photobooth friday

friday=good. me=happy.

(always more here, always)

little worlds

it happens every time we go to the library. I tell the kids only two books. okay, three. okay, seven. and then there I am on the fourth floor, lost in my favorite aisle, my own arms heavy with a ridiculous amount of books, more than I could ever possibly read. my eyes are bigger than my stomach, my appetite voracious. why why why did I not bring a book bag? or a wheelbarrow? a wheelbarrow would be the just the thing. plus, I like the idea of us maneuvering a wheelbarrow full of books down 10th avenue, wobbly and grinning like idiots. I like that idea very much.

I allow myself to check out as many as I can carry. I check them all out because I want each one at my disposal. ready at any given moment, stacked sweetly just beneath my turquoise wooden desk and so available, deliciously available. I want options. I want access to this world and that one, I want the insides cracked open bit by bit or all at once. I want to leisurely thumb through one and then put it down for a week, I want to read three books at the same time. this is the same line of reasoning that has me packing 12 pairs of shoes and 5 different cameras for a weekend getaway. I want options.

I check books out over and over again and half expect to get a note from the library that says, really? again with this book? I admit, I do this because I can. the thing is, I own many, many books. between me and the mister, there's no shortage of books, we are swimming in books, we are mr. and mrs. book lovers of america but the library books, they are something different. they smell different. old and sweet like cigar boxes. they smell like knowledge. and possibility.

right now, I am all about possibility. I'm reading about art and writing and photography and dance, looking at these things in completely different ways. I'm realizing how intricately intertwined and elemental these things have become for me. I'm reading about teaching, I'm thinking about teaching, things are opening up, new developments are in the works and I'm excited, so incredibly excited, more excited than I've been in a long, long time. I'm writing about these ideas and I'm typing so fast that ava says it looks like my fingers are dancing. and I don't even know how to type but she's right. books are flying open and pages are turning and eyes are scanning and ideas are dancing, minds are spinning. worlds are about to shift and change in small and maybe not so small ways. and the books, they continue to feed me like nothing else can. they sit at my feet and they wait to be opened. they wait for greatness.

m is for manzanita

three days plus thirteen wild women plus the ocean plus sunlight plus the moonlight plus food as art plus one bonfire plus bra-burning plus music plus dancing plus one pink wig equals something like a lovebomb.

I felt a little like I hit the jackpot. I showed up wondering if there was room for me. I mean, really. would there be a place for me? plus, how was I going to hide from all those cameras? that's a whole different story. let me tell you, I failed. miserably, gloriously. I let go. I am letting go. I plan on doing more of the letting go.

and in my letting go, I made space for more.

and she's eight

little people are slowly turning into big people around here. and I am becoming more and more convinced that I have missed my true calling as someone who throws birthday parties for children and likes it a little too much.



that ava, she is officially eight. wasn't I just talking about five and six? did I even get around to seven?



several months ago, she asked for a party with a chinese theme. it was all I could do to keep from emitting a series of high-pitched screams. oh, the possibilities! picture me wild-eyed, visions of red paper lanterns and pink parasols dancing in my head. I could not help myself.







it's my 7th birthday that I remember most. me in a frothy confection of a dress, white organza with a layer of candy pink underneath. I remember the way my mom transformed the living room of our very brown split level home into a sugary sweet land of hovering balloons and crepe paper magic. the whole scene is faded but forever set in my mind like a partially developed polaroid. we are playing musical chairs, pin the tail on the donkey in slow motion. I am wearing bright white socks carefully pulled to the tops of my knees and shiny black mary janes. I am surrounded by a collection of friends: marsha and melanie from across the street, michelle and anna from my first grade class and cindy, the class bully. whom I invited because I was afraid of what might happen to me if I didn't. cut to the part where they are all singing to me and I am smiling, gathering breath to take out seven tall, skinny birthday candles, wishing it could all go on forever.



