Kate and Photos and Writing and Everything Else

You Never Know

2007-10-24T09:13:00.000-04:00

what you're going to find on the streets of New York.

RE: Photo: Corner of Union Square West and 15th street. Summer, 2006. NYC

Need a Hand?

2007-10-23T09:08:00.001-04:00

I think I do.

RE: Photo: Rodin Museum, Paris. December, 2005.

This is what I feel like today.

2007-10-20T20:06:00.001-04:00

It could be because I made chicken soup from scratch today and there was something missing. Or it's something else.

Just This

2007-10-02T07:24:00.001-04:00

Just a picture for you today. There are too many words buzzing around my head for me to but any in proper order. I'm thinking about doing NaNoWriMo. Anyone try that yet?

Wired and Tangled

2007-09-24T10:41:00.000-04:00

Things I am thinking about today, especially those things that annoy me (and some that don't).

1. Wires. Why does my wireless keyboard have wires? Why does the UBS hub I bought take up both of my original USB hubs? Why are things so stupid?

2. Doing work I don't want to do that actually pays, which in turn takes away from the work I want do to that will pay down the line. Isn't this the National Freelancers' Motto or something?

3. Not getting anything done on the weekends. Blurgh.

4. At least it's nice outside.

5. M-E-T-S LET'S GO METS!

6. Laundry.

7. People don't stew and mull over things for long periods of time. If they want something, they let you know. If they don't, silence is your answer. This applies to so many areas of my life--from both ends. It's unfortunate, but it's true.

8. The Simpson's new credits last night with all the references to the movie (which I saw twice) was AWESOME. It's gotta be on YouTube. Go check it out.

2007-09-18T20:50:00.001-04:00

Gah! I haven't posted in a week. I have a good excuse: I had to travel to work. Yeah, they didn't have the internet where I was. Umm. Really. There's no internet in Denver, didn't you know?
So, since anyone who was checking this with any regularity is probably gone, I can talk about anything without worry. Right?
As I think I said, I feel like I'm pretty late to the internet-as-community party. Never was much for the message boards. But now I'm finding myself commenting on some of my friends' blogs and stuff and sometimes my friends answer back. And I'm finding that I check for those replies OBSESSIVELY. I'm a frequent blog checker anyway (yeah, yeah RSS feeds, I know. But they take all the fun out of it), but the lure of seeing if anyone saw my funny rejoinder in the comments is irresistible. Dude. I really need to stop. I have frickin' work to do.
But it all goes back to that whole "Is there anybody in there?" feeling the internet gives me. Can't you hear the hollow knocking on your monitor? That's me. I know there are thousands of people out there that I know and could know, but don't know about yet. It's overwhelming knowing there's so much out there. The vastness gives me this weird kind of claustrophobia, the same feeling I get swimming in the deep end of a pool. There are too many angles of attack, too many places to watch. Still, I venture out, trying to make connections. More hollow knocking.
Don't think I've lost the irony that I'm talking about this on a blog. No, I got that part, too. If you know what I should do about it, speak up.

Two Chairs, No Waiting

2007-09-13T08:00:00.001-04:00

C'mon in. Sit down. Rest a spell. You can hang out in my quiet corner of the internet while I'm away for a few days. Can you water the plants? Help yourself to anything in the fridge.

Re: Photo: Houston and Lafayette. Manhattan, June, 2007.

Choas and Clutter

2007-09-11T21:36:00.001-04:00

I think I like to clutter my life with a thousand different things so I can have the satisfaction of uncluttering them and getting things done in a way that's still done, but may not be the way I'd have done 'em if I only had one thing (or two, let's be honest) to do. Because I can always say, "I had SO much to do that day." Do you do this too? Is this one of those things that everyone does but doesn't talk about?

I think I know why I do this, but I don't want to say it out loud. Everyone does that, too, right?

Sunrise, Sunset

2007-09-10T07:51:00.001-04:00

What are we going to do when summer's really over? How do we do this every year?

