Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Contrasting Elements


My metropolitan garden. From left to right: Peace lily, basil, sage, tomato, oregano, thyme, basil, sweet basil, cilantro, a third basil. It smells like heaven and brings me a ridiculous amount of pleasure.

I love this photo because of the contrast between the stark, urban background, the clean lines of modern technology, the soft curtain swaying in the breeze and the lush, green, vibrant plant life.

07.09.09

Monday, July 13, 2009

This counts. IT COUNTS.

Adam took this photo so technically it doesn't count. Technically. But I've never been a very technical person and this photo so perfectly captures my absolute favorite moment of this day, more so than any photo I took.


Our first two years in this city were so hard. A hardness I couldn't have prepared for, a hardness that we're both still not sure how we managed to survive. I know I can speak for Mike when I say we both felt isolated, terribly alone, out of place. We worked our tails off to make a cruddy rat-hole a cozy home, but we didn't have a family to share it with. Yes, we had each other and our animals, thank goodness. But, and I can't speak for Michael on this, I am used to having a huge family of relatives and friends that I can surround myself with at any time of day or night. But in New York? There wasn't anyone.

Yet.

It takes a long time to forge the kinds of relationships that become like family, whether you are blood related or not. That was not something I understood until I moved across the country. It has really helped that Adam, one of my very closest chosen family members, moved here in September. But it has also helped that we've been here a while and the people who were strangers two years ago, are friends we've known for two years now.

Lately I just haven't felt so alone. Or isolated. And certainly not out of place. Our shiny, new apartment is almost always full of people, laughter, and music. Cocktails flow freely and the food is always delicious and we always stay up much later than we should. And I am so, so, so grateful for that.

I picked this photo because even I can see the happiness on my face here. Mike and I did not know the photo was being taken, so what's captured is a totally genuine moment. And I realize that it looks like I am strangling my husband, but really what I am doing is scratching under his chin, something that both of us think the other couldn't possibly love as much as we do. But we both love it. Oh, how we love it.

07.08.09

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Two very different beauties

I finally understand why people make such a big fuss over East Coast Ivy Leagues.


Of course, I mean, other than the fact that they are incredible institutions of learning. But also, goodness! Have you ever seen anything so gorgeous in your life? Welcome to Columbia University.

And then there is this. This is what my life has been for the last ... it's been weeks.

Perfectly beautiful, serene, full of laughter and love and creativity.

I can't believe this is my life.

07.07.09

p.s. I love this photo because I think it looks like it was taken in the seventies. And I am a little obsessed with vintage photographs. Although, not fake vintage photographs like this one. You know what I mean.


Saturday, July 11, 2009

Ring Finger




This is my engagement ring. I've always loved old things. Things with stories. Things that once were loved by someone else.

We'd been talking about marriage for about six months when Mike took me to the jewelry district in downtown Los Angeles one sunny Sunday afternoon. We wandered the stalls and he pointed out pretty solitaires and glittering pave settings and stunning emerald-cut sparklers. And I shrugged and shook my head and passed the booths and wondered out loud where we could find some coffee.

"What kind of a ring would you want?"
"Something simple. I don't know. My great-grandmother had this ring that was all setting and very little diamond. I always loved that ring."

He stopped at the nearest booth and asked the woman at the counter if she had any antique diamond rings. She reached under the counter and removed a small velvet box. It was dingy and the velvet was wearing thin on the corners. When she opened it, the hinges creaked, but inside was magic. A tiny, tarnished, delicate ring, a cupcake of filigree surrounded by intricate engraving. A relic of artistic virtue from long ago. I couldn't breathe. The woman handed me the ring and I slipped it on my finger and my heart was beating so fast and tears spilled from my eyes. And then I was embarrassed because who cries over an old tarnished ring? Mike started laughing then, and said, "So I guess you like that one?" And he put his hand on the small of my back, winked at the woman, and took me out for coffee.

A week later we were sitting at the top of the ferris wheel at the Santa Monica Pier and he was fumbling around in his pocket and then he was holding the little ring out to me and asking me to be his wife. And I was laughing and shaking and then he dropped the ring and thank God we were not in one of those ferris wheels with the open bottom.

When we married, we could not afford a wedding band to match my engagement ring. I wanted something delicate and slender, that I could wear on its own or as a set. Something feminine and lovely and simple. I work with my hands a lot, I am not a prissy girl, and I did not want my ring to be in my way. It wasn't until this past Christmas that Mike was finally able to buy me a wedding band. Again, he let me pick it out, this time in Manhattan's jewelry district. And again, I did not know for sure if we were just looking for fun or if he was planning to surprise me or what.

Christmas morning he handed me a tiny blue box and it was like getting engaged all over again.



Every time I look at these rings my heart swells and I think it will overflow. They look like candy to me. They sparkle and catch my eye and make me laugh. The wedding band is full of sapphires that are such a deep blue they are nearly black and Mike loves them as much as I do. As simple and lovely and small as my rings are, I find that I am always taking them off so I won't hurt them. I take them off to shower. I take them off to wash dishes. I take them off to hike and bathe the dogs and paint and practice yoga and bake. I find that I am not wearing my rings more often than I am wearing them.

"Does it bother you?"
"Not at all."
"Really? Because you bought me these beautiful rings and you went to so much trouble and now I never wear them and you must think I am so ungrate-"
"You know what I think of a woman who can wear diamonds every day? I think she must not use her hands very much. It says something about a woman."
"Are you sure you won't feel like it was a waste of money to buy me jewelry if I only wear it once in a while?"
"You deserve to have beautiful jewelry that you can wear when it is appropriate to wear beautiful jewelry. And the rest of the time you can wear something that makes sense with our busy, wonderful, useful life."

Two days before we married, we purchased matching sterling silver bands. They were to be stand-ins until we could afford something nicer. But as time went on, Mike realized he didn't want anything nicer because he, too, uses his hands so much. It wouldn't make sense for him to have something with filigree or stones. And I've begun to realize that the same is true for me. I'm a no-nonsense girl. I wear very little make-up. I live in sneakers and jeans and t-shirts. I use my hands a lot. I get dirty.

This ring, simple and sturdy as it may be, is a much better symbol of our marriage, our life. And it matches his. Perfectly.


07.06.09

Friday, July 10, 2009

They look prettier than they smell.

07.05.09


Doesn't he look regal? As if he's awaiting the whispers of angels to guide him in the pursuit of freedom. In reality, he's watching our friend Haley eat a cheeseburger.


And this one? She's watching her papa run the park stairs, keeping a close watch so that if any other dog goes near him, she can tear it to shreds. Or at least bark really loud.

Thursday, July 09, 2009

The Fourth of July

07.04.09


It was beautiful and awe-inspiring. It was also a little frightening. That much explosive power over the city skyline, the booming and the bursting, there were moments I had to turn away from it, bury my face in Michael's chest.

Tuesday, July 07, 2009

My favorite time of day

07.02.09
You're going to see a lot of these photos. Just be prepared.