Tuesday, September 01, 2015

     Yesterday I bought some clothes. Yes this is a big deal for me. For the last 8.5 years I did not need to wear anything but a company branded tee shirt with jeans and sneakers.
     This made it very easy for me to avoid buying clothes. I could skate by on the minimum. And for the most part I did. There was very little that apppealed to me as a sophisticated, artistic older, no longer skinny woman. Clothes for women my age were all drab and humorless. And yes dammit I want my clothes to have humor and elegance and grace. I realize this is not a small expectation. But we only have one self, one body to dress and by the gods of fiber I am going to have some fun.
       So where does one turn? I get physically ill looking at the fashion rags with the starving children they use as models. I feel sorry for them and I want to take them home and make them soup and creme brûlée.
     I peruse the sewing patterns and feel more inspired but you cannot try things on and send them back once you have taken the time and effort to make them. You are stuck with them. They emit a reproachful aura of failure when they do not meet your expectations. Was it me? or was it the design?
     I am a skilled sewist, have made clothes for myself and all sorts of decorative items for my home so I am not likely to have a crisis in confidence at this point. But I do like to try things on.
So. This is what I found. First in Denmark and then here in NY
                                                     and this is what I bought:

These fit the bill. And it seems to be a good company. And the clothes are FUN. And comfortable. And they fit.  And if you are so inclined, you can wear them with clothes from past collections. Love them.

Monday, August 31, 2015

Road Trip!

We left before the light.

There was a nice guy at Dunkin Donuts. And Coffee.

Bailey drove the whole way - 1670 miles.

Bailey and Fluffy the alligator. They served fried alligator. Poor Fluffy. Dinner at Mr. Eds's.

Bourbon St. Slow Season.

Mississippi River at dawn.

St Luis Cathedral. The oldest cathedral in the US. ocerlooking Jackson Square in New Orleans. 

Cafe au lait and ...


Kevin and Bailey in Houston-dinner at Ruggles Black.

Statue of Sam Houston

Homeward bound.

Tuesday, May 12, 2015


dresses in the closet
I don’t know why I counted them 

seven survivors 
worthy  desirable
at least 
in so much
as can be revealed in public places
in a 
not denied entry 
kind of way.

: that would pass 
given enough time,
even the carefully edited collection loses its relevance

you are the compendium of all of our hopes and dreams
and also the what we have to put before we go outside. along with our faces and expectations

I taste the cloth between my fingers 
and categorize each by its texture
a memory imprinted on my fingertips
signaling for recall 
to unfurl and fill in the rest. 
like a fern frond

That one was bought in a shop on a corner of a street in Barcelona. 
And that one I wore to lunch of tapas in Oxford.

Never mind that I have never been to either place. I could have,
in that dress.

It was a good time.  

Friday, March 20, 2015

without this -last day of winter poem

the winter trees are brown with promise

tired snow lays listlessly on the ground

yielding patches of its former glorious

sun soaked chlorophyll drunk riotous color.

this is what we draw:
leaves, fences, faces, time travel, 
stacks of books,
clutches of pens,
promise of blank paper,
whisper of time.
this is what we fill with each stroke, each intention, 

each bow drawn across the strings,
straining to hear ancestral composer’s articulations

building bridges through generations, 

to the seeds of yestertime

without this we are still some form of us
we are still we and
without this we are hollow
soundless paper marionettes dancing 
dangling in the foul wind 

of fruitless winter

Saturday, February 14, 2015

personal ad from 20 years ago

Angry woman.
near forty. Broke. alcoholic. two time loser with four kids. Likes to take long walks off short piers. For a good time call .....

Valentines Day Détente

it is my heart talking
those words you cannot quite hear
the ones you strain to listen to 

lean in to catch

but the torrent continues
you think you get the gist of it
then it rains on
and you realize 
you did not hear what 
you thought you were listening to

when you heard what you 
thought my heart was saying

its all right
its just another kind of energy that connects us

we read between the lines-
as if that were possible -
to ever even understand what
someone else is feeling 

much less to be able to convey this
with an alphabet of mirrors and lost art

its all right. 
we assume so much 
in direct opposition to our own finity.

legacy! all hail!
the stones thud against us 
and fall,
mad meteors

we lean in

as we strain to hear the angel’s song

Monday, January 05, 2015

DNA~ january 5, 2014

Her DNA thrums 
like water under ground,
going places.

waiting for her to listen, 
to see, 
to be able 
to claim her place; 
make a left turn, resolve
to become the navigator of her own chemistry:

a treasure hunter – 
pirate of her own ocean -
drifting on the periphery of her 
softly folded in 

for what of this plunder? pillage? loot?
What lust 
is thus 
for it is not the treasure 
that seduces us
like sirens,
surges in us 
like sudden, 
unfathomable desire.  

It is not the plunder, 
but the hunt. 
Always the hunt

Friday, December 26, 2014

busy month! Happy New year!!

knitted ornaments

knitted ornaments

window shopping

luke calls it a cave

Bailey made cupcakes

swiftmas happened

luke and bailey
the office
pretty things
knitting happened

7 months!