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love [remixed by ta-ku] | daughter dare me? fine - more daugther...

Wed, 22 May 2013 17:18:29 -0400

love [remixed by ta-ku] | daughter

dare me? fine - more daugther - get after this. my goodness.!

between two hands. shibori goodness. |...

Wed, 22 May 2013 09:29:00 -0400

between two hands. shibori goodness. | via designed-for-life: awelltraveledwoman

forever | julianna barwick wow. always and forever,...

Mon, 20 May 2013 02:45:37 -0400

forever | julianna barwick

wow. always and forever, julianna. this moves, you will move …

the beautiful centerpiece is elle, elle luna. a dear - in a new...

Mon, 20 May 2013 02:37:00 -0400

the beautiful centerpiece is elle, elle luna. a dear - in a new way - friend. i’ll keep it simple, i couldn’t be more proud of her. weeks after leaving her job as lead designer for an app you’re likely using - to paint full time - she decided to take a bigger leap - her first solo show. this only happens once and she’s pulling it off with aggressive deadlines. but that’s elle! she moves, she’s decisive, she gets things done. if you’re in SF, you’d be crazy [as in please don’t miss her show] not to visit her pop up at the ian ross gallery on thursday may 24 at 7pm. get there!

the poem is about the heart. not the heart as in “i’m in love” or “my girl cheated on me”—i mean the...

Mon, 20 May 2013 00:54:00 -0400

the poem is about the heart. not the heart as in “i’m in love” or “my girl cheated on me”—i mean the conscious heart, the fact that we are the only things in the entire universe that know true consciousness. we’re the only things—leaving religion out of it—we’re the only things in the world that know spring is coming. we’re the only things in the world that know spring is coming. i love the imagery there. i love the idea of knowing there is life on the other side of winter. no matter where you are, what you’re going through, what you are feeling, etc, etc, there is life on the other side of it. spring is coming.

- jack gilbert, spring is coming | via jarrettfuller [emphasis mine]

a summer kid, i’d say. always summer. but this year i’ve realized that spring is my season and has been since that spring on martha’s vineyard with my nana, helen. we moved out there to live at one of my aunt’s homes in lambert’s cove. the rolling hills, sweet ocean smells, the horses [damn fine creatures], the blossoms, Oh The Blossoms. that was the year that i learned the order in which the colors appeared. we needed color, something new each day to brighter her last days. it was inevitable but when was the question. when hovered and at times lingered on the tip of my tongue. but i never mentioned it to anyone. not a single person. it was life as usual on the island. camp with nana, i’d say. and boy did we have fun as we wrote the last chapter of her life, together. [that’s what i told 300 of her closest friends the following september as i stood up there in red not black because she didn’t get to wear that red dress for her 80th birthday. so i did. for her, for us, for love.] i easily assumed the role of gardener and cook because she was the very best teacher. she must have known all those years that her quiet yet consistent lessons were teaching me to - eventually - take care of her. during the first week away from the nursing home, her shoulders lowered for the first time in her life after raising 5 kids on her own. she didn’t know my name, but she knew that she knew me. she knew that i was her friend. she called me pretty girl, i didn’t mind at all. she knew that i would greet her every morning with a cup of juice as i opened the curtains to reveal sun or rain - which didn’t matter - because the birds were always there to entertain. we would talk a little bit while holding hands. she was chatty in the mornings about nothing and everything. the simple conversations were profound. she was - in her way - saying goodbye a little bit each day … to me, to the world. and then breakfast, always warm cornbread muffins baked with fresh berries from the farmers market. and don’t forget the butter - never measured, nothing was. she taught me the art of handling food with care, with love. it was all about handfuls, pinches, dashes, splashes and always mix with your hands. get in there with your hands, she’d say, that’s the secret. probably the best secret anyone has confided in me. spring feels like my nana. graceful yet determined. beautiful.

let’s sit here. oval saddle leather chair by garza...

Mon, 20 May 2013 00:00:31 -0400

let’s sit here. oval saddle leather chair by garza furniture | via youmightfindyourself

by jenny holzer | via kateoplis

Tue, 14 May 2013 01:49:19 -0400

by jenny holzer | via kateoplis

wisdom from my fearless muse. - elleluna [my fearless friend]

Wed, 01 May 2013 22:02:29 -0400

wisdom from my fearless muse. - elleluna [my fearless friend]

shallows | daughter gorgeous, as always. from if you leave.

Tue, 30 Apr 2013 01:17:29 -0400

shallows | daughter

gorgeous, as always. from if you leave.

posture + gaze. nina donis ss 2013. |...

Mon, 29 Apr 2013 22:12:00 -0400

posture + gaze. nina donis ss 2013. | via filomenasmarket: harveyfaircloth

replica | oneohtrix point never [revisiting + on repeat]...

Mon, 29 Apr 2013 22:00:00 -0400

replica | oneohtrix point never

[revisiting + on repeat] there’s a wall that divides my kitchen and living room with an opening at both ends. great flow, i said first time i climbed the 5 flights to see it. i’ll take it. a deposit check signed, a sunny walk back to my office in harvard square. proximity was/is key. mission accomplished. a pattern often traced from the kitchen through the entryway to my bedroom or bathroom. the other end opens into my living room with a view of the boston skyline [second selling point] from the zakim bridge to kenmore square. if you know boston, you’re probably wondering how? and then wow, really? there’s a comfortable sofa that takes up just enough space but i prefer sit in the window. i wonder about the stories. there are so many. french lentils with a torn piece of kombu + chopped dried figs + a dash of ground clove simmering on the stovetop. greens sweating in combination of miso + tahini + orange juice blended with cayenne. raw goat’s milk cheese, waiting. bare feet on hardwood making circles or ovals? rectangles is more like it. in and out of the openings, up and down. a monday evening supper dance …

no one wants to live in fear. i’ve always been scared of saying the wrong thing. i don’t...

