Winter Sunshine

Lately I find it hard to wake up. My dreams are dense, deeply felt and vivid — I’ve been doing a little yoga before I sleep at night, just little videos I find on YouTube (LOVE YOU TARA STILES) and doing shoulderstands and plow poses to stretch out my neck and upper back. I haven’t done yoga on the regular since I lived in San Francisco, but working out those knots and kinks is really firing the synapses. They must be firing in my brain something fierce, because I wake up from my dreams feeling like I’ve lived a whole

Like Ghosts, Underwater

Sometimes you see images and they feel like your dreams. There is an instant psychic recognition, like subterranean harmonies coming to surface in your waking life. Something of your nighttime landscape echoes in the daylit world, and the convergence feels like discovering continents within yourself and out in the world. It feels honestly like magic. That’s how I felt the moment I laid eyes on Erin Mulvehill’s photographs. Sadly, I don’t remember where I stumbled across them or how — too many travels on the Internet will blur the routes behind you. But I immediately fell in love with her

Opium, Angels and Carnal Flowers

True confessions time: I think about perfume a lot. It’s something I’m minorly obsessed with. It doesn’t interrupt my life and I’m not cashing in on any insurance policies to get my fix, but I do find myself making detours to malls and department stores to stroll past perfume counters in a happy daze, eyes transfixed by glass bottles as my nose catches strands of delicious scents. I’ll catch a note of something that particularly enchants me — praline, maybe, bluebells, lotus flower, or a particularly rich version of orange blossom — and then wander up and down the aisles

On autumnal beauty

Nature is beautiful all times of the year to me, but I especially love the stark, rich melancholy that is autumn, when light fades early and the branches get bright and vivid, and then spindly and skeletal. Spooky beauty, dusted with sadness that everything fades with the passing of time. There’s this grass garden at my local arboretum that’s especially subtle when it comes to the passing of time. Who knew that bunches of grass planted together could be so lovely? Different hues of green and gold, a mix of textures: feathery, papery, silky. I’ve been stalking this garden all