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Yesterday, I was out for a walk with my partner and feeling very grim. Joanne texted me âEnjoy some autumn leaves and sun this weekend.â The leaves were so dry they were on fire. The air was filled with smoke. The sun was not so optimistic. Two men walked past quietly and quickly.
The smoke in the air made the day feel like a photo from the history books and I took a photo to capture the rhyme but when I look at it now, I notice that those two men walked past and one reached to hold the otherâs hand. Iâm recommending, at least for the moment, looking for evidence of love and intimacy instead of proof of our doom-ward direction
Nov 10, 2024
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itâs great when Iâm able to romanticize my daily life when things seem mundane. to be able to be grateful for what I have rather than focusing on what I donât. thatâs not to say that I think you shouldnât question your situation and to be complicit, but sometimes for the time being you donât have a choice. so itâs better to look on the bright side of things. Iâve heard the quote that the grass is greener where you water it and I believe that to be true to an extent. Iâm also reminded of a poem thatâs stuck with me for a while. itâs title is Aimless Love by Billy Collins and it goes like this:
This morning as I walked along the lake shore,
I fell in love with a wren
and later on in the day, a mouse
the cat had dropped under the dining room table.
In the shadows of an autumn evening,
I fell for a seamstress
still at her machine in the tailorâs window,
and later for a bowl of broth,
steam rising like smoke from a naval battle.
This is the best kind of love, I thought,
without recompense, without gifts,
or unkind words, without suspicion,
or silence on the telephone.
The love of the chestnut,
the jazz cap and one hand on the wheel.
No lust, no slam of the doorâ
the love of the miniature orange tree,
the clean white shirt, the hot evening shower,
the highway that cuts across Florida.
No waiting, no huffiness, or rancorâ
just a twinge every now and then
for the wren who had built her nest on a low branch overhanging the water
and for the dead mouse,
still dressed in its light brown suit.
But my heart is always standing on its tripod,
ready for the next arrow.
After I carried the mouse by its tail to a pile of leaves in the woods,
I found myself standing at the bathroom sink gazing down affectionately at the soap,
so patient and soluble,
so at home in its pale green soap dish.
I could feel myself falling again as I felt its turning in my wet hands and caught the scent of the lavender and stone.
May 17, 2025
this heart in the concrete has been on my mind since stumbling across it. i am constantly wondering the story behind it. were they alone and took advantage of the drying cement to cement their love for passing onlookers to see? were they dared to draw something by a friend and their intentions were too pure to trace anything but a heart? but why a heart? the endless possibilities of a blank canvas for the public eye and yet they chose a heart? maybe out of fear that it would be erased if anything else were to be etched in stone? maybe they feared a name of a lover wouldnât last as long as just a heart? but itâs just a heart. no initials. no âOscar wuz here :).â no time stamp or anniversary. just a heart.
I struggle to find a reason of intention and yet this heart just stares back at me. but maybe this is love. reminding me on my walk that love exists. it comes and goes. it will show up unintentionally and unconditionally. there doesnât have to be logic or reason behind it. there doesnât have to be some long, drawn out story explaining how love works and comes to be. it can be just a heart. hardened in the concrete by an unknown artist who knows more about love than I ever could.
Apr 5, 2024
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No image for this one, use your minds eye with me
Yesterday I was walking down myrtle ave underneath the train with my cousin and aunt, we were on our way to a private event at the library (im looking great thank you for asking, wearing this silky floor length dress my aunt had just given to me with my only pair of heels i got for an insane discount on the real real that are definitely not extremely uncomfortable)
We pass this couple embracing each other on the sidewalk, the sunlight has crept underneath the tracks and is illuminating the scene like a golden sheet laid over them. Nothing distracts the pair as they lock lips. I doubt they even register my gawking and if they did it certainly didn't matter to them. And almost as if the scene had been written, cast, and set-decorated: on the woman's shoulder hung a violently red bag that read "lovestruck."
When we arrived at the subway station steps about two blocks later I looked back and saw them far in the distant still in each others hands. My aunt and cousin said that was excessive, but to me I couldn't think of anything more wonderful.
Mar 11, 2025
Top Recs from @florinegrassenhopper
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No screen Sundays. If I want to listen to music its CDs or radio. If I want to watch a movie, no I donât. If I want to see a friend, I will make plans with them on Friday or Saturday to meet up. As a result, I read more, write more, and sit with questions like âdid Citizen Kaneâs 50 year winning streak in the Sight and Sound critics choice survey end in 2012 or 2022? When did Stephen Merritt come out? Whats the etymology of Whitsun?â
This is something that I have practiced off and on for many years but Iâve been doing it every week since December and I love the way that it just allows me one day of true freedom and rest.
Jan 22, 2025
Mar 3, 2025
My calendar this year has 52 of these week at a glance pages but I donât think that way. So, I've been inspired by Ross Gayâs Book of Delighs to start recording the little moments and sensations that bring me joy throughout the day. An analog pi.fyi, if you will.
heres some of what I have so far:
- Waking up to the sound of my upstairs neighborâs footstep. It sounded nostalgic. Felt like company.
- Strawberry jam
- feeling tender for strangers: their lips, nail colors, their small wrists. Thinking of all the lives we hold gently.
- A young girl bought an LP at the bookstore just before I left. She stroked its cover with love
- Green tiles âthe mint shade always makes me think of Jancie
- Charlieâs little bop and punch dancing to some German language punk
- lunch with Katherine, curry Brussels sprouts
- small talk at the photo studio. The photographer's brother was named after their dad, stole his identity, bought jet skis.
Jan 13, 2025