tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91361510543182820952024-03-05T21:11:12.570+01:00a clock without handsm.m.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04512465244667318888noreply@blogger.comBlogger196125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136151054318282095.post-33597842812790377422014-07-01T19:32:00.001+02:002014-07-01T19:32:46.345+02:00june swoon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2905/14340030796_0f01cdf10b_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2905/14340030796_0f01cdf10b_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I had a tired intuition this morning. I walked to work, wistful– thinking of nameless people I know. People who have drifted away, for one reason or another. People I think of often enough, without daring to break the silence. People that may no longer exist as I knew them, or at all. I stood in line for a coffee, hair softened by sun, feeling prim in my new feedsack dress as I handed over my small fortune. I rounded the corner and watched a man drink a small energy capsule, his daily task. Old women walked with renewed vigor on new legs, the day was that early. The brief world that is New York in the morning. The blue light, the clean feeling, the full bloom of summer. Does it dismantle when I learn of the shooting which took place this morning, blocks away from my office at a diner on 14th street?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2895/14176657877_2221dca0c6_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2895/14176657877_2221dca0c6_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LaE95IfMLFA" target="_blank"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">song</span></a> for you.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5032/14176658357_bdc245988a_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5032/14176658357_bdc245988a_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />m.m.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04512465244667318888noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136151054318282095.post-32427541893118892302014-06-17T20:07:00.001+02:002014-06-17T20:08:43.978+02:00the sunday we met lucía<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2919/14151529677_df64d91992_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2919/14151529677_df64d91992_b.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">there was a recent sunday, i wore a favorite dress: rosebuds, jadeite buttons, 1930s white cotton. we walked through prospect park– a bottle of rosé swinging at my wrist, a recycled greek yogurt container full of watermelon speckled with my kitchen windowsill mint, strawberries. eventually we found s. & s., baby lucia. a red and white picnic tablecloth, yellow knit baby slippers, the sun seeping through lucia's sunhat as she napped. after we parted, t. and i found a spot in the summer grove. long strings held kites, children joined frisbee games, we mused how we should have brought the baseball and mitts my parents gave us last christmas. the sky was the color of my father's eyes in summer, pale blue with a grey cloud pierced with light.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://farm4.staticflickr.com/3919/14151355229_300f02101d_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://farm4.staticflickr.com/3919/14151355229_300f02101d_b.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2904/14336358062_7b98cce090_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2904/14336358062_7b98cce090_b.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
m.m.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04512465244667318888noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136151054318282095.post-23822978030537801542014-06-03T19:15:00.002+02:002014-06-03T19:15:53.493+02:00chove chuva<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2928/14151507949_e78981c9e6_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2928/14151507949_e78981c9e6_b.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
In a melancholy mood, I am always in need of song. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NuyY5uA4bU0" target="_blank"><span style="color: #cc0000;">This song</span></a>, it is a little whisper in my ear. A wave, punctuated with love. It is not yet summer, but already, I am listening to <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n7HEB2bqn5M" target="_blank"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Nara Leao</span></a>. First sighting of strawberries at the Union Square Greenmarket. First ferry ride of the year. First night of damp skin on sheets. I couldn't tell you why I am taking photographs again or why I am spending my lunch breaks searching for words. The answer isn't what I am here for. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Iqo5Lwbxwp8" target="_blank"><span style="color: #cc0000;">A song</span></a>, one of my all-time favorite songs.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://farm4.staticflickr.com/3840/14151562360_1ca576df72_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://farm4.staticflickr.com/3840/14151562360_1ca576df72_b.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://farm4.staticflickr.com/3858/14151562260_095efbe0d6_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://farm4.staticflickr.com/3858/14151562260_095efbe0d6_b.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://farm4.staticflickr.com/3909/14337416464_a1444dc20d_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://farm4.staticflickr.com/3909/14337416464_a1444dc20d_b.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />m.m.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04512465244667318888noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136151054318282095.post-45188437782129964572014-05-29T20:31:00.001+02:002014-05-29T20:31:52.655+02:00be quiet, big boys don't crypt i.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://farm4.staticflickr.com/3798/14113206687_432946d272_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://farm4.staticflickr.com/3798/14113206687_432946d272_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
