The last few days of May were fun, really fun. Lots of time with amazing friends - the garden is in full bloom! There was a late-night-birthday-dance-off and binges of watching superhero movies while making funfetti cookies (which make a delicious breakfast). A stolen shirt from a cute boy keeps us warm in an air conditioned office.And now onto June...the time of year where everything after work seems golden. The buildings glow and the sky changes from blue to pink to fire orange and on... the sun is so pretty.Please bring more sunshine and less rain. We certainly don't want it like the summer of rain a few years back, although we do love playing in the rain.June 21 will bring the longest day of the year and our friend will visit his childhood home of Columbia. We are ecstatic for him!This month will also bring a trip to the cornland, with a much needed reunion with some of our favorite people in the world. It's been far too long. There will be tears and hugs and cheers. Yay love and weddings!We will finally get to play in the dirt, now that we've made contact with the community garden owner.It's going to be a good summer.

To furminate means to use this special brush on the kitties that takes out a lot of their hair. (I wonder if they new it would become a new verb for some). This brush is amazing - you can practically make another cat from the hair it pulls out!Kidding!Our little Sweetums actually loves to be furminated. Sometimes I throw the hair out the window because it seems like it could make a nice warm nest for little birdies (although, maybe not considering it's  c-a-t  fur).In any case, this weekend I took it to a new level of convenience...Furminating on the fire escape. Hayden took these as I told him he had to shut the window so the hair wouldn't blow in the house.Happy kitty, happy house :)

*source*Maybe things were simpler...in another life. Perhaps we were rabbits, prancing lazily about an open meadow. Or flowers with deep roots. Or clouds.I'm fully aware that life as a rabbit might be hard (hello prey!) or that being a flower, you might experience an over or under-watering. And that clouds aren't always fluffy, like cotton candy - sometimes they are thunderous and frightening.I suppose it's understanding (well, trying to understand) this life, that makes us crave simplicity (especially in the moments that are so-damn-turbulent and well, trying).Ahh life...you are a beautiful mess and mystery. 

Some new paintings in progress.... 

"You’ll have moments with someone that are so intense, it’ll feel like you’ve been electrocuted back to life. You’ll hold on to these moments for a long time. They’ll give you hope when you’re going through the motions."i. | ii.  

Yesterday was the first beach day of the season! It may not have been as sunny as I would have liked, but it was still very fun. Chasing the dog, playing in the sand, and climbing sand dunes. Who could ask for a better Sunday?Hooray for the long days and warm weather.

Pause.Take photos,And breathe deeply...Wonder about the owners of all of these cameos...And wonder why these cats love sitting on lumps!Feel silly. The other night I was painting and forgot to wash it off the next morning.  Daydream. It keeps me hopeful. This is a mural I did with the kids I volunteer with. Laugh. Silly squirrel!At least he's not wasteful!

*source*I didn't write this, but it was exactly what I needed to read today. And I couldn't agree more. Thank goodness there are other believers out there.**Because the Ally Sheedy character in The Breakfast Club is wrong, and you don’t have to let your heart die as you get older. I love my idealism, my naiveté, my stubborn insistence that I’m going to end up happy, and I refuse to let anyone tell me that I need to or have to settle or to tell me that compromise and negotiation needs to make me quietly sad all the time.Because I want what my grandparents have, a life that fits perfectly into faded photo albums and gives comfort and quilts to those around me, who aspire to know a love as inspiring and effortlessly photogenic as mine. I want love to be more than just faith, more than an empty longing and more than wishes that are never fulfilled, and like Stuart Smalley, I believe we can find the love we deserve if we believe we deserve it, if we know that we are worthy of being loved.Because Julia Roberts movies lied to us, because Bridget Jones lied to us, because Cosmo lied to us and there isn’t just somebody out there waiting for us, and we need to have the gumption to go get ourselves loved. Love isn’t just something that we should allow to exist in storybooks and novels; we should not accept that good sex should be what other people are having or people in magazines are having.Because the moment we let ourselves refuse that, we deny ourselves joy and hope; we allow ourselves to stop striving; we let ourselves think we deserve pain and heartache. Demanding a love that fulfills us helps us to demand a life that excites us, one that we would want to tell our grandchildren about, and helps us to push ourselves and take the chances to get what we want, rather than becoming complacent, like the emotional equivalent of the amorphous space people in Wall-E.Because believing that I can fully love another human being helps me remember that I can give my broken, egoistic, flawed self to something greater than me. I don’t need to believe in God to trust in a higher power, a force that compels us to strive, to ache, to want more than we have and accept nothing less than what fulfills us.Because I believe that romance and the act of loving does not have to be perfect and should not be perfect and look forward to the struggle of loving someone, the ways in which the difficult act of love forces me to be more selfless, more giving, more honest and more tough. I believe that love makes you a better person, that it need not make you co-dependent, symbiotic or weak but that it can make you stronger, because being a lover sometimes means being a fighter, too.Because I know for a fact that I don’t need to be in love to find myself, but I still want to continue to explore new parts of myself through that diving off into the romantic abyss, the fear that giving yourself to this transcendent unknown entails. I want to learn to give more fully and openly, and one day, I hope to give my mother — whose body only had the strength to give birth to me — the other child she always wanted, but one she won’t ever have to raise and can complain about me to on the phone when she thinks I’m not home.Because having had a terrible relationship with my dad my whole life, I know how important it is to be surrounded by people who love you, who affirm you, who help ground you in a sense of community and give you a purpose. I’m tired of being a child of divorce and know that my life doesn’t have to be broken homes, broken families and broken relationships, that I have the ability to go out and create community, to give affirmation and love to others.Because I believe that marriage shouldn’t belong to anyone in particular and that love deserves recognition and protection, even if the state of North Carolina disagrees with me. I know that someday having the right to marry whoever I want doesn’t mean I have to get married and have 2.5 children; I have the option to choose the life I want, with whomever I want.Because someday I’ll be ready for that choice and in the meantime, being a romantic makes me open to the life around me, to being in love with not just one person but a fractured, volatile world that needs my love, my care and my attention. I want to wake up every day and be ready to stand silent with awe at what the world has in store, whether those are small miracles, the biggest thing I could ever imagine or the romances beyond imagination.Because every time I doubt the future, every time I doubt myself, every time I doubt my ability to love and be loved I need to be proven wrong, to renew my faith in myself and in other people. I need to believe that life has a million romances in store for me, the ones that give me children and stress headaches and something to do with my 401K, the ones that keep me out drinking way past my bed time on a Saturday night, the ones I can find hidden between lines of Faulkner.Because I sincerely think that without fearlessly loving, even if it seems silly, pointless or hopeless, life isn’t worth living. I want to die saying that, even if love doesn’t exist, even if I end up unfulfilled by my career and personal relationships and even if I die alone in a ditch somewhere or half-eaten by wild dogs, I believed in the ecstasy of life. I dared to believe.--Nico Lang

