scatter joy!

Play Me, I’m Yours. 60 pianos on NYC streets for anyone...

Mon, 21 Jun 2010 14:05:00 -0400

60 pianos on NYC streets for anyone & everyone to play. I LOVE this.

About a month ago, I met Camille Zamora, co-founder of Sing for Hope, a non-profit that mobilizes professional artists in volunteer services to benefit schools, hospitals, and communities. When she told me about this project to bring pianos to the streets, my jaw literally dropped. Just the thought of 60 beautiful pianos sitting on street corners & sidewalks, open for anyone to sit down & play, was enough to send my head spinning. I could already see the little kids playing chopsticks, the groups of strangers harmonizing on a quiet street corner, the seriously suited Wall Streeters breaking out in song & dance on the way to work.

Conceived by British artist Luke Jerram, this project has toured the globe since the spring of 2008 and will be simultaneously launched in London this summer. These 60 pianos will sit on NYC streets until July 5th, after which they will be donated to schools and communities in need.

Also, I just found out that each piano comes with a songbook for inspiration and a buddy (click here to be a piano buddy!) to take good care of it.

And yes, you can bet your bottom dollar that I will sit a piano bench & crank out a little Chopin by the end of the day.

{photo via vanity fair}

a little beach boys to kick off the first official day of...

Mon, 21 Jun 2010 10:00:00 -0400

a little beach boys to kick off the first official day of summer. this is one of my favorite put-you-in-a-good-mood songs. it’s so fun & upbeat, and I think there’s a real sweetness to it.

also, watching this makes me want to go find a polka-dotted vintage bikini to wear this summer. and possibly a surfboard, accompanied by an adorably sun-burnt surfer dude who can teach me how to catch a wave. yes?

just spent 24 hours here. whirlwind. and wonderful. {photo by...

Wed, 02 Jun 2010 14:04:00 -0400

just spent 24 hours here. whirlwind. and wonderful.

{photo by me!}

sunshine. sun-kissed. {via justbesplendid} photo credit...

Tue, 25 May 2010 10:57:28 -0400

sunshine. sun-kissed.

{via justbesplendid}

photo credit unknown

so green.

Sun, 23 May 2010 11:19:00 -0400

this is one of my favorite times of year. late may, early june. late spring, early summer. everything looks so bright & vibrant & green.

photo credit unknown.

Sun, 23 May 2010 11:13:00 -0400

photo credit unknown.

pretty light. photo by iexisthere {via...

Sun, 23 May 2010 11:11:30 -0400

pretty light.

photo by iexisthere

{via thegirlcalledlaura} p.s. I’m a girl called Laura, too! :)

love catcher. photo by bianca {via alotlikelove &...

Sat, 22 May 2010 10:55:00 -0400

love catcher.

photo by bianca

{via alotlikelove & wasting}

sweet sweet tere.

Tue, 18 May 2010 10:37:00 -0400

this is a long overdue thank you to miss tere, who is kind and generous. who sent me two of her lovely prints that now adorn my wall. who helped me fix a website, just out of the goodness of her heart. thank you, tere, for reminding me of the kindness of strangers & the joy of new friends.

I’m addicted to the Hipstamatic. It’s an app for...

Wed, 28 Apr 2010 11:22:00 -0400

central park.

love me tag.

I’m addicted to the Hipstamatic. It’s an app for the iPhone where you can play with different types of lenses, flashes & films to mimic the look of vintage photograph.

There were so many cute pics, but alas, I can’t post them all, because my sisters & my mom & everyone else who I photographed are shy about this whole being on the blog thing. But this app is so much fun! I can’t stop taking pictures with it. It literally makes everything look pretty & artsy & unpredictably beautiful.

Have you guys tried it?

hope. it floats. {photo by life through the lens (simple...

Mon, 26 Apr 2010 12:27:54 -0400

hope. it floats.

{photo by life through the lens (simple effulgence)}

{via inspirationally}

hope this sunday night is all that you want it to be. Beth...

Sun, 18 Apr 2010 18:20:00 -0400

hope this sunday night is all that you want it to be.

Beth Rowley- “A Sunday Kind of Love” {via pinkhotel}

p.s. I like the Ella version, too.

photo by ameliealice.

Thu, 01 Apr 2010 12:18:48 -0400

photo by ameliealice.

{print by theloveshop, via cup of jo. photo by ameliealice.}

Thu, 01 Apr 2010 12:17:00 -0400

{print by theloveshop, via cup of jo. photo by ameliealice.}

reason #534 why I haven't been blogging lately.

Tue, 30 Mar 2010 21:29:00 -0400

I’ve been spending time with this man.

This man who tells stories.

Who never gives up or gives in.

Who dispenses wisdom with grace. Gentle with his genius & sharp with his wit.

Who makes me believe that I can do anything, be anything, be everything.

