11–15 of 15 entries from the month of: April 2013

The Ottoman Empire

April 8th

My house is a complete catastrophe; I’m moving again. The sweet house I’ve been renting must be returned to her owner. As such, I’ve been sorting through piles and piles and more piles of stuff.

How did this happen?

Moving, again

Once upon a time, I prided my ability to move everything I ever wanted within my trusty Civic. And for many years, that was easy enough to adhere to. I made very little, spent most of it on travel, and was happy to get hand-me-down furniture from family.

Ah, my 20s. Such an adventurous, frugal, high-and-mighty decade.

Oh, how the idealistic fall. Specifically, I fell into a house full of things I’ve come to love. A comfy bed. A couch. An ottoman. Slowly, I’ve built a tiny shabby chic home. African masks, handmade quilts, pottery my brother threw, photography from travels, a closet full of board games and a kitchen bursting with every gadget Williams and Sonoma could think of. My bookshelves are full, and my dining room table is often crammed with hungry friends. Most of the furniture still is either hand-me-down, or came in a box with 1,000 pieces and directions in “Ikea,” but it was all paid for with my work.

Moving, again

I’m moving in part to create a new home with a man I love. A man who loves me despite my hippie, thrifty tendencies. A man who dreams of living in one of those Architectural Digest houses made of glass and steel. You know this feature spread. There is but one couch in the middle of the living room, and no art on the walls. It includes the stick thin couple standing on a patio holding Manhattans, grinning with perfect teeth and shiny hair, while a best-in-show dog rests at their feet, patiently waiting their next command.

Moving, again

I have Nelson. Have you met Nelson? He is a $50 pound puppy who barks at every car that goes down his street and is the sweetest, cuddliest, most unruly dog on the planet. His favorite food is pizza, when he can’t find/reach the tortilla chips. He often sneaks upstairs early to stake out his spot on the end of my bed, meaning most mornings I have to shake dirt and muddy squeaker toys off the sheets. I don’t like Manhattans (although the city itself is growing on me) and the idea of living in a glass and steel house gives me nightmares of being stuck in a dentist’s chair.

Moving, again

I’m sorting through all of this stuff — platters, frames, old linens, dusty copies of books I was supposed to read in college and have now moved (still unread) five times, bikes, shoes, shoes, handbags, tennis racquets and more shoes. It is liberating to get rid of all of this nonsense. I will not be owned my by things. I can walk away from it all, especially if it means walking toward the right person. A fresh start.

Nelson’s coming with. So are those quilts, and the pottery. And even some of the shoes.

This is an exciting, happy and very good place to be.

~K

 

Posted in
Journal
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Spring and the City

April 5th

The last few shots here and there of a city I no longer find overwhelming. Instead, I now understand it is huge, noisy, beautiful, difficult, always changing, complicated and unwilling to be conquered — but not unwilling to be explored.

Spring in the City

Spring in the City

View from a suite on the 41st floor of the Waldorf Astoria

Spring in the City

Spring in the City

Odd public art found along the Highline Park walk

Spring in the City

Spring in the City

Spring in Chelsea

Spring in the City

My favorite part of NYC: the number of languages that can be heard wandering the street.

Spring in the City

My least favorite part: the claustrophobia. Tiny elevators. Huge buildings. Cramped crosswalks. Elbows in my side, broken curb beneath my feet, sirens screaming, truck drivers vs. pedestrian, and very little room to hear my heartbeat.

Spring in the City

Spring in the City

Spring in the City

Spring in the City

The best things in NYC are free. The Met. The parks. The people watching. Such a great place to visit.

~K

Posted in
Travel
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5th Avenue Easter Parade

April 4th

NYC 5th Ave Easter Parade

Delightfully, we stumbled into the 5th avenue Easter parade after brunch. The street was closed; hundreds of people tumbled out of St. Patrick’s cathedral after morning mass, dressed in their finest. Others — including gorgeous drag queens, families with decorated strollers, socialites with hats tailored to match those worn by their teacup dogs, and just about anything else you can imagine — wandered with wide smiles down the street as the church bells tolled endlessly.

