a tone poem to new york, in the spring -

the skies seem to have opened up on the east coast this year, first :


and the buildings of the greatest city began to shed their winter skins,
to rummage for their true grandeur and alert their guardians that yes,
this was spring, at last:


flowers are appearing:


thankfully, not all of them are printed, some are real:


art makes its seasonal reappearance:


and everyone starts to open their eyes:


the grafitti changes it's colors (how considerate!):


and shoes shed their winter husks at louboutin,
to better tempt their prey:


but, maybe, i'm just seeing things through rose colored glasses:

that's what landis said (une) -

Life is too short to resist.

so if you've ever gotten an email from me, you've seen this is my sign-off.
i tend to mumble to myself randomly alot, and much like a room full of monkeys typing until they write the full works of shakespeare by chance, sometimes i come up with something that means something to me.

let's face it. at some point, we'd all like to say "if i died tomorrow, i'd have lived a full life." personally, i can say "if i die tomorrow, i've lived more than most people will in their full lifetime.", and i think it's because, in some ways, i was raised with the above phrase in mind.

when i was four in amsterdam (true story), i ordered escargot at a restaurant. which apparently stunned the waiter, who sought confirmation from my mother. she approved, explaining that i had been taught that i was not allowed to decide that i DIDN'T like something until i actually TRIED it. and upon trying escargot, i had loved them, and she had been having trouble stopping me from ordering them everywhere we went.

it was a family rule around food that seems to have seeped into my entire life. i HATE people who say they don't like things without some form of exposure to it. there is SO much love in life (the use of CAPITAL LETTTERS, for example), why would anyone restrist their options, their taste buds, their options?

baffles the mind.

i'm not necessarily endorsing anarchy here, loves. just a healthy dose of curiousity and a willingness to taste things a little.

so i do believe that, no matter how your life unfolds, it's almost your duty to fill it to the top.

and maybe let a little spill over the rim.

what a man needs VS. what a man wants -

i think it's pretty clear by now that i'm opinionated.

and by opinionated, i mean: "generally right about most things."

now that may seem dictatorial and high handed, perhaps even a little egotistical, but i think you all know by now that i am only two of those three, and those of you who are just starting to read this blog . . . where the hell have you been?

anyway, i come to these conclusions largely out of experience (i.e. BEING right often. almost always.) and from the fact that i grew up with a mother who has impeccable taste. the kind where she could walk into any store in the world, cross the sales floor, hone in on the one case with the one, simplest piece, pull it out, and win the "most exclusive/limited/endangered species therefore pretty much most expensive" item in the store contest.

balloons didn't rain down or anything, but it was fun to watch.

so, anyway, etc., in matters of taste, i feel relatively comfortable making sweeping declarations, particularly if they are unreasonable or highly unlikely to be followed through upon by any but perhaps 1% of the population.

it's a gift.

here, my list of the things men really need to have a complete life:


a vintage, preferably limited edition,
perhaps dug up on a beach and in pristine condition then up for auction (true story),
rolex.


the new marni sunglasses. acetate. part raf, part eighties.


a marni tote.
(get over it. you all WANT a man-bag. just give in to the "murse".)


richard chai's entire fall men's line.
it's a first for him. it seems as perfect as his women's clothes.
and by seems, i mean "probably is."


the perfect closet. neatly arranged.
here is where they day begins, and ends.

it's like the new version of the la-z-boy.

and then,
let's be honest,
the one thing every little boy dreams of from the time he first sees the "wizard of oz"
(stupid dorothy. she should have seen the way out WAY earlier. we all did.)
and finally, we can afford them.

glitter shoes:



oh come ON.

they're even good for travel.

he sank my battleship!

but then,
he's been doing it for years.

by buying me flowers, you pervs.

by buying me FLOWERS.

sorry about that (part the third) -

this one is for tim.

i'm sorry for the times i take you for granted, overlooking you because you exist so calmly beside me, never demanding attention.

i'm sorry for the times i dont roll over in the bed and kiss you goodnight because i am distracted, i am grumpy, i am half into an ambien haze. you deserve the consistency of the love we have, delivered to you, lip to lip, calm breath to calm breath.

i'm sorry for the rough six months, though they have been filled with notes higher than i think we ever dreamed of achieving, they have also his lows that have rocked us to our foundations. i think, or am beginning to think, that the chinese curse "may you live in interesting times" is particularly relevant to us right now. the times are interesting, and our survival mode is equaled only by our celebration mode.

there must be medication for this.

i'm sorry i leave you with the girls to wrangle so often, that it becomes a hurdle of rather immense responsibility while i am in another city, eating out, shooting film, dressing models, barely sleeping. i wish you were sometimes on hand to hold my hand. i wish i were home to hold them close in sleep.

i wish alot these days.

life has a way of wounding people, airie used to say to me in college as we sat in that cafe on college avenue, drinking tea and watching people. i think it wounds you, alot.

perhaps.

but i want to deflect the wounds from you, tim, i think you are more fragile than i am. or more strong, but getting tired.

i am sorry i took this much to get this focused.

i am here now, my one.

i am making amends,
and making change,
and letting the interesting times
create more stories
than strife.

avec moi -

you KNOW i've been dying to use this title.





now, seems to fit.

(our thanks to tim, the avedon of the household.)

you know how when you get a new toy, you play with it over and over and over and over?
like when tim bought you playstation with final fantasy, and you were like "what the . . . a PLAYstation? what do you think i am, twelve? don't answer that. but really, a VIDEO game? you spent money on . . . what does this button do?"

and then you disappeared down the rabbit hole known as final fantasy for around six weeks, barely slept, looked up cheat codes online, and got REALLY irritable because you weren't sleeping much and you couldn't tell anyone why because you were, you know, PLAYING VIDEO GAMES.

so that's why this new trick on the camera is killing me:






now i bet you all want the following three things:

1) a samsung NV20 camera

2) a blondie for dessert

3) nars "myth" lipstick. i mean, look what it did for me.

the old navy episodes - neon nights part 3

it was day seven of the shoot.

it was night, we shot from dusk til two a.m.

richard placed every piece of neon. we wet the streets. we ran film (and marilia) over and over.




paul, counting down the last few hours:



the grafitti we had to negotiate for,
placed on the back wall of the monastery.
their only comment?
"too much blue"
wha?



kira, taking on the red camera for a few passes:


my girls,
my enablers,
and i don't wanna go to rehab:



hidden in the neon,
messages. "sarah". the year we were founded:



the wind down, at the end, we projected the film from all seven days on the wall,
watched, and remembered the intensity:


although obvious,
this is something i will never forget.