I was sitting on a park bench the other day, brimming with bright & sparkling & scattered thoughts, giddy with premature spring fever. It was that first day of warmth & sunshine that makes me feel like I’m literally falling in love with the whole world. The kind of day that is full of pure possibility. I was sitting on a park bench, trying desperately to find the words to describe the feeling, the oh-my-goodness-thank-you-God-for-this-world-this-life-this-overflowing-gratitude kind of feeling. I sat & scribbled & sketched the usual mumbo-jumbo of imprecise adjectives and vague verbs, my flailing attempt at transcribing image into words, translating feeling into prose. And amid this desperate digging for the perfect phrase, this little line found its way out.

I’m full of poems tonight.

And then it hit me. That’s why I write. Or at least why I like to write. That’s why I love words. These carefully curated collections of words. He writes, and I write. And I write because he writes. Because I used to sit by his typewriter with my 10-yr-old eyes glued to the page and watch his fingers dance across the boxy letters, click by click, as he pounded out the latest edition of a poem. I’d watch as he visited and re-visited these lines he composed, until the perfect rhythm & rhyme found its way onto the page. I’d park myself on the seat next to him with those bright red glasses that covered half of my face, hands tentatively on the table, watching & waiting, until he finally let me write some words of my own. And sometimes instead of writing my own, I’d just type some of his words. I guess I’ve always been more captivated by interpreting the words of others than by creating my own.

I dedicated my first book to him. I was in 6th grade, and we did a unit on poetry. We had to make our own book of poems, and mine was called Lyrical Lines. Not bad for a little 11-year-old, huh? I was way into alliteration back then. (Still am.) I just thought it was the most brilliant idea. To look at what words do, beyond their pure meaning. To think about how they work together, how they look & sound. It opened up a whole new way of thinking for me.

And so, the very first page of this book was a blank, white piece of paper with a tiny red glitter heart—little & fat & slightly asymmetrical—and under it, the words:

to my grandfather, who is a poet himself.

It’s funny how I fancied myself a poet back then. It was as if gathering the pages and laminating a homemade book cover with clear Contact paper was enough. It was enough to make me a real poet. It’s funny how easily I would call myself a poet, an actress, a singer, so many things, and now I run away from those words. Those words that have so many expectations attached to them. The expectation that you’ll actually be good at it, that you’ll reach some standard set by someone outside yourself. Poet. Artist. Lawyer. Writer. Singer. Teacher. I am all of these, but none of these. I’d rather stick to other words. Sister, Daughter, Friend. Student, always.

I’ve always had “write a book” on my list of things to do. Not because I’ve ever felt like I’ve had anything earth-shattering to say. It’s actually the opposite. I love words. I marvel at them. But sometimes I just don’t know what to do with their immense power. (Well, maybe it’s not an inherent power, but the power that we collectively ascribe to them.) Either way, sometimes I get stuck, unsure of how to wield this power. Or maybe it’s because deep down I know that some things—sometimes the things that matter most—can’t be captured in word or song or image. Some things exist only in your mind & in your heart, in the expression on your face & the way you move your mouth. And the minute you try to record them marks the minute they cease to exist in that purest, truest of forms.

Despite this writer’s block of sorts, I’ve always wanted to write a book for the sole purpose of writing a dedication. It’s the same reason why I’ve always wanted to win an Oscar or a Tony or an Emmy. To give that thank you speech and tell my mom how much I love her. To create a labor of love and dedicate it to the ones I love.

I’ve started writing poems and plays and prose about my grandfather. I’ve taken photographs and made films. I’ve created birthday cards and silly/serious little scrapbooks. And I still can’t describe the way I feel when I’m sitting right next to him. So I’ve come to this conclusion: he simply defies description. That feeling I get, that feeling of being right next to him, whether on a hospital bed or his musty old armchair, that feeling pretty much defies all attempts at description.

hi there.

Fri, 26 Mar 2010 13:52:00 -0400

it’s been a while. I really didn’t mean to step off the grid for so long. but I’m still here. and I’m glad you’re here. and I’ll be back soon, I promise. xoxo

a snowy day with my sister S & her best friend forever. we...

Sun, 28 Feb 2010 19:12:00 -0500

a snowy day with my sister S & her best friend forever. we were walking by Central Park and just couldn’t resist the snow.

can you find the hidden message I wrote?

{hint: it’s a line from a poem by one of my favorite poets.}

baby giraffe & her momma. 5 days old. {via kari-shma,...

Thu, 11 Feb 2010 18:42:29 -0500

baby giraffe & her momma. 5 days old.

{via kari-shma, Telegraph}

abbracciami

Tue, 09 Feb 2010 23:59:00 -0500

it’s one of my favorite Italian words. it’s just so fun to say. abbracciami. abbracciami. hey, you, abbracciami. its colloquial translation is “hug me.” but the verb abbracciare comes from the word braccio (meaning “arm”), so literally, it means “wrap your arms around me.” doesn’t that just describe the feeling so perfectly?

photo credit: unknown {via justbesplendid}

Mon, 08 Feb 2010 22:40:43 -0500

photo credit: unknown

{via justbesplendid}