a post that feels a bit like housework (but also another song--and this one's even better).

in

there is a baby actually screaming across the courtyard (to the point that i want to go over and help, or ask them to close their window). and i can hear the tea kettle whistling in someone's apartment. i love the yellow glow of lights early in the morning when the sky is still gray. the clatter of spoons against mugs and bowls. the preparation, readying for the day. oh, the morning.

i'm preparing for a long day of dentist, followed by pursuit of a job with some steady income, followed by babysitting.

so instead of writing a post, i leave you with this:

(i don't mean to be on a music kick, but this is one of the most beautiful songs i've heard in a long, long time {so for the love of pete (of pete's sake fame) listen to it}).



i do promise to post later today (something more than a music video). so check back. i'll update you on my weekend and i'm trying to write down some thoughts on what it means to be back in new york after my time away in utah.


enjoy this wednesday!


(ps: the baby has stopped screaming. phew.)



a chalkboard headboard. (say that three times fast).

in

i was in the process of moving into my current apartment when i made the decision to take the three-month hiatus to utah.

it was important to me to lay out the bare bones of my bedroom, but i didn't want to put any time into really stamping the room as "my own" for fear that it would make leaving even harder.

if there was one thing my time in utah taught me, it is that i place a high premium on personal space. in my last weeks there i began dreaming of my apartment, my room, my little corner in the sky. so i scoured design-sponge for ideas.

i wanted to create a headboard of sorts because to me a good headboard signals adulthood. and since i'll be twenty-five in exactly one week, adulthood seems of the utmost import.

i wanted something cheap and easy. i thought of laying fabric over wood. or using coffee-filter pom-poms against the wall as a kind of cloth backdrop. or cutting out wallpaper in the shape of something glorious (anthro has some great prints).

instead i went with the old stand-by: chalkboard paint. it goes well with the dark-wood furniture of my bedroom and it was unbelievably easy and totally imperfect. i think it was the imperfection i found most attractive.

so here you have it...


makin' the bed

chalkboard headboard


all done up

the next step in the development of my "adult" bedroom will be finding proper pillows, the arrival of my reading chair, and figuring out a place for some coffee filter pom-poms (because i love them so). so slow and steady. slow and steady.

in the end my room may not look terribly grown up, but i have a hankering that it will reflect my personal aesthetic. and in the end that's all we can really hope for, right?

acclimation.

in

you forget. you go away for a little while and amnesia (or something like it) creeps in.


and then you get back.

and there's that hill leading up to the subway. and the steps--steps, everywhere! and you walk from here to there and from there to here and on and on (all with a heavy bag {bags}). and the heavy doors--the pulling and the pushing.

and suddenly you remember.

and suddenly the body feels the strain.

and a type of exhaustion takes hold, unique to this city.

but the exhaustion will pass.

and i will be back in fighting form in no time.

i had forgotten how the whole of the city conspires to whip one into shape.

but my blistered feet and strained calves, well they certainly remember now.