the sidewalk dance

I'm five years old. But sometimes I feel as if that is one of my more redeeming qualities. It never gets in the way of things like class or work, but rather, is more of a personal affect.

It hurts when people call your bluff. It hurts when intuitive people can see right through you.

It hurts even more when you feel as though things are out of your control.

I've been doing sidewalk dances with strangers a lot lately. In New York, it happens to you if you're alert enough, maybe once a month. But lately? Once a day? Four times a week sometimes? The other day it happened in front of my mother when she came to visit me. It's hard to tell whether this is coming from me or from the fact that everyone is in that frame of mind where they are just stuck in their heads. However, I'm thinking that because of the fact that it is happening to me so frequently, I am the one to blame.

So that's what I do with people in my own life- metaphorically speaking. Sidewalk dances. Awkward, annoying, uncontrollable sidewalk dances. It sucks.

The frustration these strangers express towards me is terribly disheartening. The frustration and annoyance the people I have met in my own life express towards me is disheartening and disappointing.

To know that you are the source of this problem... well... it feels pretty bad.

I'm finding more and more that to be loved or even deeply cared for by someone outside of my family is something I desire greatly. Letting them in and letting them stay there, however....

the possibility of another week....

Blazing yellow, burnt orange, vibrant brown....

The leaves have changed in New England. On our drive to Boston, I had to internally restrain myself from getting too much in my head... Super... So beautiful, it was.

There was this little park in Newton I saw while driving in the car, and it was sunny and clear, and there were benches and a square of grass, the leaves had changed on the trees and they lay on the ground... I wanted so bad to get out of the car and just sit on a bench and read or write.... make leaf piles and just jump in them.

When I was little I didn't even jump. I just burrowed myself into the pile head first.

My peeps, I am giving autumn one more week to come to New York in its fullest capacity. Enough of this in between bullshit.

just a lot of randomness

Four days ago, a man yelled, "Viva Brazil" to me out of his car window.

Three days ago, I noticed that even the brook in the Subway tracks of the FV at Canal Street has a current.

Two days ago, a bird flew off a building and right in front me as I was walking - so close that his little wings graced my nose.

One day ago, I got a phone call while riding the 2 from Chambers to 14th Street. A little girl around three or four stared at me and just said, "Whoa."

goodbye fall

Words can not even begin to describe the pain- the actual hurt- I am experiencing due to the fact that we have skipped the autumn season this year. The leaves aren't changing. It's really not that cold. In fact, for a while, it was still summer. I can still drink iced coffee and not care that it will be too chilly.

I find myself daily, as I walk places, looking on the sidewalk for any changed leaves. And by changed, I mean fully red, vibrant orange, and of course, yellow ones. I have found a few-- but only a few. Some seem as if they are at the midpoint of changing from green to a color, which only depresses me because clearly in the nature of science, these leaves were literally fighting for their life before death won and they fell from the tree. At least give the leaves justice and have them die colorfully. Home on Long Island, I noticed even more while driving that what was two years ago a vision of color, was instead this awkward dark green color.

This entry is so sappy and not at all super, but I feel it and that's all that matters. I honestly can't help it if I miss jumping into huge piles of leaves underneath the oak trees on my front lawn. Or walking through New York carrying a nice cup of hot tea in my coat and scarf and having my nose and cheeks feel cold. Visions and feelings of autumn bring back to me only the best of memories. Without the visions, the smells, everything- I might start to forget.


above picture - fall 2006

It worries me what we are doing to our world, and it depresses me even more when I reflect on my past, how I and those I know have contributed to this. I feel I am still so ignorant to so much. I need to educate myself. I have so much more to learn.

To...

To have something you've passionately wanted within your reach countless times (a literal arms distance away) and then, to pretty much willfully let it go, is one of the hardest things anyone can deal with. To begin to realize the possibility that it is something you have lost your passion for over the years (and that the reason you let it go is because you don't want it anymore) is even harder. To know the reason for this is the criticism of others that easily allowed this passion to be whisked away from you is just personally painful. To not see any goals ahead for you....

you see it and for a moment you want it

Walking home down West Broadway last night, I did my usual survey of the life going on above my head. Across the street, above old warehouses and stores, in "well lit rooms," rows and rows of bookshelves, solitary pieces of art, and small gardens beckoned me. High ceilings, impressive spaces made me want that life myself. To hear the sounds of what appeared to me to be a lonely pianist only made me want it all even more. I remember thinking how comfortable it must be to live like that.

You see it and for a moment you want it.

Crossing over Canal and nearly getting run over by a crazy reckless driver, tripping my way in my K Jacques across Tribeca Park, I am back in the real world. I recall in my mind that the spaces I saw were big, but empty. The pianist was playing Beethoven, and before he moved onto his next piece, he was just ending Sonata 14 in C Sharp Minor.

After a long day spent at the market with good company, then working, and then throughout it all, contemplating and absorbing the changes that are about to take place in my life, I made my way back to the fourth floor of my own apartment. Home to three calm, happy roommates and to rooms that screamed warmth. A home, yes.

You see it and for a moment you want it. Who doesn't?

I am so lucky.

and she's on a blog.... yet again....

So I couldn't resist putting this up on my own blog, mainly because of the fact that I love this girl so much. If it is one thing I (as well as many others who have been graced by her presence) know, it is that Amy N Sall (who I am blessed to have as one of my sales associates) is a fashion celebrity waiting to happen. And at only 17, this could happen at any moment. Overnight, even. But let's get started with the first celebrity moment: being featured on Teen Vogue's Snapshot of the Week, and then, the American Apparel Daily Update Blog.

