Manhattan, 2001

There are many things I don't miss about living in New York.

I'm taking off on Sunday for South Africa and Zimbabwe and will be gone for 3 weeks. I'll try to upload some photos while I'm there, but may have some technical difficulties due to a certain unpaid bill. We'll see!

Princeton, NJ, 1994

This van is so fuckin' beeyutiful, I can't fuckin' stand it!

Seth and I explore the curly, crusty hairs of the armpit of America, around Princeton.

I also think that was the last time I ate a doughnut.

Who ARE these hippie children?

Happy birthday, SeSu! Wish I was there to celebrate with you.

Asheville, NC, 2003

This gorgeous old bleach factory was demolished to build a Super Wal-mart. Progress!

Napa Valley, CA, 1997

This is an old favorite. I love the lines--the light and shadow by Kevin and the graceful motion of Lisa--and the mixture of silence and laughter.

Happy Birthday, Lisa!!

Berkeley, CA, 2003

I've been thinking about Sept. 11 a lot over the past few months. After 5 years, the minute details of that day have been catching up with me. I've felt a very human need to relay my personal experiences and connect with other people about what those of us in NYC went through on that bizarre day and the sad ones that followed. I think others I know are feeling this too--Doug and I talked about it when he was here this summer, and I picked up on it in one of Seth's recent blog entries (see "World Trade Shitter"). I planned to share some of my photos and memories of that particularly beautiful September morning here on this blog, which is nothing more than my folly read by a handful of my friends.

But I just can't.

In the past week, I've once again been bombarded by Our! National! Tragedy! (TM) and Saint Giuliani and public grief gone hollow. I don't in any way mean to diminish any one else's experiences or memories of that day, but I've found that for me, the personal is now inextricably tied to the political. So, as old Bob says, "I'll keep it with mine." I'm eager to reflect with others about what we went through as New Yorkers at that time, but only in a private setting.

So, as an alternative, I bring you...
FUCKING NACHOS:

As well as Josh's nasty nacho hands:

Durban, South Africa, 2005

The Quietest Day of the Year

Rain in Durban,
The quietest day of the year.
Crates of silver sardines
Stacked onto trucks;
Somber onlookers watch the haul
Like a drowning.

Taxi strike steals
The breath from the whistling city;
Young boy breath wasted huffing glue.
Buses too full for those of us waiting.

Another downpour.
The sidewalks empty.
My cluster of leaves is no longer enough --
Run for the cover of a flower seller and find
One fragrant breath.
Shirt soaked to skin again.
A warm, winter downpour in Durban
On the quietest, the shortest, day of the year.

-- June 21, 2005

Clarksdale, MS, 2006