked about," Mr. Haskell said.

"What if the tape recorder was off?" asked The Observer.

"Right," said Mr. Haskell. "So, off the record ..."

City Realty has an update on Blue, the 16-story, Bernard Tschumi-designed residential condo building at 105 Norfolk Street just off Delancey Street.

According to the Web site, the building will be topped out in May and will be ready for move-ins by the fall. Prices for the 32 units range from $745,000 to $3.95 million!

All this is happening just next door to Tonic, the avant-garde nightclub that frequently hosts musicians such as John Zorn and Marc Ribot. It's a curious juxtaposition of the building and the club: Will the Wall Street types stop by the club for a nightcap to the soothing sounds of Electric Masada or Painkiller? Or will the club start getting a lot of noise complaints?

-Matthew Grace