I'm ready for the light coats and leaves of fall; I await that eagerly. But I'm not ready for layers and gloves and cold faces. Snow. Not being outside as much. I get a little stir crazy in the winter, just hungry for sky. In the summer, I feel guilty when I'm not outside on a nice day. I actually like heat and humidity, so my idea of a nice day in the summer is slightly different than the average joanne. I'm just not ready for a New York winter again.

It makes me finally realize the lure of being a snow bird. Having lived in Florida, but not South Florida, I've only had limited exposure to those who follow the sun. As you might have noticed, I'm resistant to change, so the thought of having two homes and two sets of stuff and two ideas of home seems 1. wasteful and 2. a big pain in the ass. Ok, so maybe a house on the beach would be nice, but I wouldn't want to pack up and live there for a while. What about missing all your friends and the guy at the deli and dealing with your magazine subscriptions? Not for me.

But not dealing with the impending snow? That might be nice.

What's that you say? Leave New York City? Not a chance.

Re: Photo: Broadway, downtown Manhattan. June, 2007.

Subtlety is Hard to Spell

2007-09-07T14:12:00.001-04:00

I've been drinking a lot of seltzer lately. Just plain seltzer, maybe a little lemon. I used to hate it, when I didn't know the difference between it and tonic water, which is gross, but water with bubbles didn't appeal to me back then. I was a dedicated Coke drinker. Where I come from it is completely acceptable to have Coke (or a coke, i.e. a soda of any variety) in the morning instead of coffee. I fully support this practice. Really, what's the difference? Sugar+caffeine=awake.

Maybe I just need a lift from the bubbles in my seltzer.

Tonight I'm going to the International Center of Photography to see the Stephen Shore Exhibit before it hits the road (ha ha). There's something so quiet and calming about his photography that at once sooths and surprises me. There's the one on the ICP website with the full billboard of a mountain scene right where you'd expect the real mountains to be. It blows my mind how powerful subtlety can be. I want to be like that in everything I do, every minute of the day, but I don't have the patience or reserve.

The photo also reminds me of some lyrics to a John Mayer song which I refuse to be ashamed I like. Actually, I refuse to be ashamed that I like John Mayer a lot. A lot a lot.

But subtly, of course.

Re: Photo: Union Square Greenmarket, June, 2007.

What are you looking at?

2007-09-05T07:38:00.001-04:00

Whenever I come back from the South, where I consider my self "from," I have to remember to get back into New York Mode. There's the walking faster, remembering there are subways instead of cars, stairs and crossing streets, and being so close to a million people without looking at them. I have to remember to let my Southern accent fade, which feels so good to use when I'm down there, like sweet, round grapes in my mouth. I like my Southern accent. If my friends didn't piss and moan every time it crept back in I'd taulk like that awl the tiiime.

Lately, the nerve endings have been a little closer to the skin and I've found this easier to welcome back. Watch where you're going. Walk faster. Have your Metrocard out. Don't stand so close to me. Yesterday on my evening walk, I almost got run down by a cyclist riding on the sidewalk on State Street. Was I wearing my iPod? Yes, though I still heard him coming. I didn't look up until he'd already hopped off to stop, inches from my shins. I looked him in the eye and he returned my annoyed scoff with a "Yeah, I'm sorry. Whatever." I wanted to say"Don't ride on the sidewalk, jackass." and he wanted to say "You and your damn iPods." We were ready to spar. And I would have said something, too, if he'd hit me. I would have screamed and dropped my bag on the sidewalk and berated him for irresponsible bike riding, in front of a police station no less. Said he's the reason NYDOT doesn't take bikes seriously in the City and why so many people get run over by garbage trucks on Houston Street. Maybe an officer would have come out of the station, jangling his cuffs. The cyclist would have held up his palms and told me off, too, but I wouldn't have heard him from my screaming and gesticulating.

Yeah, that's what New York feels like right now. Maybe it's because we're all tired of the heat and ready for Fall. Maybe it's just me. Maybe cyclists are really dicks. Maybe I need to move back down South.

