Watched The Dark Knight Rises last night. The whole city has been buzzing about Batman and I have been look forward to the experience. Marion Cotillard, whom I LOVE as an actress bummed me out. She does not hold anger inside her....she cannot tap into it and comes off flat and glassy. I have never seen her be so devoid of emotion. Especially next to Tom Hardy who plays Bane and is extraordinary in his villainous pain. There is a limit to this girl....and it showed itself in this film. Too bad.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Aug. 25, 2012
6am today....again Chopin has to pee like a racehorse. I really curse him during these times. "Hold it!" I whimper into his direction. Last night didn't get to bed til after 2am so I am really exhausted. I have a houseguest here so I can't let him go into the main loft area as she is sleeping on the daybed and he is going to jump all over her in his excitement. I like having people in my home....it's nice to have life around me. However, many times it is hard to have someone else's energy here if it doesn't go well with mine....most people I can only take in small doses.
Friday, August 24, 2012
Aug. 24th, 2012
I awoke today at 6am.
Well, more accurately my little black bear of a Pomeranian woke me up as he had to pee urgently and after some minutes of whimpering discreetly, he now had to make a stand that my lazy bum needed to march him up on the roof deck and let him pee on the doggie run like every other normal human would. "I'm up! I'm up! Jeez." He gives me the stick eye.
The roof is quiet when it is this early and I know I don't have to talk to any neighbors who are up there for the same reason. I silently cheer this discovery. My social skills at this hour are not fine tuned enough to make small talk as our canines smell each other. I'm pretty sure my building tenants have written me off as a snobby minx. I never take more then five minutes to have a conversation ...afterwhich an alarm goes off inside me that I am being too friendly and before I know it they will be knocking on my door asking me if they can come in to hang out for a bit (this has been known to happen in my previous dwellings) so I steer clear of any kind of meaningful connection to avoid these messy complication. However, I regret this fact about myself almost every time I awkwardly take my leave. Why can't I just be communal and hospitable? My hermetic social unrefinement still follows me to this day...it is like I am a kid, filled with anxiety all over again.
Now back in the safety of my loft I stretch almost as I enter through the front door.....yessss. Home.
I'd make breakfast if there was someone here to cook for. My daily yogurt and a mate tea is the only thing I can stomach when I start my day.....but how I love to sit at the breakfast counter and think about the day ahead...or the night before. Chat about what I dreamt about, which is always something strange or revealing, and then rise with a sense of purpose to begin the morning.
It is the last week of Aug. and practically the whole of the civilized world is off someplace. VACAtion time. Labor Day, end of summer, school about to begin. I am perfectly happy not to be going anywhere this coming week. Let the city empty out and traffic subside.
I remember living in New York, this week Manhattan was fantastic. You could literally feel the throngs of people evaporate and the streets become airy, private somehow. I should remind myself of that more often.
Well, more accurately my little black bear of a Pomeranian woke me up as he had to pee urgently and after some minutes of whimpering discreetly, he now had to make a stand that my lazy bum needed to march him up on the roof deck and let him pee on the doggie run like every other normal human would. "I'm up! I'm up! Jeez." He gives me the stick eye.
The roof is quiet when it is this early and I know I don't have to talk to any neighbors who are up there for the same reason. I silently cheer this discovery. My social skills at this hour are not fine tuned enough to make small talk as our canines smell each other. I'm pretty sure my building tenants have written me off as a snobby minx. I never take more then five minutes to have a conversation ...afterwhich an alarm goes off inside me that I am being too friendly and before I know it they will be knocking on my door asking me if they can come in to hang out for a bit (this has been known to happen in my previous dwellings) so I steer clear of any kind of meaningful connection to avoid these messy complication. However, I regret this fact about myself almost every time I awkwardly take my leave. Why can't I just be communal and hospitable? My hermetic social unrefinement still follows me to this day...it is like I am a kid, filled with anxiety all over again.
Now back in the safety of my loft I stretch almost as I enter through the front door.....yessss. Home.
I'd make breakfast if there was someone here to cook for. My daily yogurt and a mate tea is the only thing I can stomach when I start my day.....but how I love to sit at the breakfast counter and think about the day ahead...or the night before. Chat about what I dreamt about, which is always something strange or revealing, and then rise with a sense of purpose to begin the morning.
It is the last week of Aug. and practically the whole of the civilized world is off someplace. VACAtion time. Labor Day, end of summer, school about to begin. I am perfectly happy not to be going anywhere this coming week. Let the city empty out and traffic subside.
I remember living in New York, this week Manhattan was fantastic. You could literally feel the throngs of people evaporate and the streets become airy, private somehow. I should remind myself of that more often.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
The skies over Brooklyn on a cold February morning...
Living-room reading spot
There are very few things I that drain me more then shopping...
1920s in my head....that was my era.
If only it were possible...
This is New York at its' finest...
Music festival...
Good morning...
New Years geisha...year of the red dragon.
Grandma...my love even if I don't tell her enough.
My version of the "red phone".
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