Bang!

Greek Spiced Baked Shrimp

2010-12-12T12:04:00.012-05:00

Decided to try a very different recipe the other night and it turned out pretty well. It's really easy to put together as well. Interestingly spicy and warm--perfect for a winter's night.

Here's the recipe:

Preheat oven to 375°F.

Start by chopping 1 medium onion and 2 garlic cloves and adding them to a warm pan with about 3 tablespoons of extra-virgin olive oil. Add 1/4 tsp of salt. Saute until clear, about 5 minutes.

Add 1/2 teaspoon hot red-pepper flakes, 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon, and 1/4 teaspoon ground allspice to the onions and mix well, about 30 seconds.

Chop one (28-ounce) can of whole tomatoes in juice, drained, but reserving the juice. Add these with a moderate amount of juice and a pinch of sugar. Allow to simmer, uncovered, stirring occasionally, until slightly thickened, about 20 minutes. Remove from heat.

Season 1 1/2 pounds of fresh or well thawed and drained large peeled and deveined shrimp and then stir into the tomato sauce.

Transfer to a 2-quart shallow baking dish and add 1/4 pound (2/3 cup) of feta, crumbled.

Put in oven and bake until just cooked through, 18 to 20 minutes.

Serve with crusty bread or steamed brown rice and a green salad. We served it with some sauteed green beans. Enjoy!!!

Afternoon at the dog park.

2010-11-28T18:07:00.004-05:00

Razzle Dazzle.

2010-11-28T11:07:00.008-05:00

Finally, after eight or so years of taking photos on film, I broke down and bought myself a Canon t2i DSLR. I've had it for two and a half days and am already enthralled.

It's been a long time coming.

Here's some fun we had last night at the Grant Cutler and the Gorgeous Lords show at the Varsity Theater in Minneapolis. Nice, open, mellow space with some good sound and even better lighting. It fit the mood of the music perfectly.

Harvest Time

2010-10-23T18:16:00.002-04:00

Cooking and comfort food is what this season is all about. Warming oneself up to brace against the chill of the environment. For that reason, I have been continually replenishing my cup with hot coffee and spiced teas and for that reason, stalking all types of cooking blogs. Here is an adorable Latvian one.
We are visual creatures as well, which is why I watch this modern Latvian cooking show every Sunday.
For my crafty English-speaking friends I favor Craft Magazine for creative ideas and of course, Martha Stewart for the downright classic.
Good eats!

Ah-mazing.

2010-09-26T14:15:00.002-04:00

Yeah, it's been a while.

Saw this and it inspired me so, I just have to repost it. Check out the Provakateur blog. These guys are on to some really good design without throwing away their conscience. Add in a little cheekiness, and you've got the perfect package.

Fired up.

2010-08-08T15:07:00.005-04:00

I tell you, it's becoming harder and harder to know what's in what you buy these days. It seems that around every corner there is new information that comes to light that impacts my purchases. Recently, I was thoroughly exasperated when one of my all time faves, Target, recently decided they would jump into the political contributions game (don't think that my devotion is that unwavering).
But in a bind, I always look for a positive solution. And it seems that there's a new wave of wonderfully awesome, beautiful, and socially conscious women out there who share how to navigate these things without having to live in a burlap sack, as my sister would say. Here are a couple of my favorites:
No More Dirty Looks is a couple of gals I've started to follow. Who knew that we were absorbing thousands of chemicals every day through our cosmetics and that the majority of these ingredients are never tested for safety? (Who do they think we are? Mindless drones?) Anyway, these two beauties make figuring out how to be natural with your cosmetics fairly effortless. And, admit it, what girl hasn't wanted to play around with making her own makeup? Summer soup to keep that skin fresh? Yes, please!
This comes after picking up a used copy of Gorgeously Green at Half-Price books--an easy read with a plethora of painless clean-up-your-act suggestions that you can decide to do at any pace you feel comfortable with. Now, the author Sophie is posting her own videos of how to make commonly purchased household items fast and green on her website. Sunscreen? Check. Household cleaners? Check. Even the luxurious extras we've come to expect in our lives, like face masks and expensive moisturizers. Check and check, minus the cost and the yucky stuff.
Add to this Craft and others who make DIY not only easy, but stylish, and you've got yourself on a roll.
Love--it.
The point is: knowing my stuff is better for me and for everyone else around me makes sense and also makes me feel good.
What are your suggestions?

Botany of Desire

2010-07-18T17:02:00.007-04:00

Before Michael Pollen became nationally known for his best-selling book, The Omnivore's Dilemma, he was just a good journalist who wrote interesting things about how we as humans interact with nature. One of his fantastic works was 2002's "The Botany of Desire," a look into how four plants: apples, tulips, marijuana, and potatoes, evolved with humans to use us just as much as we use them. Now, the wonderful folks over at PBS are broadcasting a documentary based on the book. Those in the Twin Cities can catch it on TPT next Wednesday, July 28th at 8:30pm.

YES, YES, YES.

2010-07-16T15:47:00.002-04:00

Wish I was in NY. Patiently waiting until September... Official website

Happy Friday!

2010-07-16T12:00:00.002-04:00

We bury our secrets in the garden.

2010-07-13T11:52:00.016-04:00

I am writing to you all after another busy week. The newest project has been to do a little more research on the family tree. Truth be told, it was originally much more about looking into Dallas' history, since I am fascinated by the fact that his family has been in this country around the same area for an extraordinary amount of generations. Being that my family were more recent immigrants, I thought that I knew all there was to know--I have information about almost all of the lines all the way back to their original country of origin, meaning that I've gone about as far as you can go without travelling to find more records. But I was proven wrong...by a large margin. Case in point--there is much more to know about the McLaughlins. Maija had experimented with a free trial of Ancestry.com and found some good stuff, enough to get me inspired, but I knew one place I could go to get real meat, and that was the Conway clan up in Canada. We had come across my great-grandmother's relatives by accident in the ancient days of the internet, but this time I was given a full-blown report--eight generations back (That's my great-grandfather Michael Patrick McLaughlin up on the left, doesn't he look like my dad?). And I noticed something that I never noticed before--that my great-aunt Veronica had a child, and long story short, I have second cousins that nobody knew about. Through the powers of the internet, I found one and emailed him and presto-changeo! new family. Next up Dallas and the Taylors, the whos whats and whens of the American South, what the hell their original ancestry is, and all of the mixes in between.
Go ahead, give it a shot of your own.

YES.

2010-07-05T16:11:00.005-04:00

Double Team: New Moleskine sketchbook and Mpls St. Paul Mag summer issue from Half-Price Books. Booyakasha!

The Fourth.

2010-07-05T11:45:00.010-04:00

Any day that has enough room for several adventures is a notable achievement. Typically, I don't do much for the Fourth, this probably coming from my immigrant upbringing, so when a couple friends suggested to come over and BBQ, I jumped all over the idea. You see, my girlfriends are incredibly creative and cook wonders and this always inspires my own creative cooking process. Brazilian music from 88.5 (40 years of Jazz!) set the mood and with a big mug of good coffee at hand, I got to chopping all of the fresh produce from our CSA in WI. We had picked up organic beef and both spicy Italian and apple chicken sausages at Trader Joe's for grilling-- that was D's job (as I neither remember how, nor wish to be in charge of cooking meat). I whipped together some garlic and fresh rosemary olive oil and spread it on top of young red potatoes and beets, which were roasted in the oven until soft and crispy. Wild Rice from the Red Lake Nation was mixed with sauteed young onions, peas, and sliced portobellos. Rachel brought a fantastically tasty multi-colored pasta salad with a simple vinagrette and Beth contributed the largest amount of fresh fruit I have ever seen, in the coolest dish I've ever seen, a giant palm tree, whose center was filled with creamy vanilla yogurt and brown sugar. Dessert was equally to die for, Rachel having yet again outdone herself in the baking arena by bringing Peanut Butter Tart Bars and Lime Bars with Pistachio-Graham Cracker crust. We played the wish to nap away by challenging ourselves to a game of Mindquest, which was probably more hilariously frustrating and non-sensical than entertaining.

The Minnesota summer has become hot and muggy, but in the evenings, the humidity is like a blanket keeping you warm in the cool summer breezes. At 9:30pm, with dusk just starting to set in, we walked down several blocks to the lake and spread out a king-sized comfy quilt on the grass to await the show. Paul shot prolonged exposures of various illegal firework activity leading up to the main event, and Beth pulled out homemade caramel corn, which was so addictive that I had to work hard to restrain myself from eating the entire batch (recipe below). There was a big crowd, the outline of hundred of black heads and lawnchairs visible in the shadows right up to the reflective edge of the water.
When I was wee, I used to watch the fireworks most summers out on White Bear beach with my grandparents staring into the sky. Watching the colors explode above the water was just as magical a sight this year as it was when I was small. There's something about laying on the grass with your friends on a warm summer night that can't be beat. Thanks guys.

Beth's Caramel Corn (Yum!)
Old Dutch Puffcorn
1/2 lb Butter
1 cup Brown Sugar
1/2 cup light corn syrup
Heat oven to 250. Pour corn in a roasting pan. Boil the butter, brown sugar, and corn syrup for 2 minutes. Take off heat. Add 1 tsp of baking soda. Pour over corn-stir. Bake 45 minutes stirring every 15 minutes. Pour on wax paper. Separate into kernels while still hot.

Above skirt by Boden, an classy and sporty clothing line out of England.

Pirate-ism

2010-07-02T17:05:00.006-04:00

Feeling the burning fires of creativity today. Who knows what will materialize.

Game. Set. Match.