May 29th. Three years ago, a Sunday that will remain forever dear to me. I trembled all evening, danced, bewitched "like Kim Novak in <i>Picnic</i>," you said, drank two pink wines, dressed myself in blue. I hardly remember anything, I was jarred and cracked open and terrifyingly new. There are no photographs. We walked to the water and sat there until it was a new day. Bagels, warm and salted. A sun shower. A dozen mosquito bites. The bus ride home, I listened to <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tdCY0CgMoq8&feature=kp" target="_blank"><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">this song</span></a> repeatedly, through the silent summer fog. The opposite.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5152/14113109420_b1912caccc_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5152/14113109420_b1912caccc_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5489/14299183364_022bc89989_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5489/14299183364_022bc89989_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />m.m.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04512465244667318888noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136151054318282095.post-27891317994008351202014-05-27T20:08:00.000+02:002014-05-27T20:08:24.914+02:00two juleps<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/13991411583/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7088/13991411583_c28d15b269_b.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Two juleps closer to Bette Davis. These photographs are more or less, from the day I had my first mint julep of the year. It is seasonably warm now and by the end of the day, I am easily aggravated and in need of a cool bath, with a small bowl of ice cream with rose water and rhubarb syrup drizzled generously. I collapse into bed, clean and damp, and fall asleep so swiftly it is as if I am adding dream capsules to my simple syrups.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/13971421145/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7083/13971421145_e14dce5989_b.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Life is unfurling, and it is a large task. I found myself in a small, unreasonable panic last night, rolling crushed ice in my mouth, listening to T. speak, at the thought of returning to winter so soon. For now, there are short sleeves and the thinnest layers. The roses are beginning to show face and this morning, a grandfather and a small boy I have seen before, sat across from me on the train. The small boy grabbed a pink slip of paper from the elder's pocket. FLUSHING, QUEENS in bold black. Six folds and a paper airplane was formed, careening through space and crashing into the small palm of the child. It was enough to get me through the morning.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/13991411603/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7068/13991411603_bc055f383a_b.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
m.m.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04512465244667318888noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136151054318282095.post-63269447113018362942014-05-20T20:23:00.003+02:002014-05-20T20:28:38.720+02:00third butterfly of the year<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/13995507125/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2902/13995507125_5151dee212_b.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Walking down sixth avenue just now, I watched a wisp of golden yellow carry itself on the wind. Third butterfly of the year. I am always beginning this way - counting the first sighting of rhubarb, the first abandoned glove of winter, the first warm day of May. It was the first year in some time, when I could sing "On the First Warm Day" truthfully.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
My father, reasons unbeknownst to me, repeats this line to me every year: <i>"Once I read a story about a butterfly in the subway, and today, I saw one. It got on at 42nd and off at 59th, where, I assume, it was going to Bloomingdales to buy a hat that will turn out to be a mistake, as almost all hats are."</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/13995509885/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7381/13995509885_013432a300_b.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Central Park at the onset of spring. I was still using my broken camera for this roll of film and that night we walked through the dark to Earl's for beer and grilled cheese sandwiches (with pork belly! kimchi! a fried egg!). I should also mention the most beguiling sunset we followed from the West Side, which I will carry with me in reserve for impending bleak moments.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/14015511973/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7342/14015511973_3d014b9fe2_b.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
And finally, a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CW4FEv3RIgY" target="_blank"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">song</span></a> or <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aROkoDzOArs" target="_blank"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">two</span></a>.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