Wow. This cover blew me away. So, good.

Last weekend I did a photo shoot for a friend. He was building his portfolio and I thought it would be nice to have some good photos taken of me (instead of the normal horrible ones Hayden sends around on my phone as a prank!).It was awesome. It was fun hanging out with Francesca and making new friends. Although I did need a shot of whisky to loosen me up! I was a bit nervous to start, but soon enough we were laughing, playing dress up and wearing outfits that made me imagine walking around in a world of candy.Thanks to John (and check out his great portfolio), Kayleigh (this girl is so cool and has such amazing style), and JoAnna for the fantastic make up!xo**

 

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I was waiting for it to break me. Or something. The pressure and the weight had been so overwhelming. It's funny how your head, heart, and your gut  (the deepest part) can have conversations with one another - yet no one is heard. Noise is created and ignored.

Until it's not anymore.

And you say the words you desperately didn't want to say.

But the moment they leave, the weight seems to dissipate.

The molecules are shifting and the time is moving. forward, forward, and on.

You wish it worked out differently. You really do.

You wish new words could be shared and new laughs could be had.

But something brings you back. To focus. To clarity. Questions abound and you're reminded that new words and new laughs will be shared. In time.

In time.

The following is not my writing, but it is a beautiful piece (as is all of her writing). It's  reassuring to me to know that there's always someone else who understands. Even if it's a someone in a story. It's still someone.MONDAY, APRIL 12, 2010on our first date i wore a navy scalloped skirt. i wore makeup. eye-makeup. concealer, even, which would have been a great comfort to my mother.and i thought, what am i doing? i was so nervous. but so damn excited.i entered the restaurant and asked the girl at the front desk if there was a man waiting for anyone. she pointed to the other side of the u-shaped counter in the bar.i exhaled. audibly.i had met him only two nights before and while i knew i thought him attractive then, i couldn't remember what he looked like. i feared i wouldn't recognize him. wouldn't be able to pick him out of a crowd.but there he was. sitting at the bar. and yup, he was cute.and god i loved how i felt as i walked toward him.i always loved how i felt walking toward him.it was the walking away that was hard.when i called to tell him that i couldn't do it anymore i tried to make it very clear that it was not that i didn't want to. i just couldn't continue in this fashion. and oh how i listened for the moment of hesitation on his side, for the moment that he would fight me. fight for me.it did not come.but i had his book. and he had my earring. and such things needed to find their way home.i offered that he leave it on his stoop and i would carry out the trade. he said such a thing was ridiculous. we could get a drink. be adults about this.but somehow the drink didn't happen. and because technically it was i who chose to end things, i swallowed this and accepted the short window he provided in which to do essentially what i had suggested in the first place.i found myself swallowing a lot over the course of our brief courtship. and never failed to be surprised (even in how it ended) by the extent to which he could disappoint me.my mother told me to let the earring go. to just let it go. ask him to put it in the mail, realize he probably wouldn't and make peace with that.but the thing was, he had all my secrets. i'd be dammed if he got the earring too.and so i went. and bumbled there at the bottom of his doorstep for about two minutes.and then i walked away. and never have i understood the story of lot's wife so well. we look back because we want to know that we're not alone. and oh how i didn't want to be alone. but i didn't. look back, that is. i gathered every remaining shred of self-worth and dignity and walked away without turning around.(and cried as i did so).i know i did the best possible thing. the relationship was unequal and unhealthy. he was selfish and i was overzealous. he was not the right guy, and i was not the right girl. and so i walked away. and i didn't look back.and yet i wished all the while that he'd come up from behind, take my hand, and say let's try just a little bit harder for just a little bit longer.because for each of his flaws i have my own. i know this.but he did not.i lack imagination. in life, i mean. i can't ever imagine things changing. or meeting someone else. and yet i know these things to be certain--more certain than anything else. but my horse-blinders are big, dark and all-encompassing.perhaps the thing to remember here is that in walking away from him, i am walking toward someone else.- meg fee**

