my manhattan: not so different.

flowers and oranges

through two trees

looking in


overwashed, but so much kinder

how i now cook dinner

to fill a burrito

sometimes life in this city is just like anywhere else. i clean my home. and i cook my dinner. and never sleep in quite enough. and i work a lot. and there's never enough time. i nest and burrow. and i chop vegetables while sipping white wine and listening to whichever folk singer is sitting heavy in my chest. i try to build a home here. and new york is the variable, not the definition.