Wednesday, December 31, 2008

a pretty picture to end the year...

having made it through my first term of law school, i'm thoroughly enjoying some down time...catching up with family, friends, and lots and lots of pretty things.




laura matthews'
dead calm is exactly what i need to round out my year. just beautiful.

Friday, December 12, 2008

i am SUCH a sucker


for projects like these. little snippets of people's lives - what they do, how they think - just completely enthrall me. one of my favorites of the people featured in the project is this fellow. hear more about how peter feldstein conceived of the idea...

love it.


heseltine's sculptures are absolutely lovely. see more of his work here.

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

gastrointestinal issues...





















it is impressive to me that for the last two days, the two days before my first real law school exam, my stomach is convinced that it is in india, having just digested about 5 thalis of street food.

impressive, yes. amusing, no.

Thursday, November 27, 2008

some good thoughts...

in light of all the awful happenings in india, and that today is thanksgiving, here is a video that i'm appreciating right now.



the video is actually for this book on wisdom by andrew zuckerman.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

my heart is heavy

and i feel rather ill. india is such a big part of who i am, i feel like i just got the wind knocked out of me. big time.
i was uh, right here, six months ago.


at least 100 people have been killed and over 200 injured. such incredibly sad news.

photo from
times of india. story over at the nyt.

thankful for the small things

with one class down and three (and a half? does business count??) to go before the semester ends, i'm a smidge stressed.

but you know what? i have food. and many people don't.



it would cost the world $3 billion dollars year to make sure that every child in the world has food.
sounds like a lot until you realize that wall street bonuses to ceos were about $36 billion dollars (according to letterman. i had no idea.)

a little bit goes a long, long way. check it out here.

Friday, November 21, 2008

tell me something good

a reminder of what's really important. by andre jordan.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

these photos

warm my soul.
these beautiful photos (of her sweet husband and sweet pooches i assume) are from the author of the beautiful la porte rouge. the light, the man's face with his dogs, the glimpses of their interactions, the ocean... all just beautiful.

Sunday, November 16, 2008

this is

ingenious really. i think the musical accompaniment is a nice touch.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

all i want to be...

a mini rebellion against my torts/memo work, perhaps??? a great print by clifton burt

Monday, November 10, 2008

Fishing on the Susquehanna in July

by Billy Collins

I have never been fishing on the Susquehanna
or on any river for that matter
to be perfectly honest.

Not in July or any month
have I had the pleasure--if it is a pleasure--
of fishing on the Susquehanna.

I am more likely to be found
in a quiet room like this one--
a painting of a woman on the wall,

a bowl of tangerines on the table--
trying to manufacture the sensation
of fishing on the Susquehanna.

There is little doubt
that others have been fishing
on the Susquehanna,

rowing upstream in a wooden boat,
sliding the oars under the water
then raising them to drip in the light.

But the nearest I have ever come to
fishing on the Susquehanna
was one afternoon in a museum in Philadelphia

when I balanced a little egg of time
in front of a painting
in which that river curled around a bend

under a blue cloud-ruffled sky,
dense trees along the banks,
and a fellow with a red bandanna

sitting in a small, green
flat-bottom boat
holding the thin whip of a pole.

That is something I am unlikely
ever to do, I remember
saying to myself and the person next to me.

Then I blinked and moved on
to other American scenes
of haystacks, water whitening over rocks,

even one of a brown hare
who seemed so wired with alertness
I imagined him springing right out of the frame.

Sunday, November 9, 2008

some eye candy

to ease the pain of all this contracts reading..."amsterdam" by matte stephens

Saturday, November 8, 2008

i love it every time.

when peeing, ruby simultaneously squats and lifts up one leg. how wonderful is that?

