Namaste blog tribe A month from today, I leave for Tahiti. I'm going to Tahiti, alone, to hide out for a few days and squat in a water hut. It's quite a grown-up moment, actually. When I started this webpage I didn't know how I was going to write professionally in Manhattan, now I'm jet-setting to Tahiti, alone, to play with the words I've been spooling for the past four years. The number of stories and general written work I have is baffling....
I always have jokes about Brooklyn. How me traveling outside of Manhattan involves me "leaving the island". The fact that my world is a cozy four-block radius pocket of midtown; anywhere that I can't get to on foot is essentially far. Seldom, I cross waters to visit Brooklyn. I have tribal members in the Williamsburg and Green Point areas. But truth be told, I don't visit as much as I should. Now, to everyone's disbelief, I've paired up with a...
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. So, as you can...
Transport Delivery “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...
I’ve never made coffee in platform stilettos before. The French Connection pair I’m wearing are black velvet with pale pink bottoms. I stand close to six feet with them on. My legs are lean and long like the trunk of a young, growing tree. Oh, and speaking of French… There’s a French painter in my bed. Since I live in a studio apartment, in a midtown east luxury building - the bed isn’t too far from the kitchen, where I’m preparing...