m.m.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04512465244667318888noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136151054318282095.post-55267161208145958202014-05-15T20:14:00.002+02:002014-05-15T20:14:27.892+02:00estrada do sol<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<a href="https://farm4.staticflickr.com/3754/12120649624_be91685d1f_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://farm4.staticflickr.com/3754/12120649624_be91685d1f_c.jpg" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I do not have any time to say any one thing today. I will leave you in much better hands, with the dear <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ls3jiw4Bz4" target="_blank">Sylvia Telles</a>.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://farm4.staticflickr.com/3702/12120253145_390da9b4dd_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://farm4.staticflickr.com/3702/12120253145_390da9b4dd_c.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5509/12120649714_972b9fe533_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5509/12120649714_972b9fe533_c.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://farm4.staticflickr.com/3714/12120915246_48cd47d650_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://farm4.staticflickr.com/3714/12120915246_48cd47d650_c.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
m.m.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04512465244667318888noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136151054318282095.post-50500477073931556112014-05-08T21:09:00.001+02:002014-05-08T21:09:27.515+02:00ramps<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/14061494972/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5555/14061494972_fbd20c77f6_b.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Last night I cooked with ramps for the first time. Ramp carbonara and one more episode of Louie.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
My life is quiet these days. I work. I walk through the Green Market once or twice a week. I take photographs. I fall asleep when I can on the train to work. I pause at the former declarations of myself. I listen to baseball games. I watch baseball games. I seem to find everything precarious, balanced on the edge of a fire escape, just so.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
It has been so long since I have carved a space for myself. A space for my own devices. I feel less sentimental, which surprises me as I am the most sentimental person I know. The cherry blossoms will depart soon, and perhaps I already feel it in the corner of my heart. Walking through the dark paths of the park last night, the movement of birds and laughter fluttered, and I only wished it darker.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/14084705513/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7321/14084705513_740b8b6c8e_b.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/14041551246/in/photostream/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7386/14041551246_580daaa40a_b.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />m.m.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04512465244667318888noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136151054318282095.post-65717204074621539322014-05-02T04:36:00.000+02:002014-05-02T04:40:24.568+02:00may day<center style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/13991389573/in/photostream/" target="_blank"><img src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7164/13991389573_813e2f29b5_b.jpg" /></a><span id="goog_602807808"></span><span id="goog_602807809"></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/"></a></center>
<center style="text-align: justify;">
</center>
<center style="text-align: justify;">
</center>
<center style="text-align: center;">
</center>
<center style="text-align: center;">
<br /></center>
<center style="text-align: center;">
May Day. I left work today and took my normal train to the very last stop. "Walk past the cemetery," you wrote. I walked by an Arby's, a taxidermist, and an autoshop before my path was flanked by two graveyards. I held my camera strap, tracing the sky splitting light through a thicket of clouds. We walked to the highest point of the hill, past a crematory, past a crabapple tree, and past a man driving by listening to "You Sexy Thing" by Hot Chocolate. Did you say, "do you like this song?" If not, I replied, "I believe in miracles."</center>
<center style="text-align: center;">
<br /></center>
<center style="text-align: center;">
</center>
<center style="text-align: justify;">
</center>
<center style="text-align: justify;">
</center>
<center style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/13971399805/in/photostream/" target="_blank"><img src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7407/13971399805_4faebd135c_b.jpg" /></a></center>
<center style="text-align: justify;">
</center>
<center style="text-align: justify;">
</center>
<center style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></center>
<center style="text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: left;">On your birthday, it rained heavily. We took train to train to a different cemetery and we were too late. I won't forget the first sip of the hot toddy I brought with me, the steam in the dark antechamber of the Greenwood archway thin and glowing. I ran to this lady of the grey sky, looked up, and later, walking in the rain in our baseball caps, saw her refracted in you.</span></center>
