the astor turret

in
arthur ross turret

place of peace in nyc

on the fourth floor of the american museum of natural history, behind the dinosaurs (think of it: dinosaurs!) is the astor turret...arguably my favorite place in all the city. 
full of light and laughing children it is a place of such peace and simplicity. a place for quiet thought. an escape overlooking central park.
a place i might one day take my own children (think of it: my own children!). might be some time before that last thing happens...

dear blog-spot-lover-of-mine,

in

remember when it was just you and me? when it was just the two of us? and we were each other's own best-kept secret? and so anything was possible? and anything could be said? and that was the point you know. to say everything. to record everything. because i had this sense that, hard as things were, i needed to record it all. to remember. because memory is important. history is important. a record, vital.

it's not so easy anymore is it blog-spot lover? because it's not just you and me. and i have to worry about what i say and if i'll hurt someone, offend someone, embarass myself. but i want to remember. even if it is skewed, this memory (and i know it is skewed). even if five years from now i'll look back and think of it all differently. because i want to see the space between the memories--the histories--the stories i tell. i want the inconsistency.

i want to write about being an island and the loneliness it entails and how it's not fair to become so necessary to someone only when the person that's really necessary leaves. or the five years of static sandwiched between two once-friends on a subway.

friday.

in ,

i'm a little bit granola. and i like my music a little folk-y. so on this lovely friday morning i leave you with these two little nuggets of my week. the first a video by a seattle band, the head and the heart (which of course i became aware of by one of your blogs that now for the life of me i can't seem to get back to) and the second, a gorgeous piece of writing that simultaneously filled me with such wonder, sadness, and love.

this weekend i plan to finally get some christmas shopping done. run the errands that have been on my list for far too long to count. and have a little fun: pictures forthcoming!




There is nothing scarier than the first time you see the weakness in your rock, the frailty of your human pillar. The mortal state looks lighter and too thin. The choices become yours and you desperately and fleetingly beg your mind to recall the instruction manual you need to believe you've been subconsciously writing all your life. There had been contridiction between instruction and action- but not much. It always felt clear what she meant. You wonder passively if when she moves on, her voice- no, her standards- will still live on the ground floor of your heart. Holding all you've done up in a billowing skyscraper of "stuff".

via  here.