Re: Photo: Near the Armory on 15th St. Park Slope, Brooklyn. September, 2007.

Feels Like the First Time

2007-09-03T21:01:00.001-04:00

In my industry, August is a little on the slow side. Everyone's boss is in the Hamptons and everyone else (hopefully) gets caught up. Whether or not that happens, September feels like going back to school. No more early quittin' time on Friday. No more long lunches. Back to real work.

I loved going back to school. New notebooks and shoes and seeing everyone you forgot about over the summer. Where I grew up, back to school meant a good bit more of summer weather, even though I wore those new sweaters and jeans the first week anyway. That's what you do to new clothes, temperature be damned.

But I have to say, as I've gotten older, and school became work, the lure of new notebooks (which I still buy) has lost its luster. Of course it has. Work does not equal school. Sometimes it's a whole lot better. Sometimes I'd rather be in English Lit.

My sister sent me a box of odds and ends once, and included therein was the above action figure--a duplicate in her son's collection. I used to run screaming from the room when the Incredible Hulk came on TV, much to my sister and brother's amusement. I don't even remember why, but he scared the crap out of me. But he's on my desk now, a little plastic reminder of the stuff I'm not afraid of anymore. Cheesy, I know. But sometimes things like that work. I might need it right now.

Re: Photo. Sometime in 2007 in Brooklyn.

Snuffle, vacation, whine

2007-08-27T15:09:00.001-04:00

Every year in college, without fail, for four years, I got a horrific upper respiratory infection the week before Spring finals. This was also two weeks before Crew Nationals--I was on the rowing team--so that meant we were studying and rowing twice a day and stressing the fuck out over everything. My body's response was to shut down, produce a lot of fluids in my lungs, and make it so I couldn't swallow for at least five days. Fun! The third time it happened I went to the infirmary early to catch it before it got too bad and some rookie insaneo n00b doctor squeezed my throat so hard that I cried out and made him leave the room and get me a real doctor. He said I didn't need drugs, that I just had a cold. The real doctor took one look at my chart, didn't even touch me, and started writing the script for whatever antibiotic I wasn't allergic to then. She saw what I'd had for the last two years and took my word for it. Not that I was looking for superfluous drugs--who gets high off of penicillin??--but she knew that I knew what the heck was going on in my own body.
The point? I'm getting sick. My throat hurts. I'm achy. AND I REFUSE TO BE SICK THIS WEEK because I'm going on a mini vacation at the end of the week that involves one of my best friends, trashy magazines, southern barbecue, and swimming pools. I will be at that swimming pool, as god as my witness.
So I'm medicating heavily with Ginger Ale. I fully believe in its medicinal properties. Whether or not Canada Dry actually contains any real ginger in it, I care not. But when I'm sick, I want Ginger Ale. And Saltines. And ice cream. And the Price is Right, but will settle for Buffy season two, which my co-worker lent me. Except I can't lounge on the couch because I have work to do.
Moral of this story: Don't get sick as an adult. You have to go out and get your own Ginger Ale AND still go back to work.
Sigh.

Re: Photo: State St., Brooklyn, June 2007.

Grace Paley: "All my habits are bad."

2007-08-23T13:01:00.001-04:00

Boy howdy. I'm extremely listless today. NOTHING is getting done. And when you have 50 billion jobs (my choice, sorta, so yes, I know) and things you actually want to do (other than those jobs), being listless doesn't help in the getting of things done. All I end up doing is checking and rechecking the blogs I read to see if something inspiring will spur me into action. Pictures of celebrities and steampunk watches are not going to inspire me to read manuscripts, so it's an exercise in futility. Big surprise.

With this whole internet thing, lately, I've figured out why so many people comment on blogs and read livejournals and were part of all those message boards and such like the Bronze for Buffy fans. I don't read comments on blogs because so much of it is "OMG THat's the Cutestestest puppy i ever seen") (Yes, I read those sites.) And there's not really any comment in their comments, to paraphrase Joan Cusack. I'll read every word you comment here, of course, but still. What I figured out, ten years later than everyone else with a computer on the planet, was this whole reaching out into blank space for a connection thing. OH, now I see. People talk to me and then I can talk to them? Over the interwebs? And we don't know each other yet? And we might like ALL of the same stuff? OMGBBQWTF!