<center style="text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></center>
<center style="text-align: justify;">
</center>
<center style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/13948302936/in/photostream/" target="_blank"><img src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2925/13948302936_b072efcdab_b.jpg" /></a></center>
<center style="text-align: justify;">
</center>
m.m.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04512465244667318888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136151054318282095.post-55337010482126537262014-02-14T00:31:00.002+01:002014-02-14T00:31:59.449+01:00Hello, February<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://farm4.staticflickr.com/3771/9593906826_2c2453d269_z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://farm4.staticflickr.com/3771/9593906826_2c2453d269_z.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
It feels sinister to send a warm reminder of tomatoes from where I sit, perched in New York, typing on a snow day. Years have passed since I have thought of this corner of the internet, or the internet at all. It has been easy to slip away.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
I have been reading Middlemarch. There were two weeks during which I viewed <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4wsgpF-InEY">Now, Voyager</a> (1942, Irving Rapper) three times. I swallow one pill in the morning and one at night, after many years where I could not swallow a pill at all. My mouth darkens against the thought of poetry. And this morning, the snow was so soft under my boot steps, I wanted to walk forever.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2857/9591115451_a0b8bc38fe_z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2857/9591115451_a0b8bc38fe_z.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://farm4.staticflickr.com/3768/9593913002_d671befd0e_z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://farm4.staticflickr.com/3768/9593913002_d671befd0e_z.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
m.m.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04512465244667318888noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136151054318282095.post-59868553081005506832012-05-31T20:11:00.000+02:002012-05-31T20:11:23.167+02:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://farm2.staticflickr.com/1187/4726315220_c7039f6837_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://farm2.staticflickr.com/1187/4726315220_c7039f6837_b.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Last year's peonies (admittedly twenty-four months, not twelve) may be the swift kick in the rump I need to resume my thorny relationship with my fine weathered 35mm friend.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4067/4707079171_af7c00ac31_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4067/4707079171_af7c00ac31_b.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4100/4901912800_e0eb736f93_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4100/4901912800_e0eb736f93_b.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<center>
</center>m.m.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04512465244667318888noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136151054318282095.post-50016974910237295122012-05-21T19:46:00.001+02:002012-05-21T19:46:37.167+02:00<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<center>
<img src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5199/7091784899_2a4e216792_c.jpg" />
<br /><br />
After the (many) overlapping months, I should have something to say. An unnecessary excuse, a monotonous detail of my life that I try to make interesting, flowery language to beget ornate visions of flowers. I was overtaken by hanami season. There were daily cherry blossom viewings. Sakura daifuku. Oukashigure. Cherry blossom sparkling sake. Sakura gum. Grand plans with T. to make a map of all of the cherry blossom trees in New York City with rudimentary watercolors by yours truly. Somehow, it feels like we've seen them all (charting the progress of various gardens, parks, and tree-lined avenues), yet we haven't seen enough.</center><center><br /></center><center>I wrote the above nearly a month ago, at the tail end of hanami season. Since then, I have locked in my memory evening meetings down Cherry Blossom Lane with tuna sashimi and peppercorn sake, the day spent under the raining <a href="http://www.japan-guide.com/e/e2011_species.html">Kanzan</a> trees, and more recently, several Sunday sakura-sleuthing jaunts. Wherein, T. & I sadly return to the blossom-bare trees and through the dark olive foliage, we rub our eyes in disbelief, and discover a single pink flower glowing in the sun.</center><center></center><center><br /><br />
<img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7239/7091784933_f0daa394bc_c.jpg" />
<br /><br />
<img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7091/7091797265_45776e1a8c_c.jpg" />
<br /><br />
<img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7263/7091784891_7ddc45e073_c.jpg" />
<br /><br />
<img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7123/7091797277_ef58c65a16_c.jpg" />
<br /><br />
<img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7278/7091797271_89ee8c61ba_c.jpg" />
<br /><br />
<img src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5040/7091797255_fc7c1fec83_c.jpg" />
<br /><br />
<img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7092/7091797305_0f4f558942_c.jpg" />