Here would be my ideal pirate outfit today. I can't believe they make this jacket, I am so so so in love with soft and mean.

Biker Jacket: Madewell (if not translated in the picture, it's sweatshirt-like material)

T-shirt: Urban (Who can resist their angsty super sales?)

Countdown: T-minus Five Days

2010-06-14T23:39:00.002-04:00

So we've have less than a week to go. We went up to the barn yesterday with the first load of items: tables, tents, wine, garlands, flower boxes and more. There's been enough rain that the grass has gotten tall and green and the goat kids are full of energy romping around the yard. It's been a pleasure to see the evening light getting longer and by the time this weekend rolls around, it will join us well into the night. I've finally allowed myself to get a little excited, but there is still a great deal to be done. It's amazing how many little things need to be in place for such a laid back affair to happen. This evening included buying collard greens, baked beans, and stuff for mac and cheese to be made the night before. We're keeping everything as local as possible and nixing any hydrogenated oils or high fructose corn syrup. Everything is going to be made by family, mostly my mother and aunt who are in charge of the wonderful cake, Latvian potato salad, and other things I'll keep under wraps for now. Maija has been a wonderful sidekick, keeping me laughing through all of the stress. In fact, my whole family has been fantastic, jumping in everywhere they are allowed. D and I are looking forward to getting all the work done so we can enjoy it.

Shout out.

2010-01-30T10:01:00.002-05:00

For various reasons I will not begin to describe, my photography has gone stagnant for the past three years. Note to self: I think it's time to get back in the game.

Registration and Libraries

2010-01-17T15:02:00.010-05:00

On one hand, picking out things for people to give me as gifts makes me extremely uncomfortable. It's as though I'm running out on the street screaming "I want this!" in people's faces. I'm the kind of person who doesn't mention that it's her birthday when people forget. I'm more of a behind-the-scenes instead of in-the-spotlight gal, which Dallas reminds me is hilarious considering that I'm planning a big party for our wedding. However, the part that I do like is the fantasy of our own beautiful place, picking out pieces that would fit together perfectly and make our house a home. I have a big imagination, with room for all kinds of scenarios, and it has only become more wild and out of control with the fact that Dallas is a builder. So I often comment to him, in passing, "would you make me that?" and the answer is always yes (though i've probably imagined enough projects by now to keep him busy into his early nineties). The above dresser from Anthro has a certain amount of whimsy in its rustic sensibility. I love libraries and English wood panelled rooms, so the classic leather furniture fits that nicely.

We've been discussing what to do with the hundreds of books I already own, how to organize and display them nicely (building floor to ceiling bookshelves is project #243 on D's list), when I came across a nice little article Craft linked me to.

I like the idea of organizing them by color, though my system will probably be more intricately organized by genre and author. How have you organized your bookshelves?

This is NOT the dress.

2010-01-16T16:47:00.002-05:00

But you get the idea. Hourglass silhouette and short. My lace top is the same length, but actually has more detail and beading and is a completely separate piece with buttons all the way down its back. The dress has a subtle swirl print and is also embellished with little pearls and lace. Now it's off to find the accessories. Any suggestions?

Par Avion.

2010-01-07T22:12:00.002-05:00

I just keep on finding myself cool crafty things on the internet.
This Dead Letter Office font will be useful.

baby, it's cold outside.

2010-01-05T22:08:00.003-05:00

taking a mental breather from getting back to work.
Just me and fred tonight, snuggling under the covers, watching a movie I know I am wise not to subject my fiance to (btw gals, 500 Days of Summer is fantastic...and has a great soundtrack).
Last night was reading. Just found this illustration so joyful, I had to share. It reminds me that as cold as it is right now, i can keep on like this until it's time to go out again.

Best Of: the last week or two.

2009-12-31T12:05:00.006-05:00

I've been tweaking hard the last couple of weeks off of work. The wedding has about five million bajillion things running through my brain and I have to say, I've spent an unhealthy amount of time on the internet.

See, the thing I've learned about weddings is that you never stop looking for ideas. It's maddening. Even though I pretty much know which way I want to go, I look for more. And I want every single one of those five hundred teeny details that pull it all together.

I got my cousin, Robert, a subscription to Make Magazine for the holidays so that he and D can tweak out on their cool projects. What I didn't expect, was to get addicted to their funky sister, Craft Magazine. And so, that has sent me on a DIY-spiral, wedding wise and otherwise. Their fabulous blog has great links to projects and all sorts of things across this world wide web. Through them I've found places to download neat fonts, a blog about historical cooking, sewing patterns, and uplifting stories about how craft has impacted people's lives.

On the handmade kick, I have also reinvested my energy into Etsy and have even encouraged my beau to start up his own store to sell his artwork. More details to come in the future.

To be fair, what time I haven't spent on the internet, I've actually tried to devote to cultivating my relationship with the local environment. We were lucky enough to get gift certificates for Bryant Lake Bowl's Date Night as well as D and my new favorite hang, Ginger Hop (also fave cause it is right next to the store). Since we're food junkies, the Heavy Table blog keeps me informed as to the local culinary goings-on with beautiful photographs to let me drool along.

Trying to adjust to social life has also been eased by our becoming regulars at the Joe and Noah Monday Night Trivia at Sauce. It helps that both of us have become fact masters through exposure and also regularly get our drinks paid for. Oh, and their parmee-sian french fries are worth the trip alone.

Window shopping for fun and unique pieces is also something my sweetie and I have in common. This place is so cool, D and I would like to furnish our whole house with it: City Salvage. And it's not too expensive, considering (anyone who would like to garnish me with any kind of gift can buy the print above).

Here's to a new year full of more wonderful discoveries--as well as having the right company to find them with.

I love stories.

2009-12-31T11:53:00.003-05:00

Maija thinks that this is odd, but I actually enjoy listening to stories while I drive, as opposed to always having music. Comedy albums are good too.

But these two take the cake and always offer up something new.

The Moth Podcast
This American Life

Dee-lightful

2009-11-30T15:06:00.002-05:00

Saturday antiquing with my boo. Found the most wonderful shop on W 7th in St. Paul, right next to the Catholic Charities day treatment center. Reasonable prices and a wonderful owner. I spent the entire time in the postcards section and couldn't resist sharing this with you. Thank you, Westcott's Station Antiques.

yellow and grey.

2009-10-22T17:36:00.002-04:00

grey skies tend to bring about sentimentality.
i feel good in my small black leather jacket and large fluffy scarf, cat eyes peering at what's going on in the street outside. have been romanticizing the past lately, dreams of a-line skirts and white gloves, though the present is always present in the way you look at me. taking a unmarked cd out of one of the cars to find that my sister's taste coincides for brief moments, flashes of thought patterns tied to song. surprised that i am enjoying the cold weather, if only the joy that it brings about huddling over steaming cups of hot chocolate and warm puppies curled up at the foot of your bed. you scrunch your shoulders up when you are excited, just like you do when you are cold, and i find myself mimicking the way you do, paying homage to my wish to absorb you.
i'll knit you a scarf and for myself a large beret to go with my newly found fall joy. perhaps too, there will be a golden afghan to envelop the both of us.

for those friends with a heightened sense of curiosity.

2009-10-13T12:11:00.005-04:00

as far as i can find, this was my paternal grandmother's.

she was married April 10th, 1943.

Falling into a new start.

2009-10-10T14:03:00.011-04:00

"...mekleju vardus kalna mala..."*

shift. reset.

this morning it snowed.
there is something comforting about the effort to keep warm. as a kid i relished the mornings in which i could peer my head out of my cocoon of warm blanket and taste the cool air enveloping me. today, i sleepily cradled a steaming cup of licorice tea, lit the furnace, and layered long shirt, white sweater, black jacket, yellow scarf.
now i sit, layers shed, absent-mindedly fiddling with the ring on my left hand thinking.
for some time the words have escaped me, trapped in an exhausting whirlpool of mute observation. but slowly they are coming back to me emerging with an energy reminiscent of the epic Latvian bear hero.

I am finding that I am enjoying fall. Previous talk of it brought tense anticipation, but the reality of soft and heavy fabrics, stick-to-your ribs type fare, and sneaking into the warm crook of your love's arm is much nicer than expected. Maija has done nothing other than to extoll the virtues of local apples and Charline is tempting me to begin knitting again. I am mad about these felty boots from Target and this golden wool scarf from Boden. Grey and gold are destined to be colors of mine this season.

Working to build the familiarity that makes one feel at home. After a long day at work, am planning to treat us to a neighbourhood soul food restaurant, Brasa, in an attempt to reach the Southern comfort signals in our heads and encourage some sense of acclimation.

Looking forward to the long haul.

*Trans.: "...looking for words at the edge of the mountain..." --Prata Vetra

opposing viewpoints.

2009-07-27T08:56:00.002-04:00

back from a mini-trip to GA, the car still making odd noises, a weird combination of nerves and relaxation. today is monday, and i relish a few extra minutes before work, anticipating a long and hectic day, two days in a row. money is thin until the end of the week and payday, as it is all going to the car fund, or dentist fund, or moving fund. i do my best to get through to the positive moments awaiting me, though i fear the anxiety piling up the longer i stay.

In a floral state of mind.

2009-07-13T13:25:00.005-04:00

I've been going absolutely batty for the beautiful fabric flowers I've been seeing this season. They've become more sophisticated than kitschy and add a nice little touch of color and summer to any outfit, casual or formal.

The photo is courtesy of the Sartorialist (a must read).

Also, if you're in the mood to do some handiwork, Martha Stewart's page has had some really nice instructionals as well.

Reboot.

