112//365

once

I took a walk down edgewood avenue, past familiar bus stops and bars, past new murals and the remains of old ones. I stopped to make small talk with the owner of a barbershop, who invited me inside for a few minutes. the soft metallic hum of the clippers, the occasional sound of the broom, layers of conversation. if I could have tucked myself into a corner there for the rest of the afternoon, I would have. 

90//365

once

I hung out the car window as we drove by the old kodak building downtown atlanta on ponce and prayed it would not be devoured by the gentrifiers.

69//365

once

I spent a few hours alone at the high museum. five floors of art from around the world and I spent half the time watching people walk in and out of those frames. up and down, around and around, as if in a trance. 

62//365

once

I took a walk in my old neighborhood in the city. realized everything was completely different yet exactly the same.

61//365

once

I stood at the corner of ponce, spied a bike perched above the power lines that genuinely looked as if it wanted to make a break for it. like it wanted to pedal itself backwards, right up into that wide open sky. thought, me too, buddy. me too.

57//365

once

we showed up at the park for international pillow fight day. expected to find forty, maybe fifty people gathered but instead arrived to find at least a couple hundred. and so we made our way into the middle of that big, beautiful (strangely hopeful) pillowy mess and fought until we were covered with sweat, until we were so exhausted we could no longer dodge the swings, until our stomachs hurt from the laughing.

12//365

once

I stopped to make a photograph of this liquor store because in that moment, it looked exactly like how I felt.

52/365

things I'm doing today:

reading his letter from a birmingham jail
remembering that his life and work were (are) so much more than the quotes we all love to share
thinking about how I can do better, how we can do better

19/365

items considered for purchase tonight at the buford highway farmers market:

a bagful of rambutans
a bagful of tangerines
matcha green tea kit kats
chocolate banana cream pocky
an abnormally large bag of masa harina
an abnormally large jar of nutella
japanese soda in pretty bottles
japanese soda you have to manually add fizz to
properly aged parmesan
a case of topo chico

15/365

things that absolutely delighted me this week:

rosemary living in my kitchen window sill
christmas cookie recipes in my mom's handwriting
the most golden of magic hours on december eleventh 
a fortune from zoltar
a mixtape my brother made me
a mixtape, you understand
a cassette tape, is what I'm telling you
old home movies from my southern illinois childhood in which I sound like a hillbilly
lin-manual miranda on the radio talking about the saddest song
questlove on instagram talking about nancy wilson
ava's painting of this photograph of the two of us
ezra's pencil drawing of the sun
the way my family ate my inexplicably very dry red velvet cake with nary a complaint
the way my husband took such care with me on my birthday
every single time we plugged in the christmas lights
every single time, I tell you
mirrors and lights
lights and mirrors

(yayoi kusama forever)

february's sixty seconds

sixty seconds of moving pictures shot in the city with my people on the greyest of february days, a dead grey, really. but that's february for you. month two of the sixty second photograph and I really struggled this go round. fumbled my way through the process, made a crap load of mistakes. but I'm letting go, folks. make and release, make and release. and hopefully, learn a little something in the process. this is my mantra.

p.s. more about the project here, and more lovely february films over on the site.

p.p.s. music by the incomparable nathan corrona aka dj dust.

light, love

I like to keep a little chalk handy. because, you never know.

may we be the light that drives out darkness in this world, may we be lovers that drive out hate. not just today, on the day we honor the life and work and powerful words of our beloved dr. martin luther king, jr., but every day. every single day.

last and first

on the last day of the old year, we stood on the jackson street bridge, watched the sun go down on the city one last time. 2015, going, going, gone.

and on the first day of the new year, we stood at the base of toccoa falls, just before sunset and we wondered. about this year 2016, this new year everyone is talking about, this new kid in town. we opened our arms to her, we did. because what else could we do? is there any other way?