Friday, November 7, 2008

not fun anymore.

i have had the hiccups for 22 minutes now. and counting.

if philadelphia

doesn't have something like this, i think i may just have to start one up.
portland's annual wordstock festival is approaching. a day to celebrate books and authors and readers. with workshops, readings, food, writing competitions, and a "text ball."
i am in love with this idea and need to do some research to see if philly has something like it.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

smart stuff


just found out about change.gov, a website documenting the transition of the obama administration into power. i'm impressed, not only by the speed with which it was put up, but (more importantly) by its invitation to the public to become involved. Link

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

what i'm appreciating today

- 5 found pennies
- a smoochable pooch
- i wasn't called on in contracts
- my dryer lint screen is fixed. i can now dry my clothes in the dryer instead of draping
them over all of my furniture (a la my house in india)
- evening meditation

and last, but certainly not least
- obama. and all those who worked so hard for him to get where he is today. all those who share his enormously important beliefs.

i feel proud to be an american today.

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

not to get all mushy

but boy do i love this.

david sedaris

on undecided voters:

"i look at these people and can't quite believe that they exist. are they professional actors? i wonder. or are they simply laymen who want a lot of attention? to put them in perspective, i think of being on an airplane. the flight attendant comes down the aisle with her food cart and, eventually, parks it beside my seat. 'can i interest you in the chicken' she asks. 'or would you prefer the platter of shit with broken bits of glass in it?' to be undecided in this election is to pause for a moment and then ask how the chicken is cooked."

uhhh, yup. yup i agree with you there.

today.

in case you needed a reminder.

Monday, November 3, 2008

tomorrow.

all day i have had a knot in my stomach.
i am nervous.

totally unrelated, i had an awful day.

totally unrelated to that, but i love it, so i'll post it:

Sunday, November 2, 2008

3 days...

and i'm loving this:

Saturday, November 1, 2008

4 days to go



and i am just plain nervous.

Friday, October 31, 2008

halloween!

halloween is by far my favorite holiday. what is there not to like about dressing up and getting sweets? people costumes are great. but dog costumes are really where it's at. these are my top picks so far...

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

we need to

unite the country back together...

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Sunday, October 26, 2008

Friday, October 24, 2008

holy shit.

this just hits wayyyyyyyyyyy too close to home. in multiple ways.
____________________________________________________________________

video report

Man sought in rape and attacks
Friday October 24, 2008


Police said yesterday they were searching for the man who raped a woman in her home and who might also have assaulted three other women in Center City and South Philadelphia in the last week.

"We don't know that all of these cases are absolutely linked . . . but what we have is an emerging pattern," said Capt. John Darby of Special Victims. The victims have provided similar descriptions of their knife-wielding attacker.

The latest attack happened about 11 p.m. Wednesday near Pennsylvania Hospital. A man hiding in a hallway of a five-story apartment building in the 900 block of Clinton Street forced a woman, 25, and her boyfriend, 29, into her apartment, bound and gagged them, terrorized them for nearly two hours, and raped the woman. He also robbed them.

About the same time of night on Tuesday, a 22-year-old woman was followed into her apartment building in the 1100 block of Lombard Street by a masked man with a knife. He fled when she screamed, alerting neighbors.

The two other incidents were knifepoint muggings in South Philadelphia: about 7 p.m. Wednesday in the 1300 block of South Clarion Street; and about 7:45 p.m. Saturday in the 700 block of South 12th Street. The victims were young women who had been walking alone.

The attacker in each case was described as about 30, with a medium-brown complexion, about 6 feet to 6 feet, 2 inches tall with a medium build.

Anyone with information is asked to call police at 215-685-3251 or 215-686-8477 (TIPS).

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

whadaya know

seems that few are immune to the pleasures of a trampoline.



in my opinion, the last bit is the best.

Saturday, October 18, 2008

girl

just saw this. how wholeheartedly i believe it...
especially after last year.

i'm loving...

elizabeth peyton. why oh why are there not more wonderful portraits out there?

i especially love this one, of georgia o'keefe, circa 1917.

Monday, October 13, 2008

up for debate...

whether ruby would agree to this

photo found here.

Sunday, October 12, 2008

How to See Deer

by Philip Booth

Forget roadside crossings.
Go nowhere with guns.
Go elsewhere your own way,

lonely and wanting. Or
stay and be early:
next to deep woods

inhabit old orchards.
All clearings promise.
Sunrise is good,

and fog before sun.
Expect nothing always;
find your luck slowly.

