Coming Soon

I've been working with Andrea Lekberg of The Artist Baker on a new project and I am happy to announce that we are in the final stages of  production for the kitchen towels above that will be available for sale in her store the end of next month. After taking the textile design class at F.I.T. (taught by the amazing Ellen Oster) combined with what I learned when I took Adobe Indesign (taught by the multi-talented Lisa Maxwell) I was able to use my images from Andrea's world and conjure these up. Stay tuned for more details and hope you like!

An Excursion Across the River

When you live in the NYC metro area, while boredom can be inescapable, with a little effort you can usually find something to do at a price you can afford. (In our case, I especially appreciate activities without a huge cost attached,)

So we made our way sans kids, sans dog and headed to Pouhkeepsie to check out the Walkway over the Hudson. This pedestrian feature that spans the Hudson is a retired railroad bridge that has been re purposed as a recreational path that offers brilliant views of the river and a chance to mix and mingle with all kinds of people out for the same purpose, a chance to exercise while taking in the beautiful scenery. Nothing more, nothing less meant a little togetherness and lot of fresh air on a warm afternoon in February.

Me and 10 Gay (Street)

I'm a big fan of Christopher Grey who writes the Streetscapes column in the NYTimes. This weekend, he wrote about his first apartment in Manhattan which sent me down my memory lane. My first place was in the West Village- the address 10 Gay Street Apartment 4B. I had arrived in NYC after completing my coursework for my Masters in Photography from the Visual Studies Workshop and the plan was to live with my then boyfriend Michael. The relationship didn't exactly work out, and I found myself at 28 doing the one thing I dreaded more than anything else, having to find a place to live alone in the big apple. I distinctly recall the terror of trying to find a place to live, tracking down the Village Voice the night before it was readily available to read the listings, arriving at showings only to find 30 people already waiting to see the property in question, usually with a checkbook in hand. I quickly learned that finding a desirable, affordable apartment in Manhattan was going to be one of the toughest things I had yet to do. Luckily, through a friend, I heard about a sublet. A tiny one bedroom that could be mine for 6 months with a rent I could afford alone. I arrived at the anointed hour to meet the lease holder and turning onto Gay Street from Christopher on a foggy evening I encountered the most charming block I had ever seen in the city. All of 10 buildings long, with a slight curve, the street connected Christopher and Waverly Place tucked behind 6th Avenue. It was a peaceful oasis and I knew no matter what condition, I would take the place.
Somehow, when the original tenant decided not to return, the landlord offered me the lease. The year was 1981 and I rented the apartment for 10 years, finally giving up the lease when I moved uptown  to a loft where I could both live and work. A lot happened to me in those 10 years. My business grew, I had more romantic trysts than I care to remember (including my first dates with my first husband), along with many lonely nights, resulting in an education in to how to live on my own. A quick google search shows the apartment in its current glory, all fixed up and gleaming with a rent to reflect the current market.
But my memories are of a tiny flat, of dinners cooked and served to friends and suitors alike, to carrying bags of groceries and photo cases up four flights of stairs, to the solitary woman above who lived with dozens of cats, and the sense of independence I gained from navigating those years as a solo female.
I guess you could call it my Sex in the City phase before Sex in the City and a priceless chapter in more ways than one.

Not my day

I drove in to the city to attend NYC Social Media Week and after parking and checking in, I lasted about 15 minutes surveying the vendors and exhibitors, along with the lengthy waits of people standing in long lines for seminars before I realized I could not stay. It was overwhelming. Manhattan felt dismal and I couldn't process the amount of digital chatter that surrounded me. Within the hour I was back in my car driving home and thinking about what I wanted to do instead.

I feel a little ill

Nothing like squandering most of a perfectly beautiful day by binge watching the rest of House of Cards- Season 2. I felt like a train losing its brakes and heading downhill and when one episode would end, and the counter would begin, meaning there was only like a 15 second interval before the next episode began- that was it. I couldn't make myself stop. Now every where I look I see cloaks and daggers. I wonder why?