I bought this lamp on 1st Dibs. After reviewing the pictures, I decided I had to have it. It was delicate and spoke to a part of me that always longed for sophistication, if only on my nightstand. I imagined the tiny fairy lamp next to the yellow tray where I put my earrings before…
As a child, I imagined my body as a construction site. I am not sure where this originated, but I believed tiny workers in hardhats were throughout my body and in charge of my significant systems. If I had a stomach ache, I would say, “The guys in my tummy are working hard today.” Weird?…
I have this gorgeous journal. The pages are soft and a lovely shade of ivory. The cover is patched together textiles and embroidered seams. There is a pocket in the front to tuck treasures and inspiration. If I could dream up a journal, this one would be the one. I have a beautiful fountain tip…
I am 1985 Allison Reynolds lost on the set of Mean Girls. Let’s preface this rant with the truth that I love my apartment. It houses my favorite office and is located in a gorgeous spot. I have no complaints. But if, as my kids like to say, someone grabbed me by the throat and…
If I were a painter, I would wear a twist of string tied to my ankle long ago by a lover who never promised and left before I ever asked. I would live and work in an echoing flat with iron floor-to-ceiling windows and colorful but cracked tile in the tiny toilet. The window near…
The maintenance guy thinks I’m a serial killer. We’ve had some issues with our smoke detectors going off at random intervals, and the joys of apartment life allow for a quick email to the maintenance department. A lovely man arrived yesterday. He changed some batteries. I stood with him under the alarm near my office…
This boat sits in the marina by my home. I walk by three times a day with Jack. At night, the warm light within makes it special. A man sits at the small table inside and works on a large wooden boat model. Jack and I slow to glance over every evening. The man sits…
Yesterday, I fell on my face. For real. This isn’t some lavish metaphor. I walked Jack, helping him navigate his usual sense that the other dogs were out to kill me or destroy the world, when a rogue Boxer came out of nowhere behind us. The rest of the memory speeds up from here. Jack…
Balconies are interesting spaces. A front yard or a porch are also revealing, but balconies are small pops of individuality amid a sea of windowed vertical boxes. I can’t say I ever noticed what my neighbors were doing when I lived among the streets, but now that I’m in an apartment, I can’t seem to…