2009-07-08T18:59:00.003-04:00

Again, again, the excitement of something new. The to do list of summer has finally given way to warm weather fantasies. Alfred and I have shared time in the shade on grassy knolls, plans have been made to pick berries, late night romantic summer walks have taken place, and other such living out of the imagination. Our tomatoes are doing so well, through no help of our own, that we've had to prune them back several times. I have numerous recipes for pasta sauce and cold salads waiting in the wings. The only thing I have not yet been able to enjoy is swimming and that makes me miss mn ever more dearly. In time, in time.
The newest issue of National Geographic has an oh so wonderful article about Midwestern state fairs, written by Mr. Garrison Keilor, who perfectly captures the essence of what makes them both repulsing and great. I recommend it as a good read for those end of the summer anxieties that are already slowly creeping into the wings.
We slowly move forward in packing and say little goodbyes to this place that has sustained us for better or for worse. But still barely containing our excitement to leave and start from scratch.

Geneology.

2009-06-25T17:09:00.004-04:00

Lately, I have been collecting names.
Family names especially fascinate me because of their rich history and sense of significance (or sometimes, lack of). I've been toying with the idea of making a blog about my families and their names. D adds an extra facet, because as opposed to our perpetually transient nature, his family has stayed in the same place for generations. So they have lush southern names (with a capital s), that roll off the tongue in a completely different way.
Top five favorites (if I had to pick):
1)Leopold
2)Mae
3)Washington
4)Ivie
5)Emmett

Marianne

2009-06-15T10:35:00.001-04:00

"I used to think I was some kind of gypsy boy, before I let you take me home."

rose colored glasses.

2009-05-30T18:36:00.003-04:00

we have a deep white sink, wrapped in plastic, sitting on the front porch.
it signifies the life that is percolating in our mind's-eye: a house that is also a home, family, love, and something that is far more stimulating and active than the current sedation we are surrounded by. it feels like some kind of awakening, moving out of hibernation.
you don't realize how bad it was until you have it good.
i'm going at top speed now, it's back, i'm moving. art, neighbors, friends, music, culture, everything of importance. i'm back, feeling like it's worth it, feeling like it's all coming together.
ideas come at a fast clip, i am enjoying myself, paring down and gearing up.
i'm ready to go.

and so:

2009-05-03T20:57:00.001-04:00

the best has yet to come my friend, the best has yet to come

so raise your glass and toast the past:

the best is yet to come

Natural Decisions.

2009-03-13T21:20:00.003-04:00

My writing has suffered as a result of too much life going on outside of this little box we call the computer.

Bliss has intervened and all sense of time has become a blur.

But, dear reader, I propose, as I have many times in the past, that I will come back to you.

I am actively preparing for the new season, looking forward to sprouting shoots and adventures as of yet not planned. I will see Minnesota, perhaps the West, and certainly various aspects of the East. After months of storage and clenched bodies, we are uncurling ourselves to wake up to the new air around us.

And as I love lists, I must ask: What are you looking forward to?

And I say yes once more.

2009-01-23T19:14:00.002-05:00

Many birthdays find you with the phrase "Here we are again." Sometimes the tone is contemplative, sometimes resentful, but this year it is all together content. Noting the reflection of another year past, a summary of doings and a vast plane of emotional markers. I woke up in the darkness and pushed out into a cold, but wonderous morning of frost and mountain sunrises, beautiful and strong. I enjoyed the company of friends and phone calls from the people I love. And upon arriving home, Alfred and I took a ride into the turning light, to bring full circle the meaning of the day. I am thankful, and happy.

If it were now, I would say yes.

2009-01-18T09:44:00.004-05:00

I am sitting upright in bed, hair pulled back somewhat untidily and glasses on, contemplating the creation of a bowl of oatmeal with bananas and cherries and walnuts. Alfred has lain himself across my knees, looking up at me questioningly, as if to ask whether his heavy body is drawing my hand's attention to the top of his head. The house is quiet and still; a distinct absence is apparent. Therefore, I must fill it. Fill the entire house, with movement, and the wafting scent of fresh food, and NPR voices, and new art. My hands must keep going while my eyes remain open. In this manner, I can ensure that I will continue to enjoy myself, though not all together unaware of the hole I am dancing around. And still, this happiness revs me like an engine, it is sure, and stable, and I know it will not run out. So, I put my faith in the unconscious workings of my brain and limbs to drive me forward, to make anew. It is another day.

New Year.

2009-01-12T12:56:00.007-05:00

So, it is a new year.

I've always wondered whether my last year before turning 30 would play out like a 90s sitcom, lead character fretting about accomplishing everything on her "list" before the crows feet set in as the clock strikes midnight. Those shows always had the odd foreboding that once one officially moved into another decade of life, doors of opportunity would close and the "list" would be doomed to gather dust in the back of the closet. I've never really felt the same push. In fact, my thinking has been positively geared to the thirtysomething decade since sometime around my last birthday, since, honestly, how much does a 28-year-old have in common with a 21-year-old?

though i do have what i would call "urges to action."

This year, rather than set resolutions, I feel like just honoring myself and my instincts in general. Exploring things that interest and intrigue me, without giving them a timeline. And to give in less to our consumer culture which dictates what we should and shouldn't do, like and shouldn't like according to what the market looks like that season.

Oh, the drama.

'tis the season

2008-12-01T16:18:00.003-05:00

In the Hendersonville newspaper for the past three days running, advertising the Ugly Christmas Sweater Party for the United Way Rising Leaders.

spirit.

2008-11-23T10:43:00.003-05:00

most people like to believe that their family christmas celebrations are somewhat like the movies, either sitting together with matching sweaters, cherubic faces lit by the fire, or enduring the onslaught of chaos and hilarity that only family and loved ones (and a lot of food and drink) can bring. each year, i try to hold off the nostalgia as long as i can, because once it hits, there is no looking back. i am immediately immersed and overwhelmed by my childhood memories of the holiday. setting the scene: i was the oldest grandchild, and for a short while, the only kid, until my pixie sister arrived (sweet, but deadly). combine this with a large immigrant family, which includes not only various immediate family members, but members of the larger "familial" community. add a large helping of ethnic tradition, the happiness of those reuniting multiplied various times, plus the warmth and comfort of being back in your original home, and you get a kind of mystical atmosphere.

though my whole family have always been gypsy travellers, christmas, not thanksgiving, was the one time to gather and share. i have fond recollections of young aunts and uncles, dressed in shoulder pads and leather jackets, freshly splashed with cologne and perfume, running out of the airplane and embracing us all. in fact, i bet not many people can boast whole days spent at the airport, shuttling various family members coming in from various destinations, hours apart. those traditions are hard to recreate now that we are even more scattered and families have grown and grown up. but, for the first time in a long time, i am going "home" for christmas, and most everyone plans to gather there with me. it will be the first christmas that my sister has lived back in mn, and sweet sweet relatives from overseas will be in as well. this year it is my turn to be the fresh faced young aunt, coming into town with bright plans and a handsome new man. complete the picture with life-sized puppy dog and you are set and ready to go.

What I am already looking forward to. In no particular order:
1)Christmas cards with D. Two lists this year, oy vey. (Maij says that she and No plan to recreate the Sears portrait studio. Looking forward to it).
2)Visiting friends I haven't seen in ages and who now, suddenly have turned into adults, have babies and own homes.
3)Listening to holiday themed music within the appropriate time period after Thanksgiving and before the holidays.
4)No work for two whole weeks.
5)The random squealing of various friends and loved ones during phone conversations as the date nears.
6)Alfred and Linus, a very astute and balanced pair, reunited.
7)Reinventing the Cities as an adult, with an adult sibling knowledgable of all the right places to go and do. Including but not limited to: taking a tour of local breweries to watch the magic of beer bond m and d; local music, live, and record stores galore; the 331; half price books; french and modern american eateries. Derek, the more suggestions, the better. Feel free to comment.
8)Shopping. From new (Forever 21) to used (Savers and Ragstock). A to Z.
9)Scheme over potential gifts to those I love.
10)Introduce a man who grew up in a land with no winter to ice and snow, cheese curds and bratwurst, sledding and snowshoeing, and all of the wonders of crawling back into the warm wonderful space in the crook of each others arms.

these days.

2008-11-21T20:17:00.006-05:00

today i feel a little like margot tennenbaum: wordy, dark, and beautiful.

cold and ice covered the roads this morning. a bit treacherous, if it were not for the hot coffee keeping me company. nico sang in a low hum while i shifted in the seat, attempting to avoid the certain literal shock my tights were trying to produce against the fabric. sitting there moving through the snow and damp, my heart began to beat in rhythm to its surroundings.
more than once in our lives we look back and assess everything that has come forth thus far and attempt to act wisely about what is to come. we are always facing the unknown, but rarely, if ever, do we truly look at it, the unknown, as its own entity. and probably for the better, since the unknown is rarely anything but terrifying. but terror is not too far from the feeling of exhilaration and therefore we hurdle ourselves in no uncertain manner towards that which we do not know.
i try not to hurdle too quickly too often even though it is in my aquarian nature. i tell myself that i have the capacity to be more conscious, to move slower, to view more at depth. i get this way when i am contemplative and never otherwise. mostly, i move in black and white (even though the interior most often is a shade of grey). i enjoy feeling the extremes because they leave little doubt as to what's there. acute senses make me feel vulnerable, they make me flinch as though in tending the fire, a stray ember has happened upon my skin.
currently i am certain that i am hurdling towards some change. change that has truth at its core.

Renew.

2008-11-20T16:53:00.001-05:00

ok. i know my posts have sucked lately. i promise to do better.

literary merit.