</center>m.m.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04512465244667318888noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136151054318282095.post-13033408083084870442011-07-13T19:40:00.002+02:002011-07-13T19:58:07.429+02:00wednesday<center><br /><br /><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2213/5701006191_96b534169c_b.jpg" /><br /><br />Much has happened since this day, two or so months ago. I've never uttered this utterance, but this Saturday (documented by my sandy sneakers & mini-mosaic proto-type) was quite a "benchmark day." JC & I drove to Dead Horse Bay in his station wagon singing along to Irma Thomas, I started drinking iced coffee for the first time in my life, the succulent I procured that afternoon has symbolically bit the dust, & a few other things I ought to keep mum about.<br /><br />Without meaning to sound like I'm signing your high school yearbook, I hope you have a swell summer!<br /><br /><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3531/5701569648_ffefb8de2b_b.jpg" /><br /><br /><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2327/5701006167_09fc04ac25_b.jpg" /><br /><br /></center>m.m.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04512465244667318888noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136151054318282095.post-54589567357174681032011-06-06T14:20:00.000+02:002011-06-06T20:19:21.901+02:00monday<center><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/5717245059/" title="Untitled by marcinéma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2557/5717245059_2a47cd8c15_z.jpg" alt="" height="640" width="427" /></a><br /><br />There are dark tulips in the garden. I have taken to traipsing around the garden at night, when the porch lights dim & leave me rooting & rifling my hands through sweet peas, the remnants of last summer's seeds. The cats which scattered in late summer are beginning to roll out across the wood benches. I never see them at night, though I sometimes hear their rustlings in the afternoon.<br /><br />These humble pods are beginning to unsnap velvet torenias (wishbone flowers). I'd like to tear, crush and roll the texture of flowers in my palm. Violets worked best in my youth, the surface both large and silk, soft and slick. Though unpictured, my budding moonflowers are my true pride & glory. I've started peering into my own window to chart their progress, the poisonous dears.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/5717245011/" title="Untitled by marcinéma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3241/5717245011_cfbf8b00d8_z.jpg" alt="" height="427" width="640" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/5717245023/" title="Untitled by marcinéma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2440/5717245023_776481b1f1_z.jpg" alt="" height="640" width="427" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/5717245041/" title="Untitled by marcinéma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2179/5717245041_e823745a29_z.jpg" alt="" height="640" width="427" /></a><br /><br /></center>m.m.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04512465244667318888noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136151054318282095.post-8144097717180031152011-05-08T20:40:00.002+02:002011-05-08T20:54:38.576+02:00sunday<center>sunday songs<br />[or] songs for panic attacks<br /><br /><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/MJGKNIjVXww" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" width="480"></iframe><br /><br />Favorite Brel song.<br /><br /><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/RKpflHueZAk" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" width="480"></iframe><br /><br />Favorite song to sing in the shower.<br /><br /><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/jndeJQV0CeY" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" width="480"></iframe><br /><br />Annie Girardot's face is a winner.<br /><br /></center>m.m.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04512465244667318888noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136151054318282095.post-45802089583565480092011-04-24T08:45:00.002+02:002011-04-24T23:06:37.503+02:00sunday<center><br />sunday songs<br />or various shades of love songs<br /><br /><iframe title="YouTube video player" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/rzHpGjvRgTc" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" width="480"></iframe><br /><br />"I Can't Control Myself" is hands down my favorite song of the past three months (and onward).<br /><br /><iframe title="YouTube video player" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/cx0dDegMBI4" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" width="480"></iframe><br /><br />Do yourself a favor and give Kay Kyser & his Orchestra's version of "Who Wouldn't Love You?" a listen.<br />This Lennon Sisters cover is rather topnotch & sweet, but I'm forever partial to the original.<br /><br /><iframe title="YouTube video player" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/klz1MOq3ZeU" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" width="480"></iframe><br /><br />Dream version of a standard.<br />B.Ferry is a rather uncanny amalgam of Tiny Tim & David Byrne, no?<br /><br /><iframe title="YouTube video player" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/i4W9bgh19Ys" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" width="480"></iframe><br /><br />I think this was the reason I subscribed to surf magazines as a twelve year old.<br /><br /></center>m.m.