buh bye brooklyn

You were the best part of NYC for me.

These pics are just the tip of the iceberg of my sister's new hood in Cobble Hill... patisseries, indie book shops, boulangeries *everywhere*...sooo darling.

Happy settling Kasey!

midtown girl

right. so i'm living life mid-air right now. not quite here, not quite there. my belongings are in boxes on one continent, i'm across the atlantic looking at them from another. an atrium in my heart is tremulously balancing - teetering, really, on a grain of sand in a bankrupt western coastal state, while i'm waylaid in the hello-limbo tar pit of new york city, though my long-term future plans don't look to include either locale.

basically, i'm a homeless, bi-coastal, bi-continent, decision-straddling vagrant who is waiting.... waiting, as my friend said today, for something solid that i can place both feet on to appear. yes, that would be ideal or even as wishy-washy sounding as nice. but at least trying to hover over the unknown till something materializes shouting "me! step on me next!" till then, i'm nothing more than your common, everyday, living-on-good-graces squatter.

i've mostly imposed at my sister's apartment on the upper west side, but it's a bit of a literal and figurative war zone (not going to get into that) - she calls it baghdad. so fortunately, i've got the equivalent of switzerland on reserve as a place to put myself. have occasionally fled to my friend's ridiculously appointed midtown high rise as a quiet, air-conditioned, oasis of refuge. his pad is *quintessential* new york - what people mean when they say 'the big apple.'


sleek and polished with near-360-degree views.


taken from the balcony 50 floors up - it gives me the shakes to even put one foot on it.


ahhh... central park... surrounded and enshrouded in all its smoggy and dreary architectural glory. honestly, if there's one thing this stint has taught me, it's that even though i always thought i'd *eventually* end up in nyc, i actually don't think i could live here permanently - after london it's just too anonymously urban, too poorly executed, grimy, blah.....


though it looks better at night. which is when i tend to live anyway. so i ought to appreciate it, since i'm here.... until.......

twopenny island

On occasional weekends throughout the summer, New York's Governors Island transforms into a Jazz Age Lawn Party where fellas and flappers wistful for the Charleston era congregate to dance, peacock their retro duds and generally get swept up in the nostalgia for a roaring decade they never knew.

Kasey, Malena and I packed a gourmet picnic (and attempted at dressing up) and joined them.

1920's style tip: when you've got great socks, show them off.


Malena made this caramel apple masterpiece for the "pie bake-off." She won the Hobo's Choice prize - as in, the pie a hobo wouldn't be able to resist absconding with if he spied it cooling on a windowsill.


The Baby Vamps. (Available for bookings.)


This kid's going to be a foxtrotting maestro.

rash acts

late last night, while standing on the platform waiting for the A train to the upper west side... i nearly turned right around, headed to la guardia, and boarded a plane.



Photo is from Danish photojournalist Joachim Ladefoged's Shanghai 'Neon Revolution' photo essay. (Thanks much to Inge08 for pointing me in his direction!)

As Seen in Brooklyn

A tree does grow in Brooklyn!

I visited the NYC borough for the first time over the weekend, and while I won't be forsaking London for this up-and-coming neighborhood anytime soon, the following sites did catch my fancy. Enjoy!





The future site of the Anne Spice store?

Well, maybe, but right now it's a strange little "anti-perfume" gallery selling the scents of life.






Some of the smells are showcased next to objects that inspired them. And beside each little bottle is a lovely poetic verse describing its fragrant contents.









Next to "Winter 1972" it says:

Winter is a quiet time to watch the stars
And have hope

This scent contains the smells of new fallen snow, hand knit woolen mittens, ice covered forest and the frozen scent of sleeping spring . . .










I tried so desperately to capture this . . . imagine, hundreds of those Styrofoam packing chips swirling in the wind.



It was magical (even though it was garbage).