new new york.

An impromptu trip to New York in June (it feels like this summer is nothing except one impromptu trip to the East Coast) to visit my farthest-away niece. Family photographs and familiar places made unfamiliar with the passing of time. New museums and old museums in the span of a few quick days. At the […]

delicate.

S and I leave in a few hours for a camping trip in the Marion Mountains. We bought special socks for an eleven-mile hike in Mount San Jacinto. You have to take the Palm Springs aerial tramway to get there. I’ve been on it before and I took pictures the whole way up to distract […]

sleepless.

I haven’t been sleeping. I’ve been away from Los Angeles for a week and a half now. Five days ago my eye doctor told me I had astigmatism. You should have been wearing glasses for fifteen years, he said, before berating me for the amount of eyeliner I used. I picked out my first pair of glasses later that […]

skin & bones.

I learned recently that a girl I used to know had died. I found her obituary online and it hinted at suicide. All the Facebook messages—it was her birthday the other week— said things like always my love you are so missed you were taken too early But what they should have said, maybe, was that […]

a home in art.

What I miss most are the museums. I spoke to a friend the other day about moving to Los Angeles. She said— I didn’t have anybody but I had a place. I went to the museum almost every day. I sometimes didn’t even look at the art. I just needed somewhere to go and I needed […]

the first sentence.

  I lived in New York for four years and never really fell in love with it. There are parts I love, sure, like the Bethesda Fountain and the three archways under the terrace in Central Park. The Audubon Center in Prospect Park. The Green-Wood Cemetery. And there are streets I love, blocks I love, […]

hit & run.

My mother ran my father over when I was nine or ten years old. I was in the backseat at the time and I remember the unmistakably bump of car-over-body and for a moment it was almost worse—the car kept rolling backwards, my mother trying to jump over the middle console to get from the passenger’s seat […]

roman candles.

…the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars. […]

photo story/ coffee shop.

I took this photo the second summer I lived in New York. I’d just picked up my film camera again after many many years of neglect. I had basically no idea how to use it, aside for being able to read a light meter. This is still one of my favorite photographs from the four […]