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04512465244667318888noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136151054318282095.post-71412976061414568232011-04-10T22:35:00.002+02:002011-04-10T22:57:31.321+02:00sunday<center><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/5341991174/" title="Untitled by marcinéma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5005/5341991174_874a413148_o.jpg" alt="" height="533" width="800" /></a><br /><br />I've only had one pomegranate in my life. N. & I were tempted something awful at the Getty to pluck off two round bulbs and crack open the redness in the garden. The inclusion of the word "ancient" on the placard did little to deter us. Security, on the other hand!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/5341991170/" title="Untitled by marcinéma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5001/5341991170_3b9162e953_o.jpg" alt="" height="533" width="800" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/5341991180/" title="Untitled by marcinéma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5129/5341991180_79a7f44efc_o.jpg" alt="" height="533" width="800" /></a><br /><br /></center>m.m.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04512465244667318888noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136151054318282095.post-30577260015197556362011-04-06T06:56:00.003+02:002011-04-06T07:35:11.439+02:00wednesday<center><br /><img src="http://www.slantmagazine.com/images/film/yearning.jpg" /><br /><br />Despite a rather "bah humbug"/"oh drats"/"fiddlesticks" moment upon realizing the <a style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);" href="http://www.nyc-arts.org/events/12679/guy-maddin-s-lost-films">Guy Maddin lecture & screening</a><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"> </span>at New School is sold out, I am yearning to view Mikio Naruse's <span style="font-style: italic;">Yearning </span>again. And how! I should preface my admission by admitting to having just returned from viewing <span style="font-style: italic;">Yearning</span> in theaters this evening. Despite sitting a row behind a kindly soul with an abnormally large, stalwart head, Naruse led me through the gamut. If you happened to have heard nervous chuckling, a steady stream of heady sighs, one or two sharp intakes of breath, and the soft sound of someone clutching their heart again and again– guilty as charged. How this film managed to slip by me is beyond my comprehension, but I attribute this to timing. Meaning, perhaps my unconscious (the one that knows which films will induce the good aches; the one that hinges on sad-sack tales of unrequited love) had an inkling, allowed <span style="font-style: italic;">Yearning</span> to pass by undetected, simply knew I would need to watch this film on this day. Love at first-and-following-ninety-eight-minutes sight.<span style="font-style: italic;"></span><br /><br />If you have ever longed for anyone, in any capacity, and I mean anyone (il buono, il brutto, il cattivo), you must see this film.<br /><br /><iframe title="YouTube video player" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/dYs44cfI8Ks" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" width="480"></iframe><br /><br />postscript–<br /><br />If anyone has any leads as to how I might be able to get my hands on the score to <span style="font-style: italic;">Midareru</span> (or the film itself), consider me signed, sealed, delivered, I'm yours. Or at the very least, eternally grateful.<br /></center>m.m.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04512465244667318888noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136151054318282095.post-19741865830173105492011-04-04T19:22:00.003+02:002011-04-04T19:54:23.479+02:00monday<center><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/5558458175/" title="Untitled by marcinéma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5182/5558458175_0e69db4db4_z.jpg" alt="" height="427" width="640" /></a><br /><br />Lately— (I'm quite taken with the em dash these days)<br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LSJzp9oXFgA">This song</a>. <a style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" href="http://adventurescooking.blogspot.com/2011/03/taro-cake-with-cream-cheese-frosting.html">This cake</a>. The<span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"> </span><a style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" href="http://www.doctormacro.com/Images/Grant,%20Cary/Annex/Annex%20-%20Grant,%20Cary%20%28Bachelor%20and%20the%20Bobby-Soxer,%20The%29_03.jpg">bobby soxer</a>. The <a style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" href="http://screenslate.wordpress.com/">sort of thing I've been waiting for</a>.<br />& oh yes, researching where to tea off (the St. Regis? Lady Mendl's? The Plaza?) for my birthday.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/5589611782/" title="Untitled by marcinéma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5307/5589611782_8594da626a_z.jpg" alt="" height="427" width="640" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/5589611730/" title="Untitled by marcinéma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5252/5589611730_6096cdec4c_z.jpg" alt="" height="640" width="427" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/5548553756/" title="Untitled by marcinéma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5306/5548553756_9069d2a98a_z.jpg" alt="" height="640" width="427" /></a><br /></center>m.m.