ten years ago today, I started this blog . exactly 1,185 posts later and here I am. I didn't know what I was doing, I didn't kno...

the internet never stops and sometimes I don't know what I'm doing here. it's an ocean of voices and ideas and sometimes it ...

last week's blues: skylights (a la fellini's), forty-fives (for playing), benefits (of living in the south again), n...

last week's orange: new eyes over new landscapes   (with thanks to mr. proust), emergency tulips, favorite diner, absolute f...

last week's green: new orleans throwback, green grass reading (the best kind of reading), a bridge I miss so much it hurts...

last week's pink: a dream-worthy front stoop, an old neighborhood favorite, an excuse to eat cupcakes , an argument for the un...

last week's yellow: parking lot concrete, gallery salutations, lovely mission details, sunshine box collection, the most p...

last week's reds: christmas ukulele, rothko meets rauschenberg, scene from a moving train, bloodiest o...

choose the blood oranges over the regular ones. the building with the bright red door, the socks with the lime green stripes. drive down t...

'in the end, we will not remember the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.' -martin luther king, jr (mural by...

we were so tired that night. so tired. we'd been on the road for a week, spent the larger part of the day driving the streets of palm ...

steeped in december over here. which really just means I'm busy pinching sap off the ends of christmas tree branches to rub into the p...

there are lovely things to be shared here, friends. but I can't pretend. that ferguson isn't happening. that dr. huxtable didn't...

or, the beginnings of a love letter. 1. the light on yamhill and 10th around magic hour 2. the smell of franz bread baking near NE 11th...

this is the jar of magical thinking. aka, the jar that sits on the blue wooden table and holds scraps of paper with ava...