Wait out the windfall.
Take your good time
to learn to read ferns;

make like a turtle:
downhill toward slow water.
Instructed by heron,

drink the pure silence.
Be compassed by wind.
If you quiver like aspen

trust your quick nature:
let your ear teach you
which way to listen.

You've come to assume
protective color; now
colors reform to

new shapes in your eye.
You've learned by now
to wait without waiting;

as if it were dusk
look into light falling:
in deep relief

things even out. Be
careless of nothing. See
what you see.

Thursday, October 9, 2008

i know...

i've posted on her before. but i just cannot ignore the shit that is going down these days. it is INSANE. not to mention INANE.

this on the other hand, is just disgustingly accurate. found here.

some fun news!

those who've known me for a while know i have pretty crummy luck in the myriad of contests i LOVE to enter. my older sister on the other hand - wonderful luck. i still remember an eagles jersey that she won when she was about 13 and i was 9. i didn't really want the jersey, but i desperately wanted to win the contest. today however, my luck has changed for the better (hopefully.) i had entered a contest a little while ago over at the wonderful blog - shelterrific and found at today that i won! wooohoooo. click on over to see my winning entry here and check out the rest of their fantastic home ideas.

Sunday, September 28, 2008

sundays...

are tough. when i'm in school, i always feel that i could (read: should) be doing work. there is always more work to be done. that's what is so sucky about being in school. to make it worse, i'm under the weather, with a sore throat and an annoying cough and a runny nose. it isn't pretty.

luckily though, my evening was a good one. i had a yummy dinner with someone i just adore. and a mini-tutorial on the mandelbrot set - something, in all seriousness, i think i really needed. it certainly helps give a bit of perspective on things. and then i came home and gave my sweet dumpling of a dog a little bath in the kitchen sink.

and now, back to work.


ruby, working very hard to keep me company. as i work.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

sometimes...

a girl needs a little pick-me-up. because classes are overwhelming. or a particular professor is particularly poopy (and makes her feel about two inches tall.) or she's feeling rather lonely. or she can't figure out why her oven won't cooperate. or the potential next president and crazy-pick-sidekick scare her like no other. or she just hasn't smiled in a while. sometimes it's a combination of all the above.

times like these call for some serious assistance. it helps to turn to the Experts of All Things Good and True.














yep. that helps.
i found all these wonderful photos on flickr. they truly make me happy.

Friday, September 12, 2008

one more

post on palin and then i'm going to have to stop or else i will become physically ill.

matt damon on palin


just got this in the mail. i'm going to use this little sucker (voter registration card, if it's not clear,) for all it's worth.

Thursday, September 4, 2008

a follow up

on the horrendous picture below.

an excerpt from the wonderful article in today's LA Times
by Gloria Steinem

"This isn't the first time a boss has picked an unqualified woman just because she agrees with him and opposes everything most other women want and need. Feminism has never been about getting a job for one woman. It's about making life more fair for women everywhere. It's not about a piece of the existing pie; there are too many of us for that. It's about baking a new pie.

Selecting Sarah Palin, who was touted all summer by Rush Limbaugh, is no way to attract most women, including die-hard Clinton supporters. Palin shares nothing but a chromosome with Clinton. Her down-home, divisive and deceptive speech did nothing to cosmeticize a Republican convention that has more than twice as many male delegates as female, a presidential candidate who is owned and operated by the right wing and a platform that opposes pretty much everything Clinton's candidacy stood for -- and that Barack Obama's still does. To vote in protest for McCain/Palin would be like saying, "Somebody stole my shoes, so I'll amputate my legs."

Palin ... opposes just about every issue that women support by a majority or plurality. She believes that creationism should be taught in public schools but disbelieves global warming; she opposes gun control but supports government control of women's wombs; she opposes stem cell research but approves "abstinence-only" programs, which increase unwanted births, sexually transmitted diseases and abortions; she tried to use taxpayers' millions for a state program to shoot wolves from the air but didn't spend enough money to fix a state school system with the lowest high-school graduation rate in the nation; she runs with a candidate who opposes the Fair Pay Act but supports $500 million in subsidies for a natural gas pipeline across Alaska; she supports drilling in the Arctic National Wildlife Reserve, though even McCain has opted for the lesser evil of offshore drilling. She is Phyllis Schlafly, only younger.