Mon, 29 Apr 2013 21:33:00 -0400

no one wants to live in fear. i’ve always been scared of saying the wrong thing. i don’t sleep well. i never have. but each time i tell another person, i feel stronger and sleep a little more soundly. it takes an enormous amount of energy to guard such a big secret. i’ve endured years of misery and gone to enormous lengths to live a lie. i was certain that my world would fall apart if anyone knew. and yet when i acknowledged my sexuality i felt whole for the first time.

- jason collins, on being gay | via sportsillustrated [emphasis mine]

to whole the halves. to live more fully.

suddenly, i realized where i was standing. black, boarded up windows for two stories. a single...

Mon, 29 Apr 2013 20:33:00 -0400

suddenly, i realized where i was standing. black, boarded up windows for two stories.

a single bouquet laid still wrapped, looking more like they had been forgotten there than left as an offering.

a woman clad in black running gear raised her arms over her head as she yelled a tired cheer, a friend filming her crossing of the finish line. her do-over on a warm spring boston dusk. i might have been the only spectator. it felt like a prayer. it felt like an answer to a question i didn’t know how to ask. she kept running.

- @jennymack on a female runner crossing the boston marathon finish line

i was thinking about my friends today. the dear ones. the special few. the loyal companions. jenny was included. she is one of my first twitter-turned-real-life friends. we met online during the early days of twitter and tried to meet a few times in real life but it never worked because one or the other would reschedule. you know how it goes. oh but then the first twestival. do you remember? probably not. we would meet there, finally. only we didn’t because it was shoulder-to-shoulder packed. a few days later pictures were posted to flickr, tagged and circulated on twitter. wait, what? we met! a tweet to jenny. we were standing next to each other in a picture. like i said shoulder-to-shoulder. we’re all connected.

childhood’s end | majical cloudz | via headunderwater wow...

Sat, 27 Apr 2013 23:16:51 -0400

childhood’s end | majical cloudz | via headunderwater

wow - gets in there … powerful + stunning.

a lovely mess. inside faile studio. by jamie beck

Fri, 26 Apr 2013 22:05:54 -0400

a lovely mess. inside faile studio. by jamie beck

revisiting. because less than 3 seconds ago, i hit send on a...

Fri, 26 Apr 2013 00:28:00 -0400

revisiting. because less than 3 seconds ago, i hit send on a note to a friend. it was long, with many stories woven. included was a description of my living room: not too many “things” with neat stacks of books and art. nothing on the walls. ever. save for one mirror that oscar - world’s greatest handman - drilled through brick for 20 minutes to hang for me. worth every penny of the $40 and turns out he likes chilled herbal tea. we were both surprised. secret: maple syrup instead of honey. | via solitaire-solidaire

i found this. for you. offering. | via lalatomtom: tarafirma

Wed, 24 Apr 2013 01:17:00 -0400

i found this. for you. offering. | via lalatomtom: tarafirma

us not them | margaret glaspy soulful. a few sunday mornings...

Tue, 23 Apr 2013 23:38:00 -0400

us not them | margaret glaspy

soulful. a few sunday mornings ago or maybe it was more like 5 or 6. none of that really matters. i was sitting in the hallway outside my apartment tying my running shoes, anxious to get out there even though it was damn cold. there’s nothing like that first inhale outside. the one that clears out recycled indoor air and prepares my lungs to - Move. likely along the river. shoes tied, playlist selected for runkeeper, headphones on, gloves on - check. ready to go until i wasn’t because my goodness what is he listening to. my across-the-hall neighborhood. her voice loud enough to make me want more. short of knocking on his door, i decided it would be less ~~stalker-like~~ intrusive to hold my iphone to his door hoping that soundhound would capture enough of the music to tell me who was playing. i know, stalker-like, right? well, whatever, i tried a few times. nothing. so i went out for a run feeling somewhat defeated. i rarely see this guy. maybe once a month. should i leave a note on his door? no. stop it! these one-way conversations typically don’t yield satisfactory results. so it’s a good thing that i saw him that night. oh hey, what were you listening to this morning? ah … oh it wasn’t too loud, i liked it that’s why i’m asking. oh, margaret glaspy. glaspy with a P not B. great, thanks! and just as i was about to walk away with that i won feeling [my game, not his], he said yea, i saw her play last night in harvard square. damn it, didn’t see that one coming. i settled on half defeat. i shared the story with margaret today when i purchased homeschool - the ep. it made her day. win.

colors + light + shapes. goodness. | via mattlehrer

Tue, 23 Apr 2013 22:48:00 -0400

colors + light + shapes. goodness. | via mattlehrer

a morning run is the best thing i can do for myself because no...

Tue, 23 Apr 2013 22:46:00 -0400

a morning run is the best thing i can do for myself because no matter what happens after the run - which might be out of my control - at least it started on the right foot. moving. fast or slow. get after it.! | via icanread: charliebravo