Thursday, July 18, 2013


Relative permanence. Exhale. #NYC

Kale, garlic, and onions come together over a low flame. The rice is done and keeps warm in a sauce pot on the stove. A touch of sweet chili sauce and dinner is ready. My bare feet dance around this kitchen, slapping the shiny hardwood floor in rhythm with Beirut's '06 album, Gulag Orkestar (check Mount Wroclair/ Idle Days below).

Kitchen in my hauz!

Made it. Live here. Manhattan, ladies and gentlemen, is home. This morning I explored the neighborhood, happened upon a bi-weekly farmers market at the end of my block (serendipitous, no?), got the aforementioned produce for dinner, and then headed downtown for a bike ride through central park. It's brutally hot and humid, but sweat on my neck and salt on my lips only add to the romance of all this change.

There's a farmer's market at the end of my block, and everyone speaks Spanish! Two birds, one stone. Dinner

Thank gosh for hot nights and good music in a new town. 
Thank gosh for great apartments, and for nestling in. 
Thank gosh for all of that backpack living, and for a slow transition from life on the road to permanence...what a beautiful thing.

Dancing, making dinner with goodies from the farmers market, and appreciating the   view. Who lives over there? Want to talk through an aluminum can telephone?

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