I don't doubt her sincerity. As a lifetime member of the National Rifle Assn., she doesn't just support killing animals from helicopters, she does it herself. She doesn't just talk about increasing the use of fossil fuels but puts a coal-burning power plant in her own small town. She doesn't just echo McCain's pledge to criminalize abortion by overturning Roe vs. Wade, she says that if one of her daughters were impregnated by rape or incest, she should bear the child. She not only opposes reproductive freedom as a human right but implies that it dictates abortion, without saying that it also protects the right to have a child."

Saturday, August 30, 2008

this about sums it up


found this inspiring, enlightening picture through this (truly) wonderful blog

Friday, August 29, 2008

love for diebenkorn


i've noticed that during my long, sometimes dry, often confusing readings, i like to take occasional little breaks . usually during these breaks i like to look at something pretty. like this.

Sunday, August 24, 2008

a little reminder

of what's good out there.

it's been way too long since i've written anything. what with school starting and settling into my new apartment and getting to know my new neighborhood, i'm a little overwhelmed.

things like this article though, just make me feel good.

thanks to my wonderful sister for sending it my way.

Friday, July 25, 2008

a sweet piece

for the sweetest, most generous member of our family.
toby taught comfort and loyalty and diplomacy and sweetness. and so much more.
------------------------------------
This dog's life
By Anne Lamott

Nov 7, 2003 | In the magical documentary "Rivers and Tides," about the artist and naturalist Andy Goldsworthy, there is a scene where Goldsworthy outlines black holes in the ground with bright leaves, wreaths of red and yellow and green. Over time, green shoots grow out of the holes, when the leaves have blown away. I think of this scene whenever I confront loss, because I have to believe that green shoots will grow from even the deepest black hole, either in a wreath, so that we might see it better -- in poems, or paintings -- or in plainsong, like when our dog died last year.

Having a good dog is the closest some of us are ever going to come to knowing the direct love of a mother, or God, so it's no wonder it knocked the stuffing out of me and Sam when Sadie died. I promised Sam we'd get another puppy someday, but secretly decided not to ever get another dog. I didn't want to hurt that much again, if I could possibly avoid it. And I didn't want my child's heart and life to break like that again. But you don't always get what you want; you get what you get. This is a real problem for me. You want to protect your child from pain, and what you get instead is life, and grace, and while theologians insist that grace is freely given, the truth is that you sometimes pay through the nose. And you can't pay your child's way.

We should never have gotten a dog to begin with -- they all die. I know this sounds sort of negative, and bitter, but it happens to be true. That's why it's so subversive that Goldsworthy makes art that will pass away in the fullness of time, or later that same day, like his giant prismatic rings made of icicles. He builds them outside on the cold ground, positioned to frame the sun in the sky as its light shines through. Of course, the sun is also the reason the ice rings melt so soon, but if he built them of iron, there'd be no halo, no prism.

When Sam was 2, and George Herbert Walker Sushi-Barfing Bush was president, and it seemed that the first Gulf War would assure his reelection, I couldn't help noticing I was depressed and afraid a lot of the time, like I am now. I decided that I either needed to move, to marry an armed man, or to find a violent but well-behaved dog. I was determined, as I am now, to stay and fight, and the men I tended to love were not remotely well enough to carry guns, so I was stuck with the dog idea.

For awhile I called people who were advertising dogs in the local paper. Everyone said they had perfect dogs, but perfect for whom? Quentin Tarantino? One dog we auditioned belonged to a woman who said her dog adored children, but it actually lunged at Sam, snarling. Other dogs snapped at us. One ran to hide, peeing as she ran. So I took the initiative and ran an ad for a mellow, low-energy guard dog, and the next day we got a call from a woman who said she had just the dog.

As it turned out, she did have a great dog, a gorgeous 2-year-old named Sadie, half black lab, and half golden retriever. She looked like a black Irish setter. I always told people she was like Jesus in a black fur coat, or Audrey Hepburn in Blackglama, elegant and loving and silly; such a lady.

