90/365

three things saving me from a deep and widening black hole of despair today:

the shawl vault that, of course, belongs to stevie knicks
the thought of a small child named volodia documenting a 1924 soviet leningrad with an unwieldy large format camera
the idea that scenes like this exist, in real life, in the world we live in, they exist

89/365

childhood books I read over and over again-- tirelessly, joyfully-- books I loved so much it hurt:

maria tallchief (tobi tobias)-- purchased in first grade at the school book fair, filled with gorgeous pencil drawings of a native american dancer who went on to become a famous prima ballerina with the new york city ballet-- I spent hours examining the drawings and though I have long since parted ways with ballet (modern dance forever) this book was the definitive beginning of a life devoted to the study of dance (there are still times I want to slip back inside this book and become maria tallchief)

peppermint (dorothy grider)-- a litter of kittens is born in the back of a candy shop and all of them find a home but one, a sickly little white kitten named peppermint-- the heartbreak, I could not take it-- which is probably why I read it a hundred million times

little majorette (dorothy grider)-- baton twirling was never really my thing but the pictures of the costumes in this book (specifically a little red two-piece number with bright white fringe and matching white leather boots) had me seriously reconsidering

I know a story (miriam blanton huber, frank seely salisbury, mabel o'donnell)-- pretty much your standard collection of classic tales but the last story in the book, the boy who went to the north wind, was about a magic stick and a magic goat and a magic tablecloth and wind that actually talked and a boy and his mother who had nothing but got everything in the end 

popular party games (alison m. abel)-- purchased at the school book fair in second grade and the beginning of a lifelong obsession with party planning-- there's a price tag on the front marked 30 cents and my initials scrawled next to it which means at some point, I probably tried to sell this book at family yard sale-- thank the good lord it never sold because there are key sentences underlined throughout, specific game titles circled and entire paragraphs crossed out-- it's a little piece of second grade andrea and I die when I think how easily it could have disappeared into the ether

flicka, ricka, dicka and the strawberries (maj lindman)-- checked out from the local library repeatedly and then purchased twenty years later at an antique mall somewhere in tennessee-- to be clear, I loved all the flicka, ricka, dicka books as well as the snip, snap and snurr books (because old-fashioned storybooks about swedish triplets are meant to be adored)-- however, this particular flicka, ricka, dicka book just about did me in-- the girls (in adorable matching red and white dresses, mind you) go on a picnic in the woods, get lost while picking wild strawberries, and are taken in by a sweet family who has nothing-- in the end, the family helps them get back home safely and the girls return with a basket filled with strawberries and milk and bread and other assorted goodies to repay the kindness and every time, my little seven year-old heart burst wide open reading this, every single time

88/365

things about my library:

it smells, inexplicably, like a swimming pool and this, inexplicably, comforts me
there are generous wooden tables that line a sweeping wall of windows
there's almost always a seat available at one of these tables
there's a lovely quiet to it in the morning
as the day goes on, it fills with people and by late afternoon it's almost thunderous with community and life 
there are often people there learning english, practicing english, which I love 
there are often students there working on class projects together, which I love
there's a quiet room, for quiet working, which I also love
there's a lucky day shelf, which I always, always check
they have the smallest, saddest collection of photography books, but I forgive them
it feels like home to me

87/365

words I had to stop and look up in the dictionary in february:

desiccated
tatterdemalion
quotidian
maladroit
ebullition
exigent
crenulated
sluice
flocculent
gravid

86/365

things that have been really great about this list project:

the welcome respite from places like instagram
the inevitable creative growth that comes with a continued, consistent daily practice
and no one is really reading so I can pretty much write what I want

85/365

guilty pleasures:

mcdonald cokes
sitcom reruns
white cheddar cheetos
cheap nail polish
krispy kreme donuts

84/365

dreams I had this week:

that my tooth fell out and as I held it, people commented on it and said it looked shiny, like a rock

that I was standing in line for brunch with chris pratt and teased him about the action films he does now, but told him it was okay because, you know, we're friends

that I found a bird in the house, a brilliant red cardinal, actually-- perched on the edge of the kitchen counter by the stove and I could see it so clearly and it delighted me, it absolutely delighted me

83/365

current obsessions:

cara cara oranges
dollar store candles

the planning of imaginary trips 

82/365

things that make me think of my mom:

cardinals
quilts
pink skies
ironstone pitchers
scottie dogs
olive garden
the color pink

81/365

things I'm wondering:

when the tree in the front yard will explode with blooms
when (if) I will find my typewriter in the black hole that is the garage
how long I can actually keep making these lists

80/365

secret super powers I possess, part one:

road trip planning

parallel parking

spelling

and I can walk in your house and tell you exactly how many lamps you need and where exactly they should be placed

79/365

three places I would please like to be magically transported to right now:

the small balcony of a seventh floor apartment in chinatown
powell's books, third floor, the pearl room, photography section
the window seat of the coast starlight, traveling south from portland to san francisco