45 on 45

one week ago today, I turned 45. it's a strange age, 45. strangely weird and wonderful and maybe a little bit painful. for weeks now, I've been thinking about it, about how I wanted to celebrate, how I wanted to mark the occasion. because, it is an occasion. sort of like turning 40 but with a little more wisdom and a pinch more panic.

aging aside, the truth is that december birthdays are hard. the calendar is crammed with more obligations than anyone ever knows what to do with and people are mostly tired and grouchy. there isn't ever any extra money, not really, because what little there is has been squirreled away for christmas and whatever bills are overdue. blah blah blah, it's all very first world woe is me.

but I had sleeves with tricks, I did. and a pocket with a few dollars, a few of my favorite people, a good twelve (maybe thirteen) hours and the whole freaking city of atlanta. and so I decided to see if I could do 45 things on my 45th birthday, 45 actual things. and you know what? it was a pretty good way to celebrate. it didn't cost me very much and I will never, ever forget it. and really, that's all I wanted.

here are 45 things I did the day I turned 45:

1. bought a bag of party horns and a package of confetti on our way into the city.

2. ate a doughnut with raspberry pink frosting and rainbow sprinkles.

3. tossed a little confetti out the window as we flew down dekalb ave.

4. had a cup of tea at dr. bombay's underwater tea party, browsed the one dollar books, left a party horn behind.

5. took a polaroid of a favorite scene.

6. threw a penny in the fountain at fellini's, made a wish.

7. picked a camellia up off the sidewalk, left a pinch of confetti behind.

8. taped a party horn to a favorite book and left it in the little free library in my old neighborhood.

9. did a little indie craft window-shopping.

10. sprinkled confetti on the steps of my very first apartment.

11. flipped through albums at criminal records, bought myself a little birthday vinyl.

12. hopped inside criminal's digital photobooth for a strip, left a party horn behind.

13. drove through momo's rainbow tunnel, jumped out and taped a party horn to it.

14. photographed the year I was born.

15. sat in the sun at lottafrutta and had the lulo, a drink made with a fruit I'd never even heard of before.

16. left a party horn taped to the plastic neck of a pink flamingo, took the little orange paper umbrella as a souvenir.

17. sampled the watermelon soda (tasted like liquid candy necklace). 

18. decided I'd make an okay carmen miranda.

19. chickened out of photographing a most spectacular stranger.

20. hit the swings at the noguchi playground in piedmont park.

21. flew down that rad noguchi slide too.

22. left a little confetti in front of the old black iron gates of the apartment we lived in when we were first married.

23. photographed a few people I love jumping in front of a mural I love.

24. taped a party horn to the big yellow dot on said loved mural.

25. taped a party horn to the little orange dot on a favorite HENSE mural.

26. walked the beltline at magic hour, scattered a little confetti along the way.

27. sprinkled a smidge of confetti in front my favorite tiny red door.

28. tucked a party horn inside the string installment that covers the footbridge over ponce.

29. left a party horn behind on our way into ponce city market.

30. sampled a little hops biscuits and gravy, watched the sun go down over ponce.

31. bought a piece of cherry mash and a packet of cherry pop rocks at the candy shop, let the pop rocks crackle in my mouth as we wandered around outside.

32. tried on a few hats at the hat shop, fell in love with a scarlet cloche.

33. wandered the aisles of the art supply store, bought myself a beautiful new fountain pen.

34. found out what it's like to wander the high museum of art at night.

35. photographed my people in front of the anish kapoor piece.

36. spotted the flashing neon HOT NOW sign at the krispy kreme on ponce, had to stop. it's practically the law.

37. watched hundreds of doughnuts on a conveyor belt pass through heavenly sugary showers of glaze.

38. consumed exactly one hot doughnut, let it melt in my mouth.

39. stopped for french fries and cokes at the beloved majestic diner, tucked a party horn between the salt and pepper shakers.

40. stood on the jackson street bridge and looked out over our fair city, threw a handful of confetti at it.

41. tossed the last of the confetti onto ponce on our way out of the city.

42. listened to my family sing happy birthday.

43. blew out all the candles, made one last wish.

44. devoured a piece of red velvet cake.

45. collapsed onto the big green couch, fully and wholly 45.

atlanta + amsterdam: art

atlanta, left:

a favorite mural of mine by 3ttman in the summerhill neighborhood, courtesy of living walls, a non-profit organization that seeks to change perspectives about public space in communities via street art. thanks to living walls, there are murals everywhere here in the city of atlanta, everywhere. 'tis a thing of beauty.

amsterdam, right:

a favorite street art piece of joyce's on a historical building at the prinsengracht. painted by the london brothers back in 2009, it's been the subject of much controversy, city council wanted it removed but failed. sorry, city council. apparently, the people of amsterdam want their public art just as much as the people of atlanta want theirs.

