Brooklyn ate me last weekend. Ever since I made up with my boyfriend, I’ve been spending way too much time there.
Don’t get me wrong, Cony Island all day. But I built my life in midtown. I move so much, that it’s important I make use of where I am while I’m there; which just so happens to be upstairs from a 24-hour wonderland.
I’m boycotting Brooklyn for a hot second. It’s just about summer here in New York City, which is the best time of year in one of the best places on Earth. I watched the sunrise this morning before dancing on the river’s edge. I wandered through my local farmer’s market and smiled at all of the vendors I see every Wednesday. I sat in front of the north facing glass wall of my apartment with the sun on my face and words spilling from my fingers. Continue reading
Namaste blog tribe
She won… of course she won…
It feels like yesterday that I was stomping the streets of Berlin with one of my favorite people in the world, the one and only – Ms. Rijn Collins. Whether we’re having French food cocktail nights in the western suburbs of Melbourne or clinking celebratory cocktails at the Waldorf Astoria on Park Avenue, as we did yesterday, there are no words to encompass my love for this woman. Continue reading
Namaste blog tribe
So I dumped the Frenchman. We parted with respect to irreconcilable differences. He’ll always be the lover who brought me gifts every time we were together and made me art when we were apart. I’ll think of him fondly.
Considering the amount of acquaintance-ships I’ve had that end hideously, that’s something special.
In other news, I spent eight weeks recently floating on a boat. I sailed down the eastern seaboard, around a few islands, then back up to the city where I continue to freeze. Part of my love affair with Australia is based on the Queensland weather; but there are so many other parts. One part, who in fact, will be arriving on my doorstep in just a tad over 24hours.
My recent spat of heart breaking and boat riding taught me a few things. Considering that I feel all I can ask from of life is knowledge – this will appease me for awhile. I’m looking very forward to my next excursion to Tahiti, where I will isolate myself in an over water hut and write until my fingers fall off.
In the meantime, I’ll be sorting out my writer’s cave for when one of the people I love more than anything arrives shortly. And it’s for a veeery special event.
“Thanks for not having sex with me.”
There’s nothing quite like a 27 year old lover scorned. We started sleeping together when he was 24. I ended it recently for someone who is 52 and speaks French. Someone who appreciates shoes, smells like tangerines and tastes like vanilla.
Certain things are worth the sacrifice.
I’m on the corner of 44th Street and 3rd Avenue at 8 in the morning, when midtown is just as hopping as the meat packing district at 4am. Every creed and color pours up and down avenues, in and out of transport hubs. There’s so many of us, it’s like no one even notices each other.
We kiss on the cheek in the amicable style we’re each trying to adjust to. This is what it means to make friends with someone you used to fuck. I’m 37 years old, I haven’t done this to date. I’m still uncertain that I’m going to start now.
There’s something beautiful to me about standing in the center of Manhattan wearing sweatpants I slept in with messy bed hair. You never know where life will take you.
The cold February prick of winter stings my cheeks as I turn to walk home. I try to be a good host and always escort guests to their destination. That’s part of why I love living in my neighborhood, there’s 24-hour transportation that can literally get you anywhere in the world. That’s how I ended up living in Australia for ten years.
I originally left New York City for love and I came back because of heartbreak. Both times I was saved, for different reasons. There was at least one solid lesson that came of it all, anyways; your heart only breaks once.
I’ve been writing in French lately…
et ses paroles sont devenues
mon pinceau. mon inspiration.
je pensais en français…
pinot noir. creme brule.
baisers à Manhattan en –
rêvant de l’Australie.
et mon monde
que tout a commencé
quand j’ai regardé dans les yeux.
and his words became
my paintbrush. my inspiration.
i was thinking in french…
pinot noir. creme brule.
kissing in manhattan –
dreaming of australia.
and my world
that all started
when i looked in his eyes.