78/365

things I tried really, really hard not to think about today because it was saturday and the clouds were puffy and white and for once, we were out in it and there was cake with pink frosting waiting for us at home:

taxes
dentists
health insurance

77/365

current inspiration:

hale county this morning, this evening
the unconscious art of demolition
this movement, these movers
shana's lovely and amazing project
kateri's grizzled elder necklace
hong kong alleyways
a confetti collection

76/365

boys I have loved:

greg
jason
dustin
billy 
sean
cute boy met while on vacation down in florida in 1982 whose name I can't remember
mark 
kelly
bryan
troy
brent
charles
adam
stu
kip
darren
joe
ward
ward, forever

75/365

things I collect:

found photographs
the number seven
sleepover suitcases
tiny vases
enamel pins
45 record sleeves
seashells 
souvenir pennants
sterling silver charms
cigar boxes
moments

74/365

vinyl on heavy, heavy rotation this week:

miles davis: kind of blue
stevie wonder: music of my mind
aretha franklin: I never loved a man (the way I love you)

73/365

words and phrases recently heard while watching british period films that I'd very much like to work into my own vernacular:

"wangle"
"behest"
"come take the night air with me"
"higgledy-piggledy"
"tinker's cuss"
"I have spoken, all depart"

72/365

things I'm doing to get through february:

reading books
peeling oranges
lighting candles
taking walks
baking cakes
eating cakes
cake
cake 
cake

71/365

three boards for me today, three:

happy
color//colour
movement as art

70/365

photographs I did not take:

the way he looked at me this morning
the light on the bed this afternoon
the pink skies tonight

69/365

small pleasures, part four:

cotton candy
warm towels
lightning bugs
train windows
lemon slices
library books
bubble wrap

68/365

recently discovered:

cara cara oranges
a secret entrance to the creek
another version of a song I very much like
a german grocery store
hibiscus tea

67/365

lies I have told, part one:

"yes of course I like wine"
"yes of course I like cilantro"
"yes of course I watch game of thrones"

66/365

cameras I have loved:

a polaroid one step, which I don't remember actually owning, just loving, loving to bits and pieces

a pentax K-1000, which I also didn't own, but used while learning the basics of photography in a high school art class-- the numbers and settings thoroughly overwhelmed and confused me but I never forgot how good and heavy and solid and right it felt in my hands

a little black plastic 110, which was the first camera I remember actually owning, and it was a crap camera that took crap pictures but I loved it anyway because it was mine, because it was all I had, and because it went with me on my first trip overseas 

a fairly unremarkable (though trusty) nikon 35mm film point and shoot, which I used to document my angsty city life in the nineties

a canon AE-1 35mm film SLR, which belonged to ward, who occasionally let me shoot with it and every time, all the old high school art class feelings came rushing back, every time

a canon rebel 35mm film SLR, which ward and I bought together and then took turns shooting with on a trip to italy in 1999, and I didn't know it then but this would be the beginning of a legit return to photography and the camera with which I would shoot all of ava and ezra's sweet early childhood days

a canon powershot point and shoot, my first digital camera and the one I used for my very first 365 project back in 2006-2007

a polaroid SX-70, which I fell head over heels crazy in love with the minute it spit out that first dreamy polaroid and surely I have made some of my very best work with this lovely, miraculous piece of machinery

a holga 120N medium format, which I received nearly fifteen years ago and throw in my bag every once in a while because hoo boy when you get it right with the holga, you really get it right and I will never not love this boxy, plastic girl

a nikon D90 35mm DSLR, which was my first digital SLR and she saw me through some pretty monumental personal growth and I will always be grateful for her 

a polaroid automatic 100, which is a lovely beast of a camera that uses the inimitable peel apart film which is just like nothing else in this world, nothing

a canon FTb 35mm film SLR, which I miraculously thrifted ten years ago and wow wow wow this camera makes beautiful photographs and just feels like a big beautiful tank in my hands

a yashica-D medium format TLR, which was generously gifted to me by a workshop student a few years ago and the first time I loaded it with film and shot with it, it felt like home

a canon EOS 5D mark iii, my first full frame camera, which I bought used and immediately tricked out with gorgeous old glass (a nikon 50mm 1.4 lens, originally meant for a nikon film camera) and this camera, this camera is my workhorse, I tell you, my ride or die

a fujifilm X100 original, aka the poor mans leica, which I recently found used and fell instantly, madly in love with as it so beautifully fuses digital with analog and is small and light and perfect for street work and holy wow, the sensor, like none other, she is destined for greatness, I tell you, I feel it, I feel it in my bones

65/365

things I cannot bring myself to do, part two:

delete facebook
watch an entire super bowl
take the christmas tree down

64/365

books I read in january:

on composition and improvisation (larry fink)
a separate peace (john knowles)
the complete persepolis (marjane satrapi)
a thousand mornings (mary oliver)
dear america, notes of an undocumented citizen (jose antonio vargas)
bird by bird: some instructions on writing and life (anne lamott)

63/365

on this first day of february:

dishes, washed
plants, watered
walk, taken
piece, not finished
deadline, not met
daffodils, purchased
pajamas, welcomed