la lune

Sunday, February 7, 2016




In the dark, listen to Chopin's Nocturnes, 
extend limbs, longer and leaner, relevé high enough that the pain 
dissipates from your toes. 

Thoughts of black ribbon & pearl studs & rain's pearls. Thoughts of filling a small notebook with tracing paper and 

collected words about the moon. 


"My shadow said to me: 
what is the matter
Isn’t the moon warm 
enough for you
why do you need
the blanket of another body?

— Margaret Atwood, “The Shadow Voice”



And at midnight, turn towards la lune. 
It's full tonight. 




Velveteen dancing

Sunday, January 17, 2016




hits of sunshine 
(for allen ginsberg) 

today i - said goodbye - to my conflicted goddess - her lush eyes show surprise - at how we could gather knowledge - the painting has a dream - where shadow breaks the scene - and the colors run off - blue is bashful - green is my goal - yellow girls are running backwards - until the nextime- with six hits of sun-shine - the lights will blind us - with blues in haiku - the shadow has a dream - where paint-ers look to sea - the colors burn out - now i know where - i once saw you - stepping into muddy water - john's reflection - de-cried perfection - now you walk him - through the garden - wait-ing in the wings - painters shade their dreams - with falling colors - see me wave good - bye for-ever - happiness the - goddess lover - hurry back - re-member last time - the hits of sunshine - the hits of goldmine - i'll see you back tonite - where painters love the light - and yellow shadow girls - 


today i - say goodbye - to my complicious goddess - her hushed eyes - show surprise - at how we captured knowledge - i'll see you back tonite - where shadows dream of light - + slip on outside 




–––––––––––––


this week: 
rainy, rainy, rainy
i love it. 

Found sun-streaked energy & rebellious youth in alabama wildman by thurston moore (sonic x smith is the best bit in the book) and in the Turkish film, "Mustang" by director Deniz Gamze Ergüven, soft sunlight on long summer hair and young skin, cruel, hopeful, lovely. After, we walked out into the dark night, pouring rain reality. 

Jules et Jim

Saturday, December 26, 2015

Post French final, 
which was essentially a forty-minute frenzy in attempt to finish the exam early, splashing through wavy city lights reflected in dirty rain puddles on the street, caught the Nutcracker downtown... later, mom's vintage cartier, dad's vintage lennons, YSL in le orange, and finally a chance to read the Modern Film script of Jules et Jim from Book/ shop.  


Rapid dissolve to the three friends going down a flight of steps leading to a footbridge across the railway lines. 

Voice off:  Catherine was very pleased with the success of her disguise. Jules and Jim were moved, as if by a symbol which they did not understand. 
         Catherine sits down at the bottom of the flight of steps and looks at the sky. Jim looks at her and then looks up with her. 

Jim:  Ou bien je rêve, ou alors il pleut. Either I'm dreaming, or it's starting to rain. 

Catherine and Jules: C’ est peut-être les deux. Perhaps it's both. 

Catherine: If it's raining, then let's go off to the seaside. 
She gets up and looks at them. We leave tomorrow. 






Hazel English

Sunday, December 13, 2015


Hazel English
Brick & Mortar, San Francisco.  
11. 3. 2015.  film 



Jill Sander, the Ads

Sunday, December 6, 2015


Just never gets old... 

1.  S/S '96 by Craig McDean
2.  S/S '98 Angela Lindvall by David Sims
3.  A/W '97/98 David Sims and Marc Ascoli 

I've been keeping a growing pile of 90's Jill Sander Ads for a long time now, always the perfect reference when I need a jolt of inspiration. Other things to help defog the mind during these winter months: 


Visited Pier 24 last week for Paul Graham's "A shimmer of Possibility", and other works. A beautiful exhibit, I'd love to get another look at the room with his purple dusk-hued gas station photos, colors as vibrant as an Eggleston, one of his inspirations. Also a recent visit to the neighborhood library to pick up the film version of "Unbearable Lightness of Being", and "Leon" to celebrate the end of finals! Already planning the outfits we'll dress up in (black ribbon choker but no wig... yet) when we watch "Leon". At the library, never mind a serious time crunch, my overly inquisitive feet led me towards the books, and my eyes to a variety of gems I couldn't leave behind, among them Cy Twombly, Charles Dickens, Susan Sontag, and J.P Donleavy. 

Looking forward to Tuesday, taking a small trip to Big Sur with an old group of friends, which should be brutally cold and beautiful. Later in the week, a holiday pop-up for Book/Shop, a little reunion with friends from Paris, a night show at SF symphony, and a cookie swap party. Oh, december, you cozy, sparkly thing. 





Oui , vous tous.

Wednesday, December 2, 2015


Le Mépris, 1963


You like all of me? My mouth? My eyes? My nose? And my ears?

Yes, all of you. 

Then you love me... totally?

Yes. Totally... tenderly... tragically. 


Confession: wove in and out of the plot with this one, lost in the stunning visuals of the Italian coast and the vixen that is Brigitte Bardot. Wicked winged liner, a French iron bed frame to die for, the luxury of reading novels in a bathtub, an endless stairway to ascend into an endless blue, and to run away from tortured souls. Every girl should own a Vivre sa Vie-esque black 60's wig, which she wears to meet strangers and do the most mundane of chores in. 

p.s Though I've never spent a sun-drenched afternoon soaking in a bathtub, novel in one hand, cigarette in other, if Anne Fadiman's husband in Ex Libris (a collection of essays on the art and joy of reading and book-lovers) reads in a sauna, "where heat-fissioned pages drop like petals in a storm", I can only imagine the sadly dampened state of a long novel read in the haze of a luke-warm, sleepy bathtub...  


december catharsis

Sunday, November 29, 2015





On the last day of a long, long weekend...

After wasting away the morning hours online, with back-pain inducing posture and dry eyeballs (the internet isn't kind to contact lens-wearers) ogling at all the new Dieppa Restrepos on sale but still utterly unattainable, decided enough was enough, and went on a hike through the Presidio terrains with the family. It was clear today, sharp, crisp, cold, beautiful. And it was the first time in months that I found the ocean under my feet. How this absence happens as a Californian, I don't know. The hike wasn't great for the cold I caught over the holiday (it was the soy sauce I shared with the sick boy next to me Friday night, the sushi was good, I forgive you), but rather for the spirit, and I took a bundle of polaroids along the way that I decided to call "December catharsis", if that is any indicator of November being a medley of incredible