Well, it's been a bit of a rough start. Big decisions, but we're learning.This life does a lot to us and it is what you make of it. Still, it doesn't make things easy.But we can be there for each other, send flowers in the shape of a puppy to someone who needs a smile. After all, random surprises are the best and barn owls are a good thing.You are what you love, not what loves you.

For the days your computer just makes you oh-so-frustrated...Imagine smashing it, putting the pieces into a giant slingshot, and making a new constellation in the sky.heheHappy Wednesday friends!

I won't get madAnd I won't break in two'Cause I understand youI'll take this changeAnd let my clothes soak with rainAs I study orchid bloomsAnd some can't live unless they feed on fallen leavesAnd so you'll let me down to come alive when you comfort meI've watched you change,I've heard your words rearrangeWay back from the startAnd if I did teach you anything at allI hope it was to love with all your heartAnd they open wide with imperfect symmetryAnd so you'll love like you, and I will love like meAnd to be rebornThey have to go to seedSo angel, you will have to set me free//

Deidre & the Dark1,2,3Alex Winston*source*

Sunny days in Bryant Park with no plans except to enjoy flowers...and people watching and kites...and making goofy faces (lots of them) with friends!Attempts at starting a flash mob in Grand Central Station. Except, I learned that you're not supposed to scream, "Hey folks, this is a flash mob!" (which I may/may not have done...)Isn't Grand Central so pretty?Riding the subway with your best friends to find the "secret subway station" (on the 6 train after the Brooklyn Bridge stop)...Impromptu dinner parties and grocery shopping with six people. (I was distracted by this very iridescent purple potato!)Watching friends guess silly drawings...Making breakfast dinner at midnight...This bunny bread makes me think of my new favorite book, Watership Down.Charades!Yay!

I am me.In all the world, there is no one else exactly like me. There are persons who have some parts like me, but no one adds up exactly like me. Therefore, everything that comes out of me is authentically mine because I alone choose.I own everything about me -- my body, including everything it does; my mind, including all its thoughts and ideas; my eyes, including the images of all they behold; my feelings, whatever they may be -- anger, joy, frustration, love, disappointment, excitement; my mouth, and all the words that come out of it, polite, sweet or rough, correct or incorrect; my voice, loud or soft; and all my actions, whether they be to others or to myself.I own my fantasies, my dreams, my hopes, my fears.I own all my triumphs and successes, all my failures and mistakes.Because I own all of me, I can become intimately acquainted with me. By so doing I can love me and be friendly with me in all my parts. I can then make it possible for all of me to work in my best interests.I know there are aspects about myself that puzzle me, and other aspects that I do not know. But as long as I am friendly and loving to myself, I can courageously and hopefully look for the solutions to the puzzles and for ways to find out more about me.However I look and sound, whatever I say and do, and whatever I think and feel at a given moment in time is me. This is authentic and represents where I am at that moment in time.When I review later how I looked and sounded, what I said and did, and how I thought and felt, some parts may turn out to be unfitting. I can discard that which is unfitting and keep that which proved fitting, and invent something new for that which I have discarded.I can see, hear, feel, think, say, and do. I have the tools to survive, to be close to others, to be productive, and to make sense and order out of the world of people and things outside of me.I own me, and therefore I can engineer me.I am me and I am okay.~ Virginia Satir, A Declaration of Self-Esteemphotos: pretty window display near union square taken with instagram

Hello there, April!Another year passes, marking my age and bringing lots of lovely birthday greetings (thank you, dear friends).We made new lunch friends and walked the (very) busy streets of Time Square to try Australian pies with cute and delicious faces!We tried to solve puzzles while drinking ciders and fun was had at Coney Island. The kitties snuggled and there were moments of feeling beautiful.The month will bring more adventure, including Tribeca and a film that will move people to believe in anything and everything. It sure has made me proud.So here's to you April 2012. So far, so good.*direct link*