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04512465244667318888noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136151054318282095.post-86870425199670684052011-03-25T08:03:00.003+01:002011-03-25T08:39:32.516+01:00friday<center><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/5548553740/" title="Untitled by marcinéma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5309/5548553740_8511d158eb_z.jpg" alt="" height="640" width="427" /></a><br /><br />Somehow I've managed to: find <a style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" href="http://www.davidlebovitz.com/2010/05/speculoos-a-tartiner-gingersnap-paste/">speculoos</a>, bake two quiches, eat a pound of beets (!), watch <a style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Zqcb0zLgvM">seven</a><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"> </span><a style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ej5tzvrNvBY">films</a> in theaters, avoid the slumps, and read two books- all before the span of a week. Based on "productivity" alone, I'd say things are on the up and up. Sure, glancing at a map of Paris continues to grip my heart, I can't find figs anywhere, and I am not yet zipping around town in a hunter green e-type roadster. I'll settle for upstate New York, grapes/olives/challah, and the bus.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/5551702075/" title="Untitled by marcinéma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5298/5551702075_127ece4c6e_z.jpg" alt="" height="640" width="427" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/5551702043/" title="Untitled by marcinéma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5061/5551702043_b523603109_z.jpg" alt="" height="427" width="640" /></a><br /><br />quiche #1: <a style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" href="http://smittenkitchen.com/2010/02/cauliflower-and-caramelized-onion-tart/">grilled onion cauliflower</a> (the generous pat of dijon mustard as the first layer is not to be taken lightly), using Julia Child's perfect <a style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" href="http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/Pate-Brisee-Tart-Crust-354316">pâte brisée recipe</a> (this seems to deviate slightly from the version in the book?; the pastry dough page in my copy is coated lightly in a caked layer of flour)<br /><br />quiche #2: (not pictured), used the superb dijon/grilled onions combination, gathered what I could from the icebox, sauteed spinach with an ample amount of shallots (must also recommend Julia's recipe, which I have memorized fondly), mixed with gruyère and parmesan following the wet ingredients from the aforementioned recipe; the result: impossibly good<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/5551702089/" title="Untitled by marcinéma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5223/5551702089_999b289397_z.jpg" alt="" height="640" width="427" /></a><br /><br /></center>m.m.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04512465244667318888noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136151054318282095.post-89670662374018482012011-03-22T01:14:00.003+01:002011-03-22T01:42:29.269+01:00monday<center><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/4991996592/" title="Untitled by marcinéma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4106/4991996592_efb8f74091_o.jpg" alt="" height="800" width="537" /></a><br /><br />Absurdly late, here are a few photographs I took from the second jazz age lawn party on Governor's Island in late summer. Here's to hoping warmer weather ensues! Until then, I'll be layering my linen, dousing my lemonade with generous dollops of St. Germain.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/4991996596/" title="Untitled by marcinéma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4127/4991996596_bb7b2fe75c_o.jpg" width="537" height="800" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/4984491367/" title="Untitled by marcinéma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4112/4984491367_0c23a2952a_o.jpg" width="800" height="537" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/4991996586/" title="Untitled by marcinéma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4124/4991996586_6420e4cffc_o.jpg" width="800" height="537" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/4984502651/" title="Untitled by marcinéma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4091/4984502651_2712c895c1_o.jpg" width="800" height="537" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/4991996580/" title="Untitled by marcinéma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4130/4991996580_8ea92d044b_o.jpg" width="800" height="537" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/4984502655/" title="Untitled by marcinéma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4084/4984502655_478457c1ea_o.jpg" width="800" height="537" alt="" /></a><br /><br /></center>m.m.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04512465244667318888noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136151054318282095.post-39413841499983116062011-03-06T00:51:00.003+01:002011-03-06T01:50:49.913+01:00saturday<center><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/5500373817/" title="Untitled by marcinéma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5176/5500373817_be39ac692a_z.jpg" alt="" height="640" width="427" /></a><br /><br />A tried and true recipe today. Lemonade is my jam; I've been making lemonade from scratch since I was a kid trying to make a quick buck during summer holidays. This recipe is loose, easy to adapt, hard to ruin. Paired with a ginger iced tea, it makes a delightful arnold palmer; coupled with a lavender syrup or a light dose of rosewater, and you'll have the perfect ladylike beverage for breezy afternoons spent on porches and stoops.<br /><br />I like my lemonade simple and straight to the point. Subtly sweet and sour, with a big basil bang.