so this is my gift to them, year after year. parties they will always remember, details that will (hopefully) find their way into stories they will eventually tell about childhood. I'm not going to lie, I thoroughly enjoy it, probably a little too much. I love the entire process, from beginning to end. the planning, the brainstorming and researching of ideas, the collecting of supplies, the making, the doing. I love it. this is something I can give them, so I do. and I will continue on with it until that day when they pretend it is so uncool. when my enthusiasm is just too much for them to take. I will step down graciously, I promise.



until then, all bets are off. happy 8th birthday, sweet girl. not sure how we are going to top this one. I think this one was my favorite.


p.s. back in june, ezra turned four and had a robot party. where are the photographs and the stories? they are coming. am now completely undecided as to which was more fun: chinese paper lanterns or robots wearing party hats.

p.p.s. the ideas for ava's party were already pretty much in place but my sweet friend christina sent me this link which just about sent me over the edge of happy creative party-making. thank you, christina.

p.p.p.s. see ava's entire birthday bash here.

p.p.p.p.s. yes, I do like the p.s. thing. a lot.

and then, on the way home

tying up the loose end that is/was san francisco. holy smokes with the highway 101 and all there is to see along the way. we stopped about every five miles and you might think I'm kidding but I am not. between paul bunyan's giant boot and the spectacular pacific ocean and beach caves and hippie farmers markets and emus (yes, emus) and the giant-sized redwood drive-through trees, well, we never really stood a chance. it took us five days to get home. okay, not really. but many many hours. many many many hours.

it's been a little quiet here lately, yes I know. oh friends. so much going on. most of it good, a tiny bit not so good. and the postcard swap, I know. I am slow in pulling it all together this year but it's happening, I promise, it's happening.

thursday, thursday plus photobooth friday

for the record: this is the one where ezra refuses to cooperate. which, I think, makes for a more dynamic composition. but whatever. we dragged that kid all over the place. we should have known that once he'd had enough he'd pull out the big guns and refuse to participate in the happy family show we had going in the booth. smart kid, that ezra. he knows my weaknesses, he knows how to bargain. what it cost me: two more quarters (for him) plus a modest-sized chunk of my patience. but I got my san francisco photobooth strip, yes I did.



and while we were wandering the great aisles of the musee mecanique, I ran into he of the spectacular photobooth skills. he was standing on a small ladder, repairing one of the vintage arcade games. I recognized him immediately. really, how could I not? I introduced myself and we proceeded to engage in a lively conversation regarding what else? photobooths. naturally.



ah, musee mecanique. where the antique arcade games are somewhere between mildly creepy and absolutely charming.



thursday was also a day for double decker carousel rides.



and a new someone for the stranger project



plus, plenty of souvenir shopping



and of course, cable car rides.

more photobooth friday here. and I promise I'm almost done with this san francisco love affair. I promise.

wednesday, wednesday

yes, still with all the san francisco business. I am one step away from inviting everyone I know over to my house for a slide show. not that I'm proud of that but my intentions are solid. really, they are.

so, two weeks ago on a wednesday and why the mission neighborhood is sort of beating out chinatown as my favorite:


laundry that sings


climbing flowers that seem to glow plus tasty breakfasts with super rad pals named lisa


shoes that are cute plus lunches at sweet mexican places places with extremely lovely people like mati and kelly rae


murals


good lord, the murals


and the street art




good lord, the street art


really, color at every corner


ridiculous, maybe even ridonculous


and the thrift stores


I mean, really

just look at what ten dollars brought home

plus, there's fruit


which I realize is pretty much everywhere and not exactly unique to the area

but mission fruit is probably special

because I don't know

it just is.

(also swaying my vote: places where mopping is an accepted daily practice)

tuesday, tuesday

things learned on a tuesday:

wind-blown hair is the secret

sun-drenched kitchens are not to be underestimated

cars like pearl are to be loved and shamelessly adored

breakfast really is the most important meal of the day

especially when prepared by a professional breakfast-cooker

ferry rides are magic

as are most carousel rides

mexican coca cola is so much better

riley has the eye

cupcakes are the second most important meal of the day

never leave a fruit stand empty-handed

always, always run to catch the ferry

even if you don't think you're going to make it

because chances are, you will