2008-11-11T17:59:00.007-05:00

i want my sister to write a novel.

in our adult lives i've always fancied her a david sedaris type long before we knew how to name the david sedaris type. she has an extraordinary way of putting things and through her words you often get to relive moments, albeit fleshed out and somehow infused with just the right amount of self-deprecating hilarity. (i wonder what she fancies me as. a towering giant who always was controlled by the elder sibling gene? or a protective companion? or even (ideally, i must admit) a twin separated by five years, ala gilmore girls, complete with witty banter expressed at a fast clip.)

from January 7 2003:
"yesterday for show and tell in lit class i showed two different views of our relationship when we were little: the video when you know you are being filmed and call me "your royalness" and ask if you can get me anything before flashing a big smile at the camera, and then the one when you hit me over the head with an egg. my teacher was quite pleased."

i will leave the comments section open for petition from others who agree that maija could provide more than sufficient documentation.

The first day of the rest of our lives...

2008-11-04T09:44:00.002-05:00

It all boils down to this day, these next hours. To be continued...

winter, wait...what?

2008-10-28T09:20:00.008-04:00

"it's like, hey, you were always there just on the tip of my tongue."

last night as our little family set out on another road adventure, d looked up at the sky and announced that the deep heavy grey clouds were in fact full of snow. i furrowed my brow in disbelief, as the sun was still out to a certain extent, and although it was cold and windy, it certainly didn't look like snow to a mn girl.

i was wrong.

as the little flakes started to fall and melt on our windshield, we stopped by family dollar to pick up two giant bags of wonka halloween candy (nerds of course), to prepare for the children down the block swarming around our house on friday. alfred, if you had not already guessed by the picture below, is going as a skeleton. hopefully he will scare the kids more with his glow-in-the-dark costume as opposed to his barking. i am still working on my costume.

it is darn cold outside. winter seems to have come upon us swiftly as i can't deem this kind of weather fall-like. once it starts freezing, it is the beginning of the end. i do have to say, however, that it is quite enjoyable to ride in the car, once warm, drink hot coffee, eat poundcake, and watch the sun come over the mountains, while listening to some of the music that i've come across lately. in this way, some light can be shed on the dark and perhaps dismal days that lie ahead of us.

recent recommendations include:

Of Montreal-Nonpareil of Favor

Ray LaMontagne-You Are the Best Thing

Blitzen Trapper-Furr

The Rumble Strips-Boys and Girls In Love

Broken West-Auctioneer

Well put.

2008-10-23T11:55:00.001-04:00

“I look at these people and can't quite believe that they exist. Are they professional actors? I wonder. Or are they simply laymen who want a lot of attention? To put them in perspective, I think of being on an airplane. The flight attendant comes down the aisle with her food cart and, eventually, parks it beside my seat. "Can I interest you in the chicken?" she asks. "Or would you prefer the platter of shit with bits of broken glass in it? To be undecided in this election is to pause for a moment and then ask how the chicken is cooked."

- Author David Sedaris, on undecided voters

Whooo's ready for Halloween?

2008-10-22T18:54:00.002-04:00

autumn.

2008-10-22T12:44:00.004-04:00

fall is a contemplative season.

once again i find myself apologizing to you, dear readers, that i have been gone so long. i've been busy putting my energy elsewhere, but finally, now, i've gotten back to my writing, something i've missed very much. the thing about expectations is that they can't be unrealistic. it takes time to readjust to new situations and new settings and as much as we'd like things to bounce back to normal immediately, they never do. so i must make peace with myself that things don't always run on the same time as my brain does.

after the energy and the burn of the summer months, i find myself wrapping into myself, preparing for hibernation, or at least nesting in attempt to create an inviting home. the heat has transfered from the outdoors in. similarly, the hearth of my heart has been stoked to a steady burn, something which i am more than thankful for, being that i had been waiting for the ashes to be cleared away for some time now. fall has brought soft scarves and hot coffee, fred observing the changing of the leaves on the parkway with his nose stuck out the window (and the heat in the front turned way up to counterbalance the open windows in the back), quiet nights huddled under the covers, and various pots and pans on the oven giving the aroma of something comforting (read: mac and cheese, lentil soup, apple pie, and homemade pizzas). this is the time of year i end up the most domestic. as i draw into the home, i think of family, old and new, and how much love i have in my life.

what you wish for.

2008-09-24T14:07:00.004-04:00

Life is a fantastical thing. You don't always quite know which way is coming or going, then all of a sudden you find yourself one night driving down the road with a person who happens to love green olives just as much as you do.

Just sayin'.

oh yeah.

2008-09-17T10:00:00.002-04:00

In this picture, Mara is trying to say ____________.

My sentiments exactly.

2008-09-11T14:33:00.001-04:00

old habits are hard to break.

2008-09-09T12:48:00.007-04:00

i am starting to fall madly in love with this town and it feels both oddly unexpected and wonderous.

who would've thunk?

sure i moved down here with an interest in the area, and with a wish to slow down my harried life, but got to the point where i wasn't sure if i was quite feeling it. this led to a decision at the beginning of the summer that this was make it or break it time--either the place proves itself to me (i to it)...or move on. however, i certainly wasn't going to sit around waiting for stuff to come to me, i wanted to give avl a running chance.

and oh man am i glad i stuck around.

the energy of this town has hit me rapidly and without apology. after moving into my little white bungalow, with the wooden dragonfly and plants hanging off of its little porch, i set out to see what i could see, hitting the streets, head down, peering around corners to observe creatures in their natural habitats. already the makeup of my every day interactions are different. yesterday morning, my neighbor, who has lived here for over 20 years, stopped me to say that his wife had informed him that indeed, the apples in his yard are good for cooking, and to help myself to as many as i'd like to cook up a mean apple sauce for the neighborhood potluck. he whispered, somewhat embarrassed, but laughing, that he is the only one who shows up with food he hasn't grown himself.

additionally, more than once this weekend i found myself amidst several musicians, extremely talented ones at that, who come from various walks of life and various backgrounds playing various instruments, but all unified expressly through their passions. not shows, or performances, but simply gatherings that resulted in musical communication back and forth from one to another. these are the kind of interactions someone from the outside is only lucky enough to witness, ones that leave you with a knot in your throat and heart pounding from the sheer rhythm of it all. i must say, tapping into the creative community in avl has a snowball effect--you delve deeper and deeper until surrounded on all sides by great minds spiraling in all directions.

here's the thing. to a certain extent my nature has been shaped by the C-I-T-Y. and i'm talking about the capital CITY, not just a location with a population over 50,000. i'm a fast talking, fast walking, curt, and sometimes socially clueless individual who at times doesn't know how to fit herself into such a free and rule-less environment. i'm the gal with a plan. which isn't necessarily a bad thing, but not appropriate at all times. however, with the help of a few amazing people, i find myself slowly being coaxed out of the comfort zone i only realize now that i've still been holding on to. maybe maija was right--soon you'll find me dancing in bare feet, hair down to my stomach. and just like this town, i will make no apologies for it.

Profoundly moved.

2008-09-02T10:11:00.005-04:00

Dear Readers,
I sincerely apologize for my lagging in the department of photos and fiction. My poor excuse is that I am in the middle of a change of residence. How can I ever make it up to you?
*mara*

Hear our hearts in the distance, like canon fire.

2008-08-27T16:11:00.008-04:00

sitting in the car, i hold my knees to my chest, feet on the fabric of the seat, staring down at my brown summer feet offset by pinkish toenails. it is the middle of the night and we are driving through the jungles of central georgia, my eyes tired, but still focused on the sights of a quiet small town. you laugh and coo quiet stories about the places now asleep, your drawl becoming more pronounced the further into it we get. i's turn to ahhhhs. i clutch my knees tighter, to drawn in my expanding heart as well as to sheepishly hide my contented smile. here i am negotiating territory not totally unfamiliar, but completely new. check marks acrue in my head as i study your face in the passing street lamps.

Sweet Home Alabama

2008-08-18T14:57:00.008-04:00

lord, i'm coming home to you.

this past weekend was something out of a movie. through a series of rather fortunate events, i somehow found myself in the green oceanside marshes of southern south carolina with a huge mess of small town georgia folks, dressed up in finest kakhis and polos, ready to party. they spoke foreign tongues of childhood stories involving bb guns and streets i've not yet visited and quietly my attention stole away to the teeny crabs scampering across the sand and flocks of white cranes making their way through the water. it was the most humidity i've been in in a while, but i made it work, wore the lightest dress i could find, and smiled my biggest smile, using the sweat glow to my advantage. little wooden fans and large bushels of hydrangeas were involved as well and exaggerated the already wholly southern feel of the event. sitting under the spanish moss, romance was at its peak. i was in my element, having always been a small town and family girl at heart, and danced well into the night after meeting the coach, and mom and dad, and so and so's uncle's sister's cousin. the night ended in a flash of lightening storms as far as the horizon, illuminating that which had already become quite obvious.

in honor of the road trip, prior to knowing that this would turn out to be one of the best weekends of my life, the following mix was created.

Westfall-Okkervil River

Radar Love-Golden Earring

Big Adventure-Blitzen Trapper

Commotion-Creedence Clearwater Revival

Box Full of Letters-Wilco

Street Fighting Man-Rolling Stones

I'm On Fire-AA Bondy

A Girl in Port-Okkervil River

Hesitating Beauty-Billy Bragg and Wilco

Prodigal Son-Rolling Stones

Caifornia Stars-Billy Bragg and Wilco

You Are My Flower-The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band

Up On Cripple Creek-The Band

I Shall Be Released-Bob Dylan

Fighter Girl-Mason Jennings

Dancing in the Moonlight-Thin Lizzy

Rapture (Sweet Rapture)-AA Bondy

The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down-The Band

Gloria-Van Morrison

Honey Don't-Carl Perkins

Girl From the North Country-Bob Dylan

Mrs. Cudi

2008-08-13T15:58:00.004-04:00

Young folks.

