a big-city fairy tale. most recently played music

current photos

{a photo project, 2006}

4 june 2007; monday.

When the universe exploded like a bomb, it started ticking like a bomb too. We know our sun will die, in another hundred million years or so, then the lights will go out and there will be no light to read by any more.

Jeanette Winterson, Weight


my desk, about to dive into my soft white bed

Summer in New York is full of the sentiment of being young and alive; green grass between your toes doesn't occur as often as in other places, even the vision of it is given the value of rarity, but flip flops and rooftop gardens flourish, icy drinks seem like the nectar of the gods, and looking out upon the treetops of Central Park, mojito in hand, is it possible to feel more blessed?

The above sensation courtesy of a visit to the Met this past weekend, a hedonistically pleasurable sushi dinner last weekend, the warm subway suddenly breezy tonight as arriving trains zoom along each side of me.

Job is still divine; sometimes a tad lonely, but I get a dose of solid sweet companionship this weekend, and plenty of work between now and then to tide me over.




the older things.

about this.