Nature Always Wins.

This past week my house in pennsylvania flooded and it caught me off guard more than i thought it would. Houses flood all of the time... people deal with this constantly, right? But when it's your things that are affected you go into immediate panic mode and when you're far away it feels even worse. I didn't know what was ruined, what was salvageable. Dozens of my books that i'd collected over the years at school would have their pages pressed together, my grandfather's photos soggily stuck to their pages, rugs full of water underfoot. It's strange to see decades spread out in empty spaces of your house all mingling together. Textbooks on dada next to class photos of my grandfather from high school, Fitzgerald novels next to polaroids from the 80s of family trips to Disney World. History comes together, nature always wins.

Snippets.

It All Takes Time.

Sometimes i forget how many steps it takes to cook, and when you decide to cook a large family dinner i love that it takes all day. Prepping food, measuring out ingredients, getting timing just right, setting tables, making things presentable. I wish i could just cook and bake and be in an apron and making delicious food for all of the people that i love all day every day, it's something i always want to share.

Home Is Where You Hang Your Hat.

Two weekends in a row i've left the city, and only until you live in new york will you realize how necessary it is to clear your head. Coming home to leave work, and subways, and cabs, and $8 cocktails, and meager dinners, and being in a hurry to get everywhere even if you don't have any reason to be there at a certain time, and more caffeine than is healthy, and judging and getting judged, and reminders that you're one little being amongst so many, and being more tired than you knew was humanly possible. It will be nice when coming home doesn't mean that i'm here to get my mouth pried open for dentists and periodontists and endodontists, with metal tools clanking against teeth you can't feel anymore because the roots aren't there, and novocaine needles housed in their menacing silver casing, and plastic that pulls apart your cheeks so that you can have an alien like probes shoot x-rays of your bones. Either way there will never be a time when home doesn't mean baking, endless amounts of being in the kitchen, standing mixing brownies, and cookies, and pasta, and sauce, and vegetables, looking at all different kinds of cookbooks, printed recipes and handwritten ones splayed out on the concrete counters side by side, some with flour all over them lovingly and some brand new and some crisply printed, never tried. I love home and waking up only hearing birds and nothing else, seeing trees outside my window. Family is good, and home is good, and it makes me feel relaxed just stepping foot inside the doorframe on the back porch, Lily running to greet me. I cannot wait for a home of my own, a place to be proud of, animals that meet me when i'm home from work, a place to make me feel at ease.

Beauty, Pt. II.

These flowers look like they've just woken up from a peaceful slumber and are stretching while a beam of sunlights warms them. A yawn escapes, and then they're ready to start their day.

Pink cherry blossom / time-lapse from munich time-lapse on Vimeo.

Check it.

Ch ch ch ch check it out. Can never have enough.

All Good Things.

Bob Willoughby turned 80 years old last year, and decided that it was about time for him to release many of his prints that had never been showcased by galleries. So, as we do these days, he put them up on a flickr account. I really like this picture of Audrey Hepburn he posted. Somehow it feels like we're looking through a keyhole into her world, and her world is so bizarre and beautiful. Of course Audrey Hepburn's life includes calmly feeding baby deer and huge bouquets of flowers. 

Peony Beauty.

Peony time-lapse from munich time-lapse on Vimeo.

What We Eat in the Summertime.

A Breather.

Sometimes my head needs a whole lot of nothing to clear itself. The most expansive amount of that nothing for me is in Vermont. I sit atop large rocks in the middle of wildflowers looking out into a valley spotted by red barns. Take long walks that amble throughout fields and densely packed trees. I sit in a kitchen while a cat purrs on my lap. Horses play in a field and there is green all around me. So much, yet nothing at all. Life feels correct in Vermont, i think they're onto something. Someday i will be there for a while.

The First Few Weeks of Summer.