She was very shy at first. Our vet said she must have been abused as a puppy, because she was so worried about not pleasing us. He taught us how to get on the floor with her and barrel into her slowly, so that she would see that you meant her no harm -- that you were in fact playing with her. She tried to look nonplussed, but you could see she was alarmed. But she was so eager to please that she learned to play, if politely.

She lived with us for 10 years, saw us through great joy and great losses. She consoled us through friends' illnesses, the death of Sam's grandparents. She and I walked Sam to school every day. She was mother, dad, psych nurse. She helped me survive my boyfriends and the metallic, percussive loneliness in between. She helped Sam survive his first mean girlfriend. She'd let my mother stroke her head forever. She taught comfort.

But when she and Sam were about to turn 13, she developed lymphoma. She had lymph nodes in her neck the size of golf balls. Our vet said she would live a month if we didn't treat her. Part of me wanted to let her die, so we could get it over with, have the pain behind us. But Sam and I talked it over, and decided to get her half a dose of chemo: We wanted her to have one more great spring. She was better two days later. She must have had a great capacity for healing: She went in and out of remission for two and a half years, 10 seasons. Toward the end, when she got sick again and probably wasn't going to get well, our vet said he would walk us through her death. He said that even when beings are extremely sick, 95 percent of them is still healthy and well -- it's just that the 5 percent feels so shitty -- and that we should focus on the parts that were well, that brought her pleasure like walks, smelling things, and us.

Our vet does not like to put animals to sleep unless they are suffering, and Sadie did not seem to be in pain. He said that one day she would go under the bed and not come out, and when she did, he would give us sedatives to help her stay calm. One day, she crawled under the bed, just like he said she would.

It was such a cool, dark cave under my bed, with a big soft moss green carpet. Her breathing was labored. She looked apologetic.

I called our vet, and asked if I should bring her in. He said she'd feel safer dying at home, alone, with me, but I had to come in to pick up the narcotics. He gave me three syringes full. I took them under the bed with me, along with the telephone, with the ringer off, and I lay beside her and assured her that she was a good dog even though she could no longer take care of us. I prayed for her to die quickly and without pain, for her sake, but mostly because I wanted her to die before Sam got home from school. I didn't want him to see her dead body. She hung on. I gave her morphine, prayed, talked to her softly, and called our vet. He had me put the phone beside her head, and listened for a moment.

"She's really not in distress," he assured me. "This is hard work, like labor. And she has you, Jesus and narcotics. We should all be so lucky."

I stayed beside her on the carpet under the bed, and then she raised her head to look around like a black horse, and she sighed, and then lay her head down and died.

I couldn't believe it, that she was gone, even though she'd been sick for so long. But you could feel that something huge, a tide, had washed in, and washed out again.

I cried and cried, and called my brother and sister-in law. Jamie said Stevo wasn't home, but she would leave him a note and come right over. I prayed again, for my brother to get there before Sam came home from school, so he could take Sadie's body away, to spare Sam, to spare me from Sam's loss.

I kept looking at the clock. School would be out in half an hour.

Jamie and their dog Sasha arrived 17 minutes after Sadie died. I had pulled the carpet out from under the bed. Sadie looked as beautiful as ever. Jamie and I sat on the floor nearby. Sasha is a small white dog with tea-colored stains, and she has a bright dancing quality -- we call her the Czechoslovakian circus terrier, perky ears and tender eyes -- and we couldn't resist her charm. She licked us, and ran up to Sadie, licking her, too, on her face. Then she ran, back to us, as if she was saying, "I am life, and I am here! And my ears are up at this hilarious angle!"

Stevo finally arrived, but it was only a few minutes before Sam would get home from school. I wanted Steve to hurry and get Sadie into the car, but it was too horrible to think of Sam catching him, sneaking Sadie out like a burglar stealing our TV. So I breathed miserably, and I prayed to be up to the task. Stevo sat beside his wife. Then Sam arrived home, and found us. He cried out sharply, and sat on my bed alone, above Sadie, alone. His eyes were red, but after a while, Sasha made him laugh. She kept running over to Sadie, the dead exquisitely boneless mountain of majestic glossy black dog in repose on the rug. Then she leapt on the bed to kiss Sam, before tending to the rest of us, like she was a doctor, making her rounds.