2008-08-02T11:00:00.005-04:00

as many of you well know, I am planning to immerse myself shortly in the young elite of this area by relocating myself to west asheville. when i lived in brooklyn, the thought of the high density of young uber hip progressive children in williamsburg was somewhat threatening--too many kids manufacturing their version of the perfect urban utopia. however, after spending a year and a half in a high retirement and more rural area, i have realized that i am greatly understimulated. and the lack of sidewalks drives me nuts. that being said, it's not really fair to compare wavl to williamsburg, because even though outwardly they contain a lot of the same type of people, the vibe is very different--this is still the south after all.
i had decided on wavl not only for its proximity to my still rural place of work, or high percentage of people under the age of 40, but also for its high percentage and diversity of shops, restaurants, and places to hang out. most of this is centered along a main stretch called haywood road, with offshoots of smaller streets heavy with early to mid 20th century bungalows. a long time ago, it was its own village, eventually annexed into asheville, much like brooklyn and the big city. it became a lower income section of town, which is why it began to attract a lot of young but not well off artists and musicians. now it is quickly becoming gentrified, but still seems to have a spirit of its own, the new mixing with the old.

this is just one example why i like the place and the people: on thursday night, i went to an impeccable home and clothing store aptly named Custom (i'll save going on and on about how i love this placed for another time), which was having a clothing swap for charity. for a $7 donation to the local women's shelter, audrey and i got in to the space and sorted through the neatly hung and sorted items, including some samples from the store that still had tags. everyone was allowed to take about 5-7 items and the rest was brought to the shelter. they ended up raising over $600 and a whole bunch of clothes, and i made out with some of the best swap stuff i've ever seen.

this is what i found:

london connection dress in coral.
mossimo leather bomber jacket, just in time for fall.
pocket detail
shoulder detail

dress by laundry, tags still attached.

detail
vintage blouse, with front tie and ties on sleeves
mossimo green jersey top with v-neck beaded embellishment
brand new white belt with striped stitching

i just got an email that they're having a summer sale. guess you might be seeing more soon...

Good things come in fives.

2008-07-27T19:25:00.002-04:00

Top 5 reasons this was an interesting weekend:

1) I brought my car to the backyard of a long-haired man named Johnny, who, in one day, turned it from a stubborn 185,000 mile grandma to a meek, purring kitten.

2) I was taught that the way one can distinguish a veggie bratwurst from a real one is by the curve of the sausage.

3) Not being a beer drinker, I spent three hours volunteering to pour local microbrews, and found I was pretty darn good at it (all for a good cause).

4) I got to experience Asheville (pop. 80,000) with no cars, loud music, and 350,000 freely drinking, roaming in the streets.

5) I started sorting clothes to give away and am putting things in boxes, readying for my next move.

Lost and Found.

2008-07-27T18:59:00.004-04:00

Talk of a party a couple of weeks ago prompted me to visit one of my favorite places in Hendersonville--the Hospice thrift store on Main Street. They have been good to me before: in the winter I found a long fake fur collared wool coat, which makes me look something of a 50s queen, for 8 dollars. The idea of this party was to be a bad coed dance, the term "prom" was bantered about, and I wanted to be prepared with the most beautiful awful looking dress (cause, you know, whenever girls dress up to look badly they secretly want to look great). In addition, I had signed myself up to DJ this event, so I needed something light so I could move around and dance. Unfortunately, due to laziness or perhaps some other factor, the dance idea was shot down and instead replaced by a pot luck (say what?), but mark my words, this dress will see the light of day.

long-sleeved but light, boxy shape, if not for the matching belt.

detail of the shimmery snake-like print

collar detail, slight slit at the neck (this picture is more accurate of the color than the first)

oh, and bonus! I found a nightgown in the exact same fabric as the one i bought in San Diego in '99. nice and light, with some interesting glass buttons.

A little amusement

2008-07-27T18:40:00.001-04:00

For anyone who has worked in a job where they have dealt with abusive, demanding, or just plain stupid customers: http://notalwaysright.com/

Feel free to post your own stories in the comments section.

i have the biggest crush on jason segel.

2008-07-13T13:29:00.007-04:00

i met lisa the redhead a few days into college. she had lived in minnesota too, probably at the same time i was there, and now we were in new york together. she was shoulder height on me, but her personality was enormous, as was her hair. a good irish girl, complete with crazy artist older sister who was in her fifth of four years studying as a mad genius across the street at columbia. we kept on finding things in common, like the fact that we were both vegetarian, and both spent nights in music chatrooms (the way to relate in 1997). she lived diagonally across the hall from me, as we were all packed like sardines as freshman, one per square foot. many nights were spent laying across the hallway floor or in the corner lounge making popcorn and watching tv. we spent a lot of time in each other's rooms as well, decorating and going through one another's stuff. sometimes even the studying was easier to do with a silent partner. somehow, i also remember that she had a vinyl copy of the soundtrack to the labyrinth, which she was obsessed with. this was replaced a few years later with her complete and total passion for freaks and geeks, which i only had caught a few episodes of, not having a tv and all. through a series of circumstances she was no longer in school at this point, but i was, so she either slept on the floor of my 6x10 room, or i took the rusty bus up to hartford on the weekends to stay with her parents. i introduced her to the punk dives i liked to frequent, and within no time, this ballsy little chick was borrowing my dog collars and pushing us to the front of the crowd (she had a good excuse, me, being 5'10," did not and therefore ended up usually sitting in a fetal position next to the monitors on stage). i dropped out of the punk scene not too long afterwards, but she stayed on and got in with the old rock elite.

pictures of joey ramone at 2am.

conversations with myself, 1:46 am.

2008-07-13T13:18:00.008-04:00

think. think of anything. anything else.

the mantra of late. late nights when it hits hard and the day's distractions are no longer there to cover up and blur the dischord building inside. the music in the car turned up to the point where it hurts your ears, like pressing on an open wound, hurting it to make it stop hurting. eyes out of focus holding on for dear life.

I can't solve the problems of this world, It's breaking my brain in two...

Lately I can see you're scared Cause we're growing up

Maybe if you changed your hair

You'd be good enough

Kids I used to know that died Now they're not around

I wonder what they think of life

When they're looking down

Holy crap.

2008-07-04T15:07:00.001-04:00

Apologies to Mike Skinner--you may have been just kicked off the top of the list.

Of Flat Eric and other wild things...

2008-07-04T14:20:00.003-04:00

Dear Derek,

You are the most awesomest version of awesome. Imagine my surprise, returning from lunch back to work yesterday, when the office was quiet as death (trying to get everything done before the long weekend) and finding a sweet little box addressed to me. This box, no less, was full of CDS! Not just one as I would first think, but many many more! Yipee!
As Alfred and I sit here eating graham crackers, I want to thank you a million for the prezzies. I'm going to rip them all onto my computer and then promptly distribute them to the various stereos in the house as well as work and the car. This is fantastic. The Kwanamas CD cover is really nice, I like the typed touches and the cereal box cover. It makes me wish I was in Minneapolis to start an artists collective with you. (By the way, Maija has moved to NE, so go by the store and give her a hi, she should be there next week).
This is going to be a pretty quiet weekend for Alfred and I, since we are home alone, so we'll definitely get to go through all of your goodies. Because I have windows and cannot Mojo you, I'll give you the following suggestions to run, not walk, and listen to.
1) You have no idea how much I needed it when you gave me the links to the Current and other places to download last summer. I continue to download almost every day now and a new one I've come upon that I think you would highly enjoy (if you do not already) is Rcrdlbl. They have an awesome variety and update many many new posts a day (oh, and for you ipod people, a podcast every week).
2) I've been really into a hip hop mode lately, which has surprised the bejeesus out of Maija. Two of my new faves are Kid Cudi and the Cool Kids. If you go before they post on Monday, Cool Kids' "88" should still be on the Current page. My fave Kid Cudi is "new new" and "Day N' Night (Crookers Remix)", which you can probably find on rcrdlbl.
3) New Futureheads is f-ing out of this world. I never saw why people didn't like Pinkerton and also didn't see the supposed "2nd album curse" with the Futureheads. Nevertheless, they've come out with their new album and it has the strength and ferociousness of their debut.
4) I've somewhat surprised myself at coming to like the new French Kicks. I was a fan of their One Time Bells, but didn't particularly like the direction they went in afterwards. Recently, I found myself repeating the songs off of their new album. They did a fairly nice little show for Daytrotter recently.
5) The Virgins remind me of the dark and sexy groove of Jonathan Richman when he was still in the Modern Lovers. Nuf Said.
6) Los Fancy Free is a kick-ass psychedelic-type band from Mexico. Some of the most unique stuff I've heard in a while.

More that would take too long to write about each individually: Spinto Band, Mystery Jets, Phantom Planet, Young Knives, The Wedding Present, Magic Bullets, France Has The Bomb, Teenagers, Dr. Dog, and Robbers on High Street.

Hope some of this stuff are things you haven't heard yet, cause I know that you are all over everything all of the time.
Thanks again for being so awesome. I'm going to publicly proclaim your awesomeness by posting this letter on my blog. Just cause.

Sincerely,
*mara*

and a few more.

2008-07-02T09:58:00.003-04:00

summer is for...

