louise gluck. you're killing me, so good. title poem from her new book.

"But what really is the point of the lighthouse?
This is north, it says.
Not: I am your safe harbor."

passed a street sign outside a bookstore in Chelsea today. it was advertising Louise Gluck's new book of poems, Faithful and Virtuous Night.

"When the train stops, the woman said, you must get on it. But how will I know, the child asked, it is the right train? It will be the right train, said the woman, because it is the right time." 

today. half hour long walk through the perfect autumn weather.

and then this happened- yes, mr. david chang's hand at "al pastor" and "shrimp & grits"

thank you new york city, for bringing me a taste of the south.

let's have tea.

hour-long walk through prospect park. oh! the leaves

finding his leftover haemul pajeon (korean seafood pancake) and eating it while walking through the leaves

feeling the particular beauty of real seasons changing. in every sense of the phrase.

crushes of the moment

- Thao and the Get Down Stay down- Live at Bonnaroo Spotify Session
It's too hard for habits
My patience is done with me
I want to live in times that touch
I want to stay when my temper beats

Holy roller roll over me
I'm looking for something else to see
Lasts so long
Hurts so bad
But I want love in the aftermath
I want love in the aftermath

- sometimes late at night i secretly connect my iphone to the speakers in the big exercise room at the gym and dance to Sia's Chandelier

- love it or change it

- sweet potato or butternut squash on toast. yeah ok, cliche autumn menu, so sue me

- golden delicious apples

- uncle earl's the last goodbye and black-eyed susie (yes, i totally work out to bluegrass music)

“Though on the boat I write, I shoot. On the boat let’s face it I’m held. In its waves, its vagueness, in its water. I see only water. Water doesn’t answer. No land ahead. Just water. So my dilemma shrinks to secondary and abstract. How will I live. I want to stay in this primary thing that moves.”
— Eileen Myles, “The Importance of Being Iceland.”

I had the pleasure of meeting Om this weekend, and in the short 15 minute conversation I had with him I could see why is he one of the most influential people on the internet (and maybe off the internet, too).

He didn't make small talk. He cut to the chase and asked me what I was doing in New York City, and what I am looking for in life. He looked into my eyes and said that I didn't look content here, that he saw that I am a Texas girl who loves the open road and skies.

While that may be true, I spent the rest of the weekend reflecting on what I am doing here, really. I do believe that here, all paths intersect. If you want, you can find nothing here- and if you want, you will find the world. New York City is what you paint it to be, whether it be sadness or desperation or hope or anxiety or stillness.

(I also had the pleasure of attending the L.A. Dance Project performance at the BAM. Aptly, Millepied's piece played upon the themes of "Stay" and "Go")

Why did I stay here? I am obsessed with how people connect in a place as anonymous and dense as this city. The sometimes superficial intimacy that happens in public without hesitation or thought. The profound roots that grow from only the most stoic passions. As cliche as it is, I am here as wide-eyed witness to these connections and dreams. And when you go toward where you look, you will find yourself there faster and with less struggle than you initially anticipated.


--

As a more lighthearted postscript, my friend Nate of Gigzolo posted this article the other day. The title is a bit misleading, but I am taking some of her lessons learned to heart. So yes, though I find myself resisting, I will believe in love again. I will start to travel again. I will say yes to the men who ask me on "real" dates, though they be few and far between in this city. I will break down. I will stand up. I will be nicer than I want to be. and I will take photographs along the way.

On the train to go apple picking. Gripping on the last edges of autumn!

today, S. sent this to me

Concerning the Atoms of the Soul
by John Glenday

Someone explained once how the pieces of what we are
fall downwards at the same rate
as the Universe
The atoms of us, falling towards the centre

of whatever everything is. And we don't see it.
we only sense their slight drag in the lifting hand.
That's what weight is, that communal process of falling.
Furthermore,these atoms carry hooks, like burrs,

hooks catching like hooks, like clinging to like,
that's what keeps us from becoming something else,
and why in early love, we sometimes
feel the tug of the heart snagging on another's heart.

Only the atoms of the soul are perfect spheres
with no means of holding on to the world
or perhaps no need for holding on,
and so they fall through our lives catching

against nothing, like perfect rain,
and in the end, he wrote, mix in that common well of light
at the centre of whatever the suspected
centre is, or might have been.

Blissed out from a beautiful autumn day hiking through the Catskills with beautiful people.

My knees and feet hurt, but god, the color of the leaves, the light, the way the woods smell after a good hard rain. Hot chai rooibos at the top of the mountain. Tons of peanut shell tossing afterwards.

dammit, Sara Bareilles. you're killing me.


Manhattan

You can have Manhattan
I know it’s for the best
I’ll gather up the avenues
And leave them on your doorstep
And I’ll tip toe away
So you won’t have to say
You heard me leave

You can have Manhattan
I know it’s what you want
The bustle and the buildings
The weather in the fall
And I’ll bow out of place
To save you some space
For somebody new

You can have Manhattan
Cause I can’t have you


You can have Manhattan
The one we used to share
The one where we were laughing
And drunk on just being there
Hang on to the reverie
Could you do that for me?
Cause I’m just too sad to

You can have Manhattan
Cause I can’t have you

And so it goes
One foot after the other
Til black and white begin to color in
And I know
That holding us in place
Is simply fear of what’s already changed


You can have Manhattan
I’ll settle for the beach
And sunsets facing westward
With sand beneath my feet
I’ll wish this away
Just missing the days
When I was one half of two
You can have Manhattan
Cause I can’t have you

Every single day I have a plethora of things that I want to write down. I have notebooks strewn all over my desk, and meanderings recorded on various apps and web note-taking tools. It may be haphazard, but I believe that the point is just to WRITE. So I try to remove the obstacles of being strict with myself on organization about what goes where, and what thoughts should be kept in which places. Sometimes this backfires, and I end up writing nothing at all because there is no focus (much like this blog, ha). But I'll gladly accept this issue in exchange for the freedom that I feel.

Today I walked home, got into my robe, lit a candle, and made mint tea. I sat down and began to write, and organize, and think about some projects I want to start on.

As a Gemini (yeah, okay, tease me about believing in astrology but seriously sometimes it is spooky), I am flighty and easily distracted. I jump between projects a lot. a LOT. (You have no idea how many blog posts I write that go unpublished because of this). But I think in the end, the passion that comes with it all is what pushes me through to get the important things done.

In the middle of it all, as I curated playlists, reviewed some of my photos on flickr, created project plans for stuff (ugh, talk about the creative and business sides of me crashing into one!), I received a surprising email from a former professor of mine. He was requesting a photo of mine to use for a personal project. After all these years, I wondered why he reached out to me.

He originally requested that I send him something that already exists in my archives. I toyed with this idea, but I offered to shoot something specific for him if he preferred.

His response made my heart flip.

This is something I think isn't shot in a shoot but is found in a mood, if you know what I mean, and I thought of you because you're a connoisseur of moods.

Sometimes you go through life wondering if anyone understands your purpose, or what you strive to do. With art, with writing, with music, with your every day presence. I was floored that after all these years, M captured one of my core artistic intents in one simple sentence.