Then things got wild: My librarian friend Neshama arrived. I had called her with the news. She sat down beside me. Then a friend of Sam's stopped by, and his father came in too, and slipped behind Sam on the bed like a shadow. Then the doorbell rang, and it was another friend of Sam's, just stopping by, out of the blue, if you believe in out of the blue, which I don't; and then a kid who lives up the hill stopped by to borrow Sam's bike. He stayed, too. It was like the stateroom scene in "Night at the Opera." There were five adults, three kids, one white Czechoslovakian circus terrier and one large dead black dog.

But one of the Immutable Laws of Being Human is that whoever shows up is the right person, or the right people, and boy, were these the right people. Sadie looked like an island of dog, and we looked like flotsam that had formed a ring around her. Andy Goldsworthy would have had a field day with us, the range of ages and materials, the wit and hard work and unruly elements -- life, death, dogs -- something in us trying to hold something together that doesn't hold together, but then does, miraculously, for the time being.

Sometimes we were self-consciously quiet, as if we were all in kindergarten on the floor, and we should stretch out and nap, but the teacher had gone out, and so we waited.

Finally, the three boys went downstairs, and turned on loud rock 'n' roll. The grown-ups stayed awhile longer. I got a bag of chocolates from the kitchen, and we ate them, as if raising glasses in a toast. As Sadie got deader and emptier, we could see that it was no longer Sadie in there. She wasn't going to move or change, except to get worse, and start smelling. So Stevo carried her on the rolled-up carpet, out to my van. It was so clumsy, and so sweet, this big ungainly car-size package, Sadie's barge, and sarcophagus.

We could hear the phantom sounds of Sadie for days -- the nails on wood, the tail, the panting. Sam was alternately distant and clingy and mean, because I am the primary person he both bangs on, and banks on. I stayed close enough so he could push me away. Sadie slowly floated off.

Then, out of the so-called blue again, six months later, some friends gave us a 5-month-old puppy named Lily. She is huge, sweet and well-behaved -- mostly. She's not a stunning bathing beauty like Sadie was; in fact, she looks quite a lot like Walter Matthau. But she's lovely and loving and we adore her. It still hurts sometimes, to have lost Sadie, though. She was like the floating garlands Goldsworthy makes, yellow and red and still-green leaves, connected to each other with thorns, floating away in the current. I remember how they swirled, and floated back in toward the shore, got cornered in eddies, and floated free again. You know all along that they will disperse once they're out of your vision, but they will never be gone entirely, because we saw them. They illustrate the way water is like the wind, because the leaves are doing what streamers do. So the garlands are a kind of translation of this material; autumn leaves, transposed to water, still flutter.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

now this?


this is pretty great.

check out yeondoo jung's other work in wonderland, a series of photographs that bring children's drawings to life, here.

Monday, July 14, 2008

things i'm missing about sf even before i go back to visit

in no particular order:

1. the defenestration building. i feel happy just knowing it's there.

2. the laidbackness. i call/email the supremely generous people who are taking care of all my prized possessions to tell them i'm back from being away for over a year and ask when i can come over. each and every one? they all tell me whenever works for me.

3. the food. first rate food from pretty much all over the world. vegetarian places that knock my socks off. indian spots that rival delhi. vietnamese restaurants that make me smile. chinese, thai, mongolian, east african, the list goes on...

4. the thriftstores. this is a thrifstore lover's paradise, people, no lie. i had DREAMS about my local goodwill while i was sweating it up in gujarat.

5. the nature. parks, mountains, oceans. hiking and biking trails galore. balmy weather almost always. people who appreciate the greenness of things, and take full advantage of it.

6. the music, bars, and cafes, along with quirky shops and hidden hole-in-the-walls that round out the city so perfectly.

a bit too hipsterish at times, and rather pricey for my taste, but boy does sf have a lot to love.