-going to Sliding Rock to--you guessed it--slide down a wet rock

-having an excuse to make vecmamma's potato salad (with 5 lbs of potatoes)

-taking advantage of the Montford Players outdoor Shakespeare productions

-making sure to hit all of the best restaurants in town when chef uncle is visiting

-making at least 50% of the Minimalist's "101 Dishes for Inspired Picnics"

-getting the darkest tan I've had since I was 10 and worked the farm for the entire summer

-wearing red, orange, and green in short sleeves, straps, and skirts

and the living is easy...

2008-06-30T19:51:00.006-04:00

summer is here!

in celebration, a list of my coming goals:

-crank up the music and crank down the windows in my car

-road trip (charleston, nashville, atlanta, oh my)!

-girls' camping trips

-stay up late to watch how i met your mother reruns

-sneak out in the dark to sit in the gazebo

-drive the backroads to sonics in the middle of the night

-break my record of seeing two baseball games in one summer

-swim!

-eat the strawberries growing on my deck

-ooooh, and watermelon! (not from the deck)

-take mountain hikes through the rhododendron coves with alfred

-plan a secret trip to minnesota

-stay awake until the sun comes up

-have a grill out

-see as many outdoor concerts as possible

-make some extra money (and in the mean time spy on more craigslist ads)

-knit nonsex specific baby clothes and consult on mountain wedding locations for friends

-Batman!

-have an early morning coffee under the magnolia tree at flat rock bakery

-make cranberry-pineapple popcicles

i am trying to break your heart

2008-06-14T10:29:00.004-04:00

What is it then between us?

What is the count of the scores or hundreds of years between us?

Whatever it is, it avails not--distance avails not, and place avails not,

I too lived, Brooklyn of ample hills was mine...

Walt Whitman

my heart is constricted, i can't breathe, i am back in Brooklyn.

i've missed the salty air, the quickened pace, the beautiful people,

the winks and smiles while rounding lips sound out vowels heard nowhere else.

my heart lifts and hangs heavy in rhythm with the Narrows.

i love you...i REPEAT--i love you, but alas, i can't stay.

the last week has been one of many important conclusions,

but they'll remain quietly ours.

superheroes in our daily lives.

2008-06-08T11:21:00.004-04:00

nyc day one.

Classic, just classic.

2008-06-08T11:17:00.001-04:00

darkness between fireflies.

2008-05-20T21:13:00.007-04:00

A waterfall from a higher place told me all about you.

a couple weeks ago i finally broke my ongoing curse of missing mason jennings shows. i won't go into detail here of how oddly wonderful and homebound he made me feel, but it made me think--there are quite a few things that remind me of the minnesotan portion of my upbringing, files hard-wired as MINNESOTA in my brain.

to you, and only you, dear readers, i share (though i don't propose that you'll understand):

-cricket noises in the dark

-swimming in a lake (and not freaking out at how still it is or what your feet are touching on the bottom)

-farm animals of various sorts, and their respective smells

-the automatic reaction of saying "jeez" or "gosh" when something bad happens

-freezing your ass off

-but still being able to do it without wearing a hat or gloves

-fishing (walleye, bass, pike, sunnies, crappies)

-knowing to pronounce the above "croppy"

(pretty good for a girl who once sprayed down the whole boat with mosquito repellant forcing a cursing grandfather and uncle to throw every fish back into the lake)

-let's not even get into pronouncing Wayzata or Wabasha

-the smell of lilacs in May when everything finally melts

-knowing what the Mississipi really looks like

-two words: STATE FAIR

-the constellation Orion

-knowing how to allot twenty minutes of your time in the morning towards starting your car

-Matthew Mallard

-Dairy Queen and Perkins

-fried cheese curds (oh how i miss you!)

-loving hockey (and the North Stars)

-reacting to a snow storm by planning for an extra half hour to get to work

-Rev 105 and Radio K

-having an odd affection for bowling as a way to spend your time

-rambling folk songs about vast wide open spaces

-not realizing that any of the above is out of the ordinary

for those in the know, anything you'd like to add?

perfect day

2008-05-17T19:59:00.007-04:00

(on days like this, with blue skies unmarred, i understand the following)

Quell' augellin che canta

sì dolcemente e lascivetto vola

or da l'abete al faggio

ed or dal faggio al mirto,

s'avesse umano spirto

direbb': Ardo d'amore, ardo d'amore!

Ma ben arde nel core,

e chiam' il suo desio

che li rispond': Ardo d'amor anch'io!

Che sii tu benedetto,

amoroso, gentil, vago augelletto!

Cheeky Monkey

2008-05-15T19:36:00.004-04:00

Dear Mike Skinner,

Will you marry me? Please?

Sincerely,
Mara

p.s. I love your secret Grafiti music.

I have always imagined that paradise will be a kind of library

2008-05-07T20:57:00.004-04:00

Last 5 books I have read (most recent to less recent):

1) The Book of Other People-ed. Zadie Smith

2) Flight-Sherman Alexie

3) As She Climbed Across the Table-Jonathan Lethem

4) Men and Cartoons-Jonathan Lethem

5) Indian Killer-Sherman Alexie

"Comfort me with apples: for I am sick of love."

2008-04-30T22:41:00.004-04:00

Current comfort food TOP 5:

1)Two Eggs, prepared any way

2)Oatmeal, made with milk, and with nuts and fruit/good jam

3)String Cheese

4) Saltine Crackers

5)Fresh Spinach, sauteed with garlic

Gratuitous Overstimulation

2008-04-29T23:08:00.001-04:00

blog fury

2008-04-27T12:51:00.008-04:00

yes, i have had a slew of energy, and yes, many small snippets here. this is the way i work, in short bursts of temperment.

I spent the entirety of Saturday night and most of Sunday morning uploading songs for my cousin who has somehow grown overnight from a small lanky blond mop of a kid into a large lanky darker adult of sorts. It took a while to adjust to this change, I thought that perhaps by squinting it would change him back into a high-pitched 10-year-old. Though I do have to say, I learned that some good genes run in the family. Such as those which caused him to choose the likes of Led Zeppelin, Depeche Mode, and Pearl Jam off of my playlist.

in the morning i have come to drink strong coffee and to hell with it, it tastes the best with a little dot (well, honestly, a big pour) of organic half and half. i rationalize that i'm evening it out by not adding sugar, hehe. but a little measure like this goes a long way toward making my day its best.

i've spent a lot of time during my recent weeks taking notice of the pleasant things in my life. for me, it's the little things that leave me enraptured, an extra shot of passion to keep me running ahead. it's the warmth of alfred lying halfway off the couch, eyes pinched shut and pink belly showing. or the late night walks outside in the quiet black grass inhaling the mist. i chaotically jump from one thing to another, enjoying the crazy game of hopscotch i create.

so ala Nick Hornby, here's my first top 5 list of things that truly float my boat.

TOP five new (at least new to me) bands that intrigue me the most:

1) Mystery Jets-These guys get the number one spot by far. Ever since I heard my first MJ song, Diamonds in the Dark , I'm totally bonkers for them, like listen, rewind, and repeat. And it's not just because they're British, though that is always a plus. In my opinion, they're so interesting because they are so deliberate about what they're doing, but it comes out in such an simple way. This is pop done well. And I'm a sucker for harmonies. It's like finding the Futureheads all over again (who are respectfully omited from this list only because they don't fall into my "new" category).

2) A. A. Bondy-Mr. A.A. is someone that you can tell, upon very first listen, knows exactly how to summarize all of that shit going on in your brain and all around you. Furthermore, he is not only perfectly to-the-point about his subjects, but enhances your senses in regards to said event. You fully experience each of his stories in a raw and visceral way. Only after becoming a heartfelt fan did I find that, in fact, i had already hearted him for a long time in a very different role...as the singer for Verbena (in the pink anyone?).

3) MSTRKRFT-So knowing my friends, many of you might argue that electronic music doesn't count as music, but my dear fellows, I heartily disagree. These boys from Toronto take what you previously know and love, turn it around 180, and show it to you in a completely new light. As is everyone on this list, they are good at what they do. Instead of the same old formula of a few blips and beeps and then a repeating line ala Max Headroom or completely obliterating the song and pretending it's a remix, they distill its best qualities and then make it their own.

4) Beirut-I blame Maija for this one. Who would have thought that songs that so much remind me of the old monotone "traditional" Latvian recordings would actually touch a place of fondness? In fact, it was watching Zach Condon walk down a Parisian street with a ragtag bunch of musicians playing whatever they could get their hands on that had me at hello. Although younger than even my sister, Mr. Condon with his larger than life tenor just gets-it-right when portraying the old world. At the same time, he mixes together several musical styles, therefore, succeeding in not just repeating what has been done before.

5)Dodos-If you think that there's only so much that you can do with a guitar and set of drums, then you're standing inside the box that the Dodos have long abandoned. Having been lucky to see them live in the act, a great deal of power and passion lies in their small skinny west coast bodies. Being that their new album Visiter is being so well received, i'm interested to see where they'll go next.

KABLAMMA!

2008-04-26T19:36:00.007-04:00

Look out NYC, you'll never know what hit ya. Mara's comin' back to town.

My thoughts exactly.

Back to the Future.

2008-04-25T23:11:00.005-04:00

By very odd coincidence, I met a psychic the other day. And she told me that although I will remain where I am for some time, this will not be my ultimate location, nor will I return to where I came from.

I was a traveller in a past life and will never be fixed in one place.

#62.3 - Menomena - Wet and Rusting

2008-04-25T23:06:00.001-04:00

Can there be happiness more pure than this?

hanging on the telephone.