<br /><br />BASIL LEMONADE<br /><br />INGREDIENTS<br />1/4 cup sugar<br />4 lemons<br />sprigs of basil<br />3/4 quart of water<br />a pitcher, glasses<br /><br />1. Roll lemons on cutting board to ensure extra succulence<br />2. Measure out 1/4 cup sugar, pour in bowl<br />3. Cut lemons, squeeze juice into bowl containing sugar<br />4. Mix sugar and lemon juice into a simple syrup<br />5. Pour aforementioned simple syrup into your container of choice<br />6. Fill the remainder with cold water<br />7. Cap bottle & shake! If you're using an open container, stir!<br />8. Taste and see if more lemon juice or sugar is desired<br />9. Grab a glass, add a few large leaves of basil, some ice, and of course, lemonade!<br /><br /><a href="http://thesnailandthecyclops.blogspot.com/2010/08/recipes-mint-lemonade.html">Francesca's recipe</a> for mint lemonade looks mighty fine as well! Highly recommended!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/5500373867/" title="basil lemonade by marcinéma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5174/5500373867_01676e5c41_z.jpg" alt="basil lemonade" height="427" width="640" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/5500373861/" title="Untitled by marcinéma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5176/5500373861_03c2415f10_z.jpg" alt="" height="427" width="640" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/5500980564/" title="IMG_5080 by marcinéma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5253/5500980564_881b33fc7c_z.jpg" alt="IMG_5080" height="427" width="640" /></a><br /></center>m.m.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04512465244667318888noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136151054318282095.post-86478508992412050182011-03-04T17:57:00.002+01:002011-03-04T18:32:24.075+01:00friday<center><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/5389623770/" title="Untitled by marcinéma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5176/5389623770_4e5b95ee97_o.jpg" alt="" height="533" width="800" /></a><br /><br />Funny how things turn out. Reactions, non-reactions, et al. Puzzling how we use such language to write off situations which are not humorous at all. Save for, perhaps, the odd coupling of sophomoric stupidity and muddled perseverance.<br /><br />In other news, the garden is cold and the rosemary is nearly dead. Not dead enough to deter me from garlic rosemary biscuits, however. My room is garnished in tulips and enough skeins of yarn to keep me click-clacking for some time to come. And however much I may be dreaming of zipping through the south of France in a hunter green e-type roadster, I am rather content with the stack of girl scout cookies shipped over by dear ol' mom & dad, an endless supply of Seinfeld-in-bed-laughs, and the prospect of many weekend nights spent twisting around to Northern Soul. Perhaps more than Jaguars & holidays abroad spent collecting antique Digoin bowls, I'd like to spend my days jivin' with Don Cornelius on the set of Soul Train. Lord knows I'd be giving Marvin my number on a napkin in a flash!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/5341997018/" title="Untitled by marcinéma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5090/5341997018_1a9f596b45_o.jpg" alt="" height="533" width="800" /></a><br /><br /></center>m.m.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04512465244667318888noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136151054318282095.post-30119544335235719892011-02-23T23:24:00.002+01:002011-02-23T23:59:45.001+01:00wednesday<center><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/5314283732/" title="Untitled by marcinéma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5125/5314283732_c00104b1be_o.jpg" alt="" height="540" width="800" /></a><br /><br />Nose currently stuffed in Bogie's biography. It's a real zinger.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcinethequeen/5314283740/" title="Untitled by marcinéma, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5162/5314283740_cc3188e9fb_o.jpg" alt="" height="540" width="800" /></a><br /><br /></center>m.m.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04512465244667318888noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136151054318282095.post-9964329493608142812011-01-25T22:58:00.002+01:002011-01-25T23:16:41.586+01:00tuesday<center><br /><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5214/5388659230_d9d696db94_b.jpg" /><br /><br />Oddities: not touching a pen (the way I like) for a month, making friends with Alexei the Russian over Francis Lai's 1966 score to <span style="font-style: italic;">A Man and A Woman</span>, finding a hundred dollar bill as I rounded the corner on my way to the bank, a brief encounter with a seventy-seven year old named Lawrence whilst tapping fingers to Dixieland jazz, surreptitiously tossing a penny into the shallow waters in the Temple of Dendur, the vague recognition of strangers, & those two unexpected bowling strikes last Wednesday afternoon. Oh yes, and I have quite apparently developed an odd fascination with the ever beguiling Bruce Springsteen.<br /><br /><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5054/5388047701_5b6981937c_b.jpg" /><br /><br /><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5140/5388047711_81878ab62d_b.jpg" /><br /><br /><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5179/5388659224_fba7a84afd_b.jpg" /><br /><br /><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5260/5388047717_903633445a_b.jpg" /><br /><br /><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5131/5388047721_9f9914e0c5_b.jpg" /><br /><br /></center>m.m.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04512465244667318888noreply@blogger.com32