(more from my co-collaborator over in amsterdam, joyce, aka on a hazy morning//more about our twelve-week project here)

atlanta + amsterdam: cars

atlanta, left:

a little sky blue volkswagen bug I pass on my way to pick ezra up from school. mostly, this is not a town of volkswagen bug lovers. or, small car lovers, for that matter. this is a town of big car lovers, giant car lovers, multiple car lovers. which is probably why the sight of this guy each day makes me so happy. it fills me with hope.

amsterdam, right:

a vintage fiat 500, crazy popular in amsterdam because they're so tiny and easy to park. and cute. oh my goodness, cute, the very definition of cute. go ahead, look it up in the dictionary. under the word 'cute', you will find this car.

(more from my co-collaborator over in amsterdam, joyce, aka on a hazy morning//more about our twelve-week project here)

atlanta + amsterdam: flowers

atlanta, left:

when I see that patch of tall, yellow, spindly sunflowers start to bloom here in georgia, I know. fall is here. fall, season of butterscotch-colored leaves and indian summer afternoons. in-between weather so perfect you wish it would stay forever and ever, amen.

amsterdam, right:

there's not a lot of space in amsterdam. people are packed in there quite nicely, or so I've heard. and so they do what they can to plant colorful flowers in the space that they have. sometimes that means a patch of a little something growing alongside the pavement, where folks often live in what's known as souterrains. souterrains, a perfectly lovely french word meaning 'basement'. leave it to the french to make basement living sound lovely. and leave it to the dutch to make a patch of concrete a beautiful, beautiful thing.

(more from my co-collaborator joyce over at on a hazy morning//more about our twelve-week project here)

atlanta + amsterdam: signs

atlanta, left:

the old clermont hotel: seedy, unyielding. permanently fixed along one of the city's most beloved arteries, ponce de leon avenue. ponce, we call it. I'm certain it was something back in the day, before the drug addicts and the prostitutes got to it. you can almost see people in black felt hats and shiny shoes coming and going. it sits empty now, save for the infamous clermont lounge housed in the back. broken windows like missing teeth, paint chipped and peeling, construction signs on the marquee. the place sits and it waits. for the inevitable boutique hotel makeover. when we were first married back in 1994, we lived in an old apartment building behind the clermont and for six years, we watched the comings and goings, for six years, we collected the stories. the old clermont became a fixture in our lives, too. like that great uncle, you know the one-- mostly sour around the edges but with eyes that twinkle,  sort of, if you look really hard.

amsterdam, right:

a beautiful arrow from the streets of amsterdam, story unknown. which, sometimes, is even better because then you can make up your own.

(more from joyce's point of view over at on a hazy morning//more about our twelve-week collaboration here)

atlanta + amsterdam: bikes

atlanta, left:

we are not known for our bikes here in this town. we are a city that loves our cars. we do not love our traffic, we curse our many highways but we will not give up our cars. and I really wish we would because bikes are nice, bikes are nicer, bikes are nicest.

amsterdam, right:

city of bikes, teeming with bikes, busting at the seams with bikes. in fact, joyce told me there are roughly 900,000 bikes in amsterdam, that there are actually more bikes than inhabitants. well, we do not have 900,000 bikes in atlanta. but I bet we have 900,000 cars.

(more of joyce's perspective over at on a hazy morning//more about our twelve week collaboration here)

atlanta + amsterdam: treats

atlanta, left:

a fried peach pie from the varsity, still warm in the bag, sounds of the streets all around us, north avenue to the right, the big downtown connector off in the distance. the sounds of folks coming and going, swinging those front doors open, bits and pieces of that old varsity chorus wafting out, what'll ya have what'll ya have what'll ya have, a chorus cashiers have surely been singing out since the restaurant first opened back in 1928.

amsterdam, right:

joyce's norwegian cinnamon rolls and can't you almost smell them? because I can. straight from a cozy kitchen in amsterdam, which I imagine be filled with a lovely light,  a clean light, the kind of light I like to think only exists in amsterdam. am I wrong? I do not think I am wrong.

(read more over at on a hazy morning) (and more about our twelve week collaboration here)