2008-04-11T15:14:00.006-04:00

embellished for literary purposes, but otherwise all true.

i ended up calling in the middle of the night. try as had for several hours to contain myself, i reached my bursting point and ended up dialing your number. of course, even though i should have been asleep, i knew you wouldn't be. you'd be up working. our schedules were always different that way.
"tell me a funny story" i shot out of the gate, which took you aback because we both knew that behind it was the loaded, but unsaid, "i want you, i need you, you're the only one who can be that person for me right now."
you listen is the truth of it. you've always listened when i really really needed it, at other times not, but you have an impeccable measure of when it needs to be done. and all this despite your own self, whether you feel like listening or not, whether you can handle it at the time. i'm emotionally selfish.
for some reason i hesitate initially, as though you're not going to pick up on it, though i know you are, i need to hear your ok first. given permission, my speech is like a river going over the falls, tumbling over rocks, rapidly hurdling toward instinctive conclusion without regard to what is in the way. i can't quite put it into words, i secretly wish i could show you, so that you're in on it too. and as much as i am there talking, i am in my head as well, and as a result everything is jumbled up as a puzzle. but you're quicker than that, you pick up the pieces, and do all of the right things: genuinely and strongly offer your help, empathize with me, then finally hit me with the truth, that which i haven't even processed in my own mind yet.
i can come up for air.
i contentedly listen to what you have to share, genuinely interested, no longer being distracted by the pangs of my own self. of course, you don't launch into anything as deeply as i do, and after a while we wish each other well and say goodnight.

pretending it's just another normal conversation between two normal people on a normal wednesday night.

feline colony.

2008-04-07T22:53:00.003-04:00

life is a series of simple moments.

2008-04-03T19:37:00.003-04:00

last night i dreamt that we were in new york, drinking tea in an old lady's apartment on a long black bench. carefully, i sat next to you and you put your arm around me, carefully. i was teetering off of the end of the bench, shifting my weight toward you and as i looked up at you, you slowly shifted towards me, and we kissed.

'New Rose' (1976)

2008-03-31T19:35:00.002-04:00

Dear God,
Thank you for giving us bands like the Damned.
Sincerely Yours,
Mara

fifteen.

2008-03-30T15:19:00.009-04:00

around this age i found a battered cassette on the ledge behind the kitchen stove that introduced me to the lyrical greatness of Leonard Cohen. i remember my aunt telling me how much she had loved him when she was that age. the solitary, rhythmic monotone still reminds me of sitting in my bed, writing through the angst of my teenagerdom.

recently, I came across a fantastic set of covers done by the Walkmen (they require a whole different set of stories), diligently captured by the good people over at Daytrotter. go check out their take on Leonard.

thirteen.

2008-03-30T15:15:00.002-04:00

i said.

2008-03-29T21:06:00.006-04:00

no one likes to feel as though their life has been decided for them. to feel fully reliant upon oneself means experiencing the joy of the fact that even though all failures are your own,

so are your successes.

dreams in waking.

2008-03-26T19:35:00.005-04:00

in the late fall, when all of the leaves had fallen and the days darkened already in the afternoon, columbia would string lights up on the trees on their main walkway. this was always done with the grandiosity of a state visit, an army of black-clothed men balancing on ladders with wires strewn across the way, marking each branch with the precise amount of glowing pieces and hiding all additional wires from view, making the larger statement that the university itself was grand and precise and perfectly-thought out. once completed, the lit trees gave an air of romance, exaggerated one hundred times over by the humongous black wrought iron gates and the stone path, all of which was eclipsed by the old architecture surrounding. the trees were perfectly linear, branches cut back and tamed, establishing two parallell rows traversing the width of the university, only leaving an open space in the middle for the larger-than-life view of both classically styled libraries (one used, one for show). there were fleeting moments that someone would stop and look up into the trees, somehow expecting to steal away a piece of the light and stillness. in a different world, we would have been glad to pause and drink hot beverages on the steps or to sit and read poetry that reflected the mood of the cooling weather. but we were hurried, harried, and only had the brief line of small lights to enjoy before scurrying off to another project or things that just had to get done. those were the times that we dressed up into the most absurd winter outfits, large knit hats and scarves with bare legs, spring dresses with layers of sweaters, representative of our wish to remain somewhat bohemian, yet show off our priviledged student status. on lucky days when someone had a date, or the roommate who couldn't write another paper dragged you out, a little more time was spent beneath the trees, and perhaps a run to the hungarian pastry shop, if there were a few extra dollars to spare. you laughed and talked about the adam sandler movies you'd seen, reflecting how young and anti-elite (in hiding) were really were, while i trailed behind quietly, breathing into my cup, forcing steam to rise across my face.

when i think about the four years of my life spent within the four blocks of that school, of all the hours i must have spent running back and forth, the classes, the people, the books, the things to do, the opportunities to be had... out of everything, what i still remember most are the lights.

Referenced below.

2008-03-12T18:15:00.001-04:00

that's DR. sue to you

2008-03-11T10:05:00.006-04:00

When I grow up, I want to be a serious writer who writes about whatever the heck I please and still be highly respected. This includes making crazy links from songs to scientific research.

Star of the County Down

2008-03-09T17:11:00.009-04:00

for Mac.

My grandfather was a sailor in his youth. As can be typical of sailors, he had quite a few stories about his years traveling. He was a tall and handsome man, visible even to us at the point that much had already faded. He was also a reserved man, and it was that quality that made the times he spent whispering snippets of his stories to us little cailins that much more precious. His stories were otherwordly--the Irish have a knack for treading the line between real and supernatural. Thinking now, there was one in particular that writes like an old ballad, that I still remember vividly, sitting in the corner of my grandparents' living room, rapt with attention. As an adult, I sometimes wondered whether this story included the other very Irish characteristic of embelishment, but that really is here nor there. What follows is my best attempt at doing it justice.

It was the 1940s, right after the war, and his ship was docked in County Cork, the first time he had been back to Ireland in over 6 months. Although his family was originally from Cork, he essentially grew up in the metropolis of Dublin, so this was still somewhat foreign to him. There normally wasn't much to do in this little town, though by some force of luck, the village fair was in town for the week. On a meager sailor's pay, this was perfect, as he could earn a bit of extra money and free food working at one of the booths, even though the oddness of the carnie regulars put him off. They put him at a knock-down-the-milk-bottles booth, surrounded by giant shelves of cupie dolls. It was right next to a small black tent, covered completely and set back from the others, which he knew was the place where men met to bet on cards. As darkness fell, they would saunter in, travelling gamblers, in dark coats and hats pulled down over their faces, only the glint of their pocket watches or an occassional pistol giving them away. Night after night, they came in. Grandfather purposefully never paid much attention to their dealings, thinking it better not to get mixed up with that sort. And just as well, he normally closed up for the night hours before they were through.

On the third day something quite different caught his eye, a petit young woman fresh as the countryside, with beautiful blue eyes and raven hair. Black Irish they used to call it. Her body was lithe and her walk more of a dance than anything else. Her hair had blue velvet ribbons tied in; she passed by several times before he realized that she must be part of the show. Later that day, during his lunch, he followed her at a distance until they both came to the far field where a several families had set out their lunches on blankets and a few old timers sat precipitously on unfolded wooden chairs. She carefully stepped past them all until she had reached the edge of the crowd, then turned about. Only when she began to sing the most beautiful version of Carrickfergus he had ever heard, did he notice the small group of musicians to her left. From that day forth, he took his lunch in the field, watching Carra McConnell sing. All in all, he only had eleven days in port, and with the work, they passed quickly. He could not work up the nerve to speak with Carra and felt it was best, as he was about to leave anyhow, so he continued to watch from afar.

In the blackness of his last night, after the crowd had filed away to bed and he was closing his booth, he suddenly heard shouting from the black tent--some man desperately arguing his loss. He turned away, and the shouting soon dissipated into shuffling, drunken steps. Fortunately, a sheet covered the front of the booth and he didn't have to look the poor sod in the face. They soon passed. The manager came round and paid him for his time and he filled one of the bottles with water for his long walk to the ship. he headed towards Carra's field--a shortcut. He reached it and began to cross, aiming his gaze at a large rowan tree swaying in the middle. As he neared, he noticed dark figures moving, so he slowed and quieted his approach. It was a squat, bullish man in a crumpled suit. By his shuffle, grandfather knew that it was the same man from the card tent. But his heart quickly dropped to his feet, as he realized that the man had another, smaller person--a woman--that he was dragging by the wrists. It was Carra. She was obviously putting up a fight, but her petite frame was no match for his more powerful one, and she whimpered and pleaded with him. Acting on instinct, grandfather crept up behind the tree, as close as he could get to survey the situation. The man, though strong, was stumbling due to the drink, and as he turned his back, a full milk bottle crashed down over his head. He crumpled to the ground. Grandfather quickly scooped up Carra and ran away from the fair, towards the small lights of the town, and only when they had reached the first row of houses did he put her down. She had been roughed up, but was not seriously hurt, and he could not help but gaze into the sorrow in her eyes as he asked her whether he could assure that she reached her home safely. She nodded, and they proceeded in silence along the streets until they reached the water, not too far from his ship, and a small and old blue house. She bowed her head and walked towards the door, but stopped not five steps short. Turning and taking his hands, she stood up on her toes, leaning ever so slightly against his chest, and gave him a kiss.

The next morning as he shipped out, he swears that on the shore, beyond the crowd that had gathered, he saw Carra McConnell in her Sunday dress, waving to him with her handkerchief.

a rainy day.

