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She’s pigeon toed.
I watch, speedwalking 20 feet behind her, as her leopard print ballet slippers plod one after the other, slightly awkward with the angle at which they turn in. And though I have known this for quiet sometime, it does not stop me from feeling mildly surprising each time I see her. It plays [...]
448
It always strikes me, standing over the sink, how the kitchen windows look across a courtyard into other kitchens. One above the other, all the shades open. A modern one with sleek dark colored woods and long silver fixtures lining the bottoms, above a white one that looks like something out of a country house, [...]
447
Usually, the first thing I notice as I walk into her office, is her hair. All brown gray wiryness pulled back away from her face with a clip at the top and secured again at the nape of her neck with a hair band. The end of her pony tail hangs puffily down her back [...]
lovers in the city
I fall in love every morning,
And am heartbroken by noon.
Not having learned to be careful,
I keep the most delicate parts of me exposed.
It isn’t exhibitionism that drives me,
I simply don’t know other ways of being.
repetition*
Those without stories are preordained to repeat them,
I saw once in the stars.
. . . . . . . . . . Unclear who underwrote that,
But since then I’ve seen it everywhere
I’ve looked, staggering
Noon light and night’s meridian wandering wide and the single sky.
And here it is in the meadow grass, a brutish script.
We [...]
this is where we live
This Is Where We Live from 4th Estate on Vimeo.
i’m back
Back to NYC, maybe both literally and figuratively, blogging without the wine haze. Back from babyville and the threat of sudden suburban domestication.
Maybe it was all the recent life changes that made me as impressionable as an adolescent school girl (all the more reason to not fraternize with people under the age of four), but I’m [...]
so this is christmas
I’m home, which has been strangely wonderful. Strange because my mother is missing from the picture… and I feel for better or worse, it’s OUR (my brothet and i) Christmas. We made a whole big dinner, two pies, a cake, and chocolate chip, oatmeal and raisin cookies. There are presents under the tree, despite our [...]
winter memories
Maybe because I’ve wriiten so much about summer or maybe it just stems from trying to conjur up a few things to love about New York winters, which I always find a bit difficult and trying. I started thinking back to my first winter here and by association, my first holiday season, not so much [...]
the pumpkin guy
He sits in a small musty room behind the exhibit that smells like sweat and despiration. We talk for five minutes and I feel held hostage, despite the fact that he’s very nice. The right side of his face is slightly limp, like that of a stroke victim and his watermelon carving of frida kahlo [...]
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