Though she is praised for her thoughts and views on personal style ("I wouldn't want any trends to make a comeback. Fashion should progress, not regress."), those who actually know her have grown to see that she is so much more than what she wears. In fact, she's even humble about it all! It is her personality, her sincere love and care of others, and always coming to work with a smile that makes us all at American Apparel love Amy. Her creativity is just an added perk.

I was told that if I ever needed a part time job, there would always be one available to me.

All signs are telling me to move forward with my life.

A day at AA, then to a rehearsal- to only, on the way, passing the Astor Place Starbucks at the beginning of Lafayette, see that Sex and the City is shooting inside. I think not of Sarah Jessica Parker and her lookalike son sitting at a booth waving to the people and paparazzi (Is she royalty now?). I think not of the Oscar winning Jennifer Hudson pacing back and forth. Instead, I think of the real people I know inside- people I spent a few months filming with and got to know a great deal. I think of how long it has been.

Yours truly proceeded to talk (politely) with several P.A.'s, and when failed, proceeded to successfully sneak onto the Sex and the City set. I saw b.a.f. and j.t. and the works. It was wonderful. It was for about 10 minutes- but just being on a set for that length of time changed the sound of my voice, the thought patterns in my mind...

Standing four feet away from sjp watch admirably at her son operate the camera and track was just an added bonus.

I need to get a part time job on set again.

And then, to go to my own rehearsal... And then to be told by an old friend over dinner at Angelica's Kitchen that I just need to push myself into doing it... That the confidence in myself can only be found through actually giving it all a try....

And after being told to start my own jewelry company inspired by my own unstamped vintage pieces...

I just need to leap. How hard it is, to break free from the familiar.

Top Five Manhattan Movies for Fall

It's nearing October, and it's still, on average, 80 degrees and sunny here. I am so ready for the cool weather.

I love watching these movies in the fall... A backdrop of New York City just screams autumn.

1. Manhattan
2. Rosemary's Baby
3. You've Got Mail
4. One Fine Day
5. Annie Hall

losing things

Last night I had a dream that a tiny ant was my friend. I kept it in a plastic baggie and traveled around with it everywhere. When I put it down on a table, left it, and came back to it, I noticed that other ants were trying to attack it. To prevent him from being eaten by other ants, I recall frantically dumping the baggie out onto a brick patio (which I understand now to be my house on Long Island). Frightened by my presence, it was hard to keep track which ant was my ant, as they scurried away between the cracks of the bricks. My ant friend never came back.


According to several dream dictionaries, dreaming of ants can mean one of two things: 1) A dissatisfaction with life in general 2)A satisfaction with life, particularly in terms of business. While both of these things do make sense in my own life (and at the same time no less), I do have to keep in mind that there was only one ant in my dream last night, and the situation and feelings surrounding the event of my dream seemed oddly familiar.

I hate losing things. I absolutely despise it. Even if I can replace the item in a second. Losing anything leaves me with this crazy feeling of personal loss.

I lost one of my favorite vintage bracelets the other day. All day, it was on my wrist. I had thought I fixed it earlier that morning. At the Coterie- moving things around, selling other pieces of jewelry- it still remained on my wrist. In the supermarket- on my wrist. However, somewhere between the point where I swiped my subway card and got onto the 2, it fell off.

While I believe feeling so disappointed and upset may seem a little childish, I can't help but realize just how fearful I am about losing not just objects, but people as well. Not to mention- if you don't keep communicating with others in this city, you really have the chance to lose it all.

no shame

Yesterday at Whole Foods I spotted an old man with a red plaid shirt and little spectacles picking the grapes from the bags on the display table and placing them right into his mouth.

picking up

It amazes me how quickly time flies.

It amazes me how blind each of choose to be, in some way, to it's progression. We choose to not see the details which make us realize that we are not on steady ground, or stuck in a moment. It appears that this only serves to make ourselves and the way we conceptualize this world feel and appear whole and more complete- in essence, everlasting. Our parents will not grow old, nor will we. Our childhood homes will always be there- be ours- and we will never move to other cities, states, or countries (at least not permanately). Our bodies will not mature, nor grow older, thin with wrinkly skin.

I recognize that I am particularly at fault when it comes to this concept. And, there is no better place to hide from this fact than in this city, this island we call Manhattan. Though it is densely populated, and constantly progressing in a rapid acceleration, I somehow get lost in this movement- rather, lose myself in this movement. The city provides an anonymity that hardly any other city provides.

Every so often, I find myself jolted back into reality. Moving my sister to college was not a shocking thing, nor was it a sad thing- not until I was on a plane and landed in Manhattan. My parents were back in Boston with her, still moving in and getting her settled, and I realized: I am an adult. I am an adult, riding a taxi, directly back to work. I live in an apartment, I see my family once every month or two, and go about my business on my own. I very easily forget this.

To see my once little sister move on with her life made me seriously question where it is I am exactly going with my own. And in not just a nostalgic way, but in a gutteral, slow and painful way. Somehow along the line, I lost track of time.... and at work, I all of a sudden started to breathe into my core again. I felt the oxygen. I lost track of time.... and my body gave in, and my knees were weak, and I was breathing.

I constantly am questioning whether this place is good for me or not. I am in need of a change- a true change- to relax and feel more complete.

Life does go on, and I did make decisions which will help me get back on the path I should be on-- a workshop with Dena Levy next weekend, a job offer and promotion, and working the Coterie Tradeshow with C.C. Skye. I've been working my job 8 days in a row and will continue day after day until Monday September 24th; let's hope I do not have a burn out.