2008-03-07T21:50:00.012-05:00

today was the perfect day for hot coffee and reading curled up in blankets. the fog rolled in around noontime and hung thick, barely above the ground. as night fell, porch lights distorted into free-glowing orbs and rain began to fall, laying out a carpet of grass, wet and green.
my favorite weather is warm rain. it is the one time that i truly feel like the heavens open up and envelop me. tonight, taking a moment, i laid down in the grass and let the drops fall on my closed eyes.

the morning began early, at a smoky club called the grey eagle in asheville. despite being ready to fall asleep at about 6pm Thursday night, I trudged on right through drawing, and gained enough momentum to go to the felice brothers show.

let me tell you, kids, you have not seen passionate and true american balladry like this since the seventies. i hadn't heard a single song, as i went to the show on a name and a hunch, but this performance sealed the felice brothers a top spot in my heart.

it's been a long time since i've stayed out this late, or since i've been to several shows in one week. all i have to say is,
look out world.

jose gonzalez.

2008-03-05T19:40:00.003-05:00

orange peel, asheville. march 4, 2008.

the fonz.

2008-03-02T12:39:00.010-05:00

i've been trying to up my cool quotient since i was a kid, but have never been quite successful in being effortlessly together.

though i emulate those women who never have a single hair out of place and there are times in more recent memory that i quite nearly pull it off, you can never fully take the mara out of me. fact is, i'm an all around awkward kind of person, at times lucky enough to be still acknowledged by those around me. i say things at the wrong times and have reactions that even make me ask wtf in retrospect. i'd like to think that at times i cover well, with stupid jokes, and a childish sense of cuteness that i will use to my advantage to distract from the actual truth. actually, it's not always that i'm awkward, but that i make other people feel awkward in my presense. by myself, i'm usually quite comfortable in my oddness, quite oblivious to anything outside of my world. i make up songs and sing loudly to myself, i speak in nonsense words and sounds, and talk to my dog as though he understands it, i make screwed up faces both on purpose and not, and dare i not mention what my sister finds especially hilarious--i insist on talking in the most serious of manners about the most menial of things without even realizing it. but out in the social world it is another story. in the words of paulie bleeker--i try really hard.

dancing in my head.

2008-03-02T10:19:00.004-05:00

asheville, how do i love thee? let me count the ways...
jose gonzalez, march 4th, the felice bros, march 6th, N.E.R.D., march 25th, the dodos (yeah yeah!), march 27th, the everybodyfields, april 12th, andre ethier (deadly snakes), april 26th, french kicks, april 27th, josh ritter, may 2nd, british sea power, may 4th...

major mega update.

2008-02-29T18:46:00.007-05:00

ok, ok, i admit i have been a little m.i.a.

stop writing me emails and leaving messages on my phone, i'm ok and alive and have just been a little bit busy. or actually, a lot busy.

but i am here now. and i have several things to share.

i only realized late this afternoon that today is leap day, or however you refer to it, and oh, that must be a sign of some sort, or involve a superstition, but really, in my world, it means that i get to go around shouting "happy leap day!" in inexplicable volumes to some poor sods.

so here goes, in no particular order:

exhibit 1: wherein the title character finds her first non-college roommate somehow transported from brooklyn to asheville and meets at a little bakery where they speak for a length of time whilst drinking orangina. and roommate falls asleep.just kidding. that was some poor photography on my part. and roommate will remain nameless to retain her innocence, although her picture has now been emblazoned on the inter-net. forgive me.in reality though, it was a lesson in adulthood. seeing each other many years later, what our lives have become, and where they are going, was infinitely interesting. and that they intersected at a point further down the line makes you wonder what else is in store.

exhibit 2: my romantic valentine's date, below.
exhibit 3: my poorly executed photo in the middle of the night and far away, from last wednesday's eclipse.

exhibit 4: unaccompanied by a photograph, a wonderful story was recounted to me this week about a very romantic (read: as in the sense of a novel, and not in the sense of love) chance meeting between sister and norwegian pop singer, subtle, and real, and sweet. both tired, echoing each other's statements, speaking in the third person. latter wearing a gigantic fur hat. these are the mystical stories that ny is made of and which i can love from afar. am convinced that the encounter will end up on said singer's blog, am coercing sister to document this in the way only she can.

exhibit 5, final exhibit: finally, finally. yesterday evening attended a figure drawing session for the first time in almost exactly 10 years. had feelings of extreme intimidation and have to admit that committing to sitting in the same place for long stretches of time was extremely difficult, almost painful at times, as was focusing and being a patient and diligent observer. but it's something i wish to do and i must perservere and practice and actually put my mind to something, one thing, as opposed to letting it flit back and forth, never stopping. and in the effort to break myself from the extreme fear of criticism am putting up my last 15 minute sketch, which took me approximately 11 minutes to draw, and 4 minutes to sit uncomfortably still.

you asked for it, you got it. my whole life's story.

p.s., postcript, for you: "oh pointy birds, o pointy, pointy."

The Dodos - Fools

2008-02-29T18:35:00.001-05:00

This was the beat that drove me through my long haul on Saturday the 23rd.

shout and feel it.

2008-02-19T21:16:00.005-05:00

It was my Gram who first introduced me to jazz. She was a grand person, that's why we called her Gram, the title suited her perfectly--a woman who had perfect posture and smoked and drank dry brandy Manhattans with olives and brought us to restaurants with live music, the kind of fancy places where most people looked down upon children's presence (we had to mind our manners of course, and when we were very good were allowed to put dollars in the piano man's jar to request songs). She would tell us stories of our step-grandfather, of all the big band records he collected and their nights out on the town dancing. Ella became a familiar name before i can remember her not being so, and she exerted her presence constantly throughout the house from her proper domain--the record player. With the addition of wooden spoons, we became part of her entourage. I only found out later, that my proper Gram had moonlighted as a lounge singer briefly, top-of-piano-sitting and all.

At age thirteen i fell for a boy and through connecting circumstances fell in love with swing as well, devouring fragments of words and melodies; one artist, one song, leading to the next. Django became my main man then; some people still wonder how it is that an 80s baby, someone who doesn't even play guitar, could become so obsessive over a 1930s gypsy. My answer remains: just listen and you'll know.

My piano teacher never allowed me to play this kind of music, she was from the old old school and probably would have slapped my fingers with a ruler if she knew i thought of anything other than Mozart and Schubert. I never knew that flat-finger playing existed, nor that it could sound so wonderful and dischordant at the same time. Nor that you could still properly play a piano while doing so. These truths i've only learned very recently. (and i know i have a lot more to learn).

Another more important boy cemented my relationship with jazz, turned what i knew upside down and inside out, topsy turvy and all around. For a introverted girl who intellectualizes everything, feels the comfort in memorizing exact layouts and pieces, it was a little much at times, letting loose and letting the music lead you. But it is that freedom and that beauty that still draws me to it.

And the fact that there's always more to hear. And that every time, i'll hear something different.

in a sentimental mood.

2008-02-16T22:59:00.008-05:00

the world sits alone at night and all goes quiet. the wind raps a screen against the stone foundation of the veranda and, in the distance, car doors slam and music grows lesser in volume, the dying out of a late night get-together. being that there are no metropolis lights to compete for the attention of the sky, the stars steal the show, shining brightly from above in a navy black sky. orion travels eastward. the clouds are barely visible, sluggishly completing their journey as only shadows. the darkness sways above all like a jazz piece in a minor key.

into the stillness, silent whispers of secrets and longing echo as most prepare for bed, wading through the brief blackness until the world again opens into the uninhibited technicolor of their dreams. a few still sit under lights, throwing contrast into rooms that should otherwise be dark. they sit and think and work and fight off the idea of putting their bodies to rest because either they can not or they will not. the energy of the day slowly dissipates until even the unresting eventually can go no longer and give up to the seductive music of the night. they gently pull away from their thoughts, bid them a good evening, and plunge headlong into the darkness.

nada.

2008-02-13T22:14:00.002-05:00

my mind is a complete blank.

Beirut - Elephant Gun

2008-02-03T10:26:00.001-05:00

Just a bit of upscale frivolity to start off the week.

i talk out loud like you're still around.

2008-02-03T09:47:00.000-05:00

god my hair was long. and orange.
we used to drive by the dairy queen on hwy 61 all the time, because, it just happened that you couldn't get to the high school or menards or the cities without passing it. and it was impossible not to have your eye drawn to the giant "foot long 99 cents" sign (never any punctuation), which hasn't changed over the course of the last 30 years, with the exception of the occasional addition of chili or cheese fries. even when the rest of it was boarded up for the winter. you would have to think that running an ice cream shop in mn would be a perilous occupation.
this week i dove head first into a long neglected rubbermaid full of photos. the original idea was to find maija some pictures of my surprise trip to london in 2001 (alas, i found the negatives, but no prints). but, of course, upon launching in like a puppy with a stuffed animal, i started to go through every single one, piles surrounding my bed, sorting, fervently analyzing the details and harkening back to the day, the smell, the feel. there were those that made me smile, silly ventures down the brooklyn streets wearing tights and sneakers in the middle of winter (take that, lily allen). of friends caught unawares, turning around and getting memorialized. and there were those with lost friends, harkening back to the time that we spent together, cherishing the short, beautiful moments we had. still, there were those full of warmth--family and friends, huddled together, you sleeping on the couch, arm cocked back behind your head pushing your neck forward at such an odd angle. filmstrips replaying in my head with choppy dialogue, better recollections of the touch and feel associated with that particular time.
all in all, a cathartic experience, one that, although rooted in the past, riled to project me forward.

et deux.

2008-01-28T19:43:00.000-05:00

part two. stillwater.