Yeah, I know. Sometimes things just take a while to rise to the surface of my brain. It's in there, but I haven't really heard myself yet. Like recently, I discovered running. As far as I'm concerned it's just me and Phidippides out there trying not to get run over by the aging peloton in Prospect Park. It, like, works. It makes you feel good and lose weight. This is freaking AWESOME. Why didn't anyone tell me sooner?

Where was I? Oh yeah, the listlessness. See how it goes? I try to start something and then I'm pulled down a hundred different paths. I know I'm not the only one who does this, of course. I'm not saying I'm anything special because of it. I just figured it out, you know, today. So I had to tell you. And show you this door to nowhere. Because that's where I'm headed this afternoon.

Re: Photo. Dumbo, Brooklyn. Spring, 2007

Juggling

2007-08-21T22:09:00.001-04:00

I am going back down South soon to visit two dear friends from college who just had their first baby. This is the first baby had by my college friends, and even if this couple is a few (not enough) years older than me and live in the South where you're a freak if you haven't had kids by 28, this is skewing my world view. NOT because I think I need to be having babies post haste, as one would assume, but because I can't imagine having the brain and hands and life I have now with a baby in it. And it's not just a matter of "oh, if I just stopped drinking and got serious" kind of thing. It's "oh, I guess I should look both ways before I cross the street." The funny thing is--I was the omggottogetmarriedandhavebabiesbeforeit'stoolate! girl in college. I had it all wrapped up. And then it unraveled and I survived and I went to Grad school and moved to New York and never looked back. I can't believe I actually don't *want* to get married anytime soon now. It's like switching religions.

Sometimes I worry that I'm on the wrong track with this thinking--that I was attentive to it when I shouldn't have been and now that I've stopped caring (no, really, I have), it's going to pass me by. Then I think that the less I think about it, the more likely it's going to sneak up and surprise me. Which would be awesome because then I wouldn't spend weeks/months/years worrying about it. Of course, I'm worrying about not worrying about it, so there you go.

So what's a girl to do? Play football. Have as many jobs as my brain will hold. Start blogs. And novels. See where they all land. If I drop one, at least it's not a baby.

Re: the photo. Graffiti in Dumbo, Brooklyn. June, 2007

So I Decided to Add Another Thing to My Plate

2007-08-20T22:29:00.000-04:00

My father has a series of black and white photos he took outside Cross Creek, FL sometime long before I was born. They're the only things I'll fight my sister and brother for when that time comes, a long time from now. One of them is almost completely black except for a keyhole shaped glimpse into the bright world. I imagine my dad younger and in cowboy boots (because I have a picture his best friend in high school took of him in a cowboy hat leaning over the hood of a car, the smoke from his cigarette in a stringy cloud hanging in the air) standing on the inside of an abandoned house in rural Florida, taking the picture through a large, old keyhole. I was amazed he could get it all in such sharp focus-- you can see the sunlight and grass and a bit of the horizon.

But he told me just a few years ago that it isn't a keyhole at all. He'd crawled into a concrete drainage culvert and taken the picture from deep within. The shank of the keyhole is the reflection of the light on few inches of water running out of the pipe. Instead of being close and immediate, the focus of the picture is distant and pushed away. I could make all these analogies about life and perspective and my father, but I won't. When I look at the picture now, I see both. And I think of two mes looking at the picture at the same time, seeing two different images. I'm glad I don't care which one is the right one.

I can't do anything with my hands--I can't drawn, sculpt, paint or anything like that. Photography is the only thing I feel like I get, impulsively and without stressing over it too much. I don't know if I'm any good, but I've stopped worrying about that. I'm just working on the doing part now.

And so. Another thing to do and think about(mostly) every day. This is going to be fun.

Re: The Photo. Trash/Art on State St., Brooklyn. June 2007.