Snapshots

The view from my kitchen window into the back yard, into the sunrise. Window jewelry by my dear friend Luisa.

Moon over my sister’s house. We had tacos tonight.

My niece slept over. We binged Stranger Things. Up to season 3 now. Frankie quietly decided to sit on her lap. He chose her. She was so excited.

Trying to watch Twin Peaks

Sunset light at one of my favorite intersections in NY, the roads leading to the Flatiron, with Madison Square Park nestled in the middle. A lot of memories in this little patch of land, working at the internet startup across the street from the Flatiron, in the “glory” days of the Internet speculative bubble, a job I started when I was in grad school. My first New York media job. I’m still in that world. We used to go have drinks after work at this chic little wine bar half a block down from the Flatiron. Or take the subway down to Soho and have wine at the glorious Cafe Noir, which is now closed, sadly. My favorite bar in New York. Gorgeous wait staff from Brazil, Costa Rica, Morocco. Delicious food. Windows open to the sidewalks. Mayhem. Made lifelong friends at that crazy job. We were all artists. Photographers, writers, actors, musicians. It was when artists could still get jobs like this. Not corporate. But lots of money flying around. It would soon crash but I was there in its heyday. I used to go and eat lunch in Madison Square Park.

Hotel life. Hotel reading. And writing. I love hotels.

The iconic instantly recognizable Tiffany’s blue boxes. At Tiffany & Co. HQ. Because that’s where my weird life has brought me.

The quadrangle where I went to college. Foggy Sunday morning after church with my mother. I walked over there from the Dunkin Donuts. Nobody was around. The university library where my dad worked for 40 years is across the way, hidden in the fog. Ghosts.