NYC 5th Ave Easter Parade

NYC 5th Ave Easter Parade

NYC 5th Ave Easter Parade

NYC 5th Ave Easter Parade

Some were celebrating Easter, others Spring and yet others the opportunity to dress in costume and be photographed.

NYC 5th Ave Easter Parade

NYC 5th Ave Easter Parade

NYC 5th Ave Easter Parade

NYC 5th Ave Easter Parade

NYC 5th Ave Easter Parade

NYC 5th Ave Easter Parade

NYC 5th Ave Easter Parade

NYC 5th Ave Easter Parade

NYC 5th Ave Easter Parade

It was a surprising display of happy humanity. Everyone was so nice to each other and there was an attitude of pure celebration.

NYC 5th Ave Easter Parade

NYC 5th Ave Easter Parade

NYC 5th Ave Easter Parade

Dogs in hats? I LOVE DOGS IN HATS.

NYC, keep it up. You quirky, fun, misunderstood bunch of weirdos.

xo,

K

 

 

Posted in
Celebrate!, Faith, Travel
Comments (4)

Oh, the food.

April 3rd

I didn’t really get any good photographs of any of the fancy meals we ate. I was too busy, well, eating. And oh, New York, you are so good with the food. Even the gyro street carts with saffron rice and suspicious meat sources smelled delicious at times.

Oh, the food.

Oh, the food.

Ess-a Bagels is by far the best bagel I’ve ever had. So good, we ate there twice. (I’d eaten there the first time I was in NYC too, after getting a demanding recommendation from my friend — and former NYC librarian — Stacey.) The lox on an everything bagel is so good, I couldn’t finish it. The peanut butter and bacon on sesame? Well. I left little behind. I would eat here far too often if I lived in the city, and justify doing so with the endless miles you spend walking.

Plus, the guys behind the counter provide an authentic NYC experience. You get the feeling that if you don’t move through the line with enough speed, order with enough precision (there is no time to linger once you get to the counter), and do so in voce alto, they will holler back: NO BAGEL FOR YOU!

Oh, the food.

I’d never seen these in person — only in cooking magazines. Dean and DeLuca is quite possibly the most amazing foodie store I’ve ever had a chance to wander.

Oh, the food.

Oh, the food.

I want to buy the giant pig serving tray. Cute and useful! Also! I need to own absolutely nothing else at the moment. (Score the rare point for shopping restraint.)

Oh, the food.

Oh, the food.

And then there was the Easter brunch at the Waldorf:

Oh, the food.

Oh, the food.

Oh, the food.

We did not eat here, but walked through the lobby for these shots. What I couldn’t get a good photo of was the giant bowl of lobster. Unbelievable.

And then there was Eataly. Oh. MY. GOD! Eataly. All 75 floors of food and ingredient heaven.

Plus beautiful bakery window displays for the Easter weekend:

Oh, the food.

Oh, the food.

And great coffee shops:

Oh, the food.

And champagne by the iced bucket:

Oh, the food.

My favorite meal was Le Cirque lobster risotto. Or that peanut butter bacon bagel. Tough call.

A decadent escape!

~K

Posted in
Kitchen Talk, Travel
Comments (6)

The Met

April 2nd

A view from the Met

I’d never been to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I’d guess this place is never empty, but what a day we picked to visit. Good Friday — and it was packed with families speaking every language you could imagine.

Even though we had all day to wander, after just a few hours, I was ready to leave. It was too much, in a good way. My head was spinning from everything I’d seen. Cezanne. Matisse. Van Gogh. Picasso. Manet. Monet. And plenty of others who studied with these greats, created art just as beautiful, but didn’t rise to the same level of fame.

I felt like a kid who’d been dropped off at an ice cream buffet. Good! Good! Better! Amazing! Woozy!

Ohmygodwehavetoleaverightnow.

A view from the Met

(I will always think of Min and Jason when I see Degas.)

A view from the Met

A view from the Met

A view from the Met

A view from the Met

A view from the Met

A view from the Met

 

I felt so privileged to spend this time with art I’d only ever seen in books. And in a city of sirens, honking and smelly food carts — the world seemed to come spinning to a halt as crowds quietly and politely moved from room to room in awe of these masterpieces.

~K

Posted in
Travel
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