a place to share my thoughts, my adventures, with my family and friends, near and far...
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Monday, May 30, 2011
milk & roses
so I'm a bit slow to learn about my own 'hood... but this morning, thanks to a friend, I discovered Milk and Roses, just a few blocks from me. It is perhaps, one of the most perfect cafe/wine bars I have been in a long time. Rustic beauty, huge wall of books, a rag time piano and a garden with roses. What more can you ask for?
Sunday, May 29, 2011
loving this Todd Colby poem this morning...
Tough Pucky
In this yellow morning
a ton of glow
because spring light
is just so, gosh.
More coffee
in Brooklyn please.
More lemons
and the cascade
of city and sky.
Some implied amber
and then dot, dot, dot
and kiss, kiss, kiss.
Tough Pucky
In this yellow morning
a ton of glow
because spring light
is just so, gosh.
More coffee
in Brooklyn please.
More lemons
and the cascade
of city and sky.
Some implied amber
and then dot, dot, dot
and kiss, kiss, kiss.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Sunday, May 22, 2011
spring
I've had the pleasure this spring of being assigned to several beautiful floral photo shoots, working with amazing florists such as Sarah of Saipua, Ariella Chezar and Claire Marie along with the very talented photographer Ngoc Minh Ngo. Here are a series of polaroid's that I took inspired by the season...
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
to love your questions
I touch my lips and think of your words gliding across them
with a succulent fullness of breath and tongue.
Where this lustful desire catches reason by the throat and softens
it’s grip on the page.
My mind seeks virtue and my body is on fire,
And the heart wavers between the two.
Somewhere you stand or sit at a digital distance
with letters between us
I could open myself at a moment’s click.
My fair-haired friend, my noble intentions in duel
with lascivious enrapture.
And where last night’s wine flowed so did my blood in a crimson tide
till thoughts became movements and movements my being.
with a succulent fullness of breath and tongue.
Where this lustful desire catches reason by the throat and softens
it’s grip on the page.
My mind seeks virtue and my body is on fire,
And the heart wavers between the two.
Somewhere you stand or sit at a digital distance
with letters between us
I could open myself at a moment’s click.
My fair-haired friend, my noble intentions in duel
with lascivious enrapture.
And where last night’s wine flowed so did my blood in a crimson tide
till thoughts became movements and movements my being.
growing up
I think of the war children
all of them walking through the weedy future fields.
The young man riding on the university’s back with an already worn out saddle
he holds on to because his mother and father are gone,
gone with the dust of the shoah.
The small dark haired girl snatched from her parents who were never there.
All she knows is loneliness down Helvetica’s roads as she clings to her braids and cradles them likes dolls.
These youths I carry upon me, relics of my own being...
For me they gave bourgeois comfort, the past smoothed out in barbies and down comforters, morning orange juice and shiny new shoes.
They wondered why I suffered in my innocence.
And as I tuck my little ones to bed at night,
I think of the war children and gently pull the covers under their chins
and kiss them goodnight.
all of them walking through the weedy future fields.
The young man riding on the university’s back with an already worn out saddle
he holds on to because his mother and father are gone,
gone with the dust of the shoah.
The small dark haired girl snatched from her parents who were never there.
All she knows is loneliness down Helvetica’s roads as she clings to her braids and cradles them likes dolls.
These youths I carry upon me, relics of my own being...
For me they gave bourgeois comfort, the past smoothed out in barbies and down comforters, morning orange juice and shiny new shoes.
They wondered why I suffered in my innocence.
And as I tuck my little ones to bed at night,
I think of the war children and gently pull the covers under their chins
and kiss them goodnight.
Monday, May 16, 2011
west elm
I have a little feeling that the beautiful Vanessa H is behind this new lovely video for west elm
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
reflection on cherries
5: sitting in a cherry tree with one of my first friends, hands bloodied with red juice, fruit hanging from our ears, mouths filled with sweetness
7: solitude under a wild cherry tree, pink petals and green buds
11: wicker basket around my waist with hands full of blackened and over ripe fruit to make kirsch
15: listening to Juliette Greco's Les Temps de Cerises
20: biking through mountain roads coated in pink blossoms swirling in the breeze
25: Chicago cherries on the porch
32: Chapel de Luins surrounded in new blooms, looking over the lake of Geneva
34: Sakura Matsuri
37: my children in the sun on the kitchen floor eating cherries
40: cherry blossoms and letters...
Monday, May 9, 2011
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
my favorite monologue in film
"Loneliness means I am finally whole. Now I can say it...as tonight, I am at last alone. "
Sunday, May 1, 2011
11 for this weekend
1. the film Incendies (incredible-see previous post)
2. serendipity
3. eagle street roof top farm
4. 4 course vegan dinner
5. sharing moules frites in fort greene
6. ironing and the beauty of the mundane
7. naps
8. pink dogwood
9. philosophy and red wine
10. dancing on long tables in open spaces
11. rolled up jeans
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