letters

i speak of cold purpose because the words don't flow like water from my pen anymore.

home is a familiar fog, blurry and bittersweet. people are growing up all over the place, nathan to penn for law school, jane to med school in baltimore, hannah deferring to both of her top choice colleges and trying for a job at tomato palace. i somehow thought (in vain) when i went away that everything would crystallize.

seeing kevin was brilliant; reminded me of my roots and who i was once. he's grown his hair without abandon...and i've chopped mine and now it stands untethered.

i heart a few things these days -- simply orange juice, pomegranate dark chocolate chip haagen dazs ice cream, avocados and fuji apples in salads.

tonight: indian food chez moi followed by the new indiana jones movie in the theaters. attended by my parents and richard the blankman.

Pablo Picasso
Guitar, Sheet Music, and Wine Glass
1912
McNay Art Museum, San Antonio

audrey's gone

and michelle's basically moved out of our casa.

this week:

• today...café mozart with the lovely lisa cohen, clio's viola recital at juilliard, afterparty in the bronx
• tuesday...dinner for derin and cesare (ratatouille! among other things.)
• wednesday...guggenheim with kevin lubrano (!) then dinosaur bbq in harlem with some purchase kids
• thursday...packin'
• friday...lunch at jean-louis, possible shift at rebecca's
• saturday...cookin for some waitstaff (black beans and rice, homemade guac, sangria?)
• sunday....skippin town.

and that, my friends, is how we go out in style.

Cai Guo-Qiang, "Inopportune: Stage One" (2004)

soon to be

back home in the not-quite-paradise of columbia, md.

today:

• ride to nyc on the big yellow buses (tyler wore my hat to keep warm)
• concert with pso at symphony space under maestra tania león
• quick trip to the store where i not quite raided the produce section for bananas, blackberries, blueberries, yellow and green bell peppers, italian eggplant, onion, and salad greens
• dinner of pasta with eggplant, tomatoes, green/yellow pepper, onion and copious amounts of garlic plus some grilled chicken i had in the fridge, plenty of fresh ground pepper and dried rosemary + a salad of mixed greens, blueberries, scallions and dry toasted pine nuts with a white balsamic/dijon mustard vinaigrette (could have been better with warm goat cheese à la bar harbor, maine) while watching a rerun of "reaper"

tomorrow, last shift at the library...*sniff* and lunch parties with fellow circs and tutors. last meeting with carol bankerd (it's been an intriguing semester) and an evening of bassoon music.

i am reluctant to box my stuff up because that would mean that i have to start looking for places to live again. can't i just keep the kitchen and my bed forever? the set up is pretty sweet.

thoughts on projects to come: working for cirque du soleil seems amazing...but what do they look for, exactly? who is ideal? i feel conventional.

i need something to work towards.

when i was in paris, at first, when i felt like a fish out of water (different pond to be sure), i would read tintin comics every day. they had all the old ones in the bedroom. just picture me, in my little lofted bed, reading aloud old french slang.

taken at the hergé centennial exhibition in paris last year. meredith, dina, bevin and i were there!

crossin'

we are all but curious children. it is interesting to consider what compels us to greet the new day, smile into the mirror, join the pulse.

i dream of toy boats in the jardin de luxembourg - lazy afternoons on kathmandu out of art's dock on the magothy, sun on my neck - baguette sandwiches by the fountain in front of the sorbonne - paris bridges in steady rain - hands in my hair - slaps of sensual "juli-o" - knowing other people's happiness.

upcoming:

• flute/tuba/dancers project inside/outside performance clothes/street with susan wheatley, cara heerdt and friend.
• orchestra concert with maestra tania león at symphony space, nyc, may 11
  
• flute trio in crystal zagarello's recital, may 16
  

Paul Signac, Plane Trees, Place des Lices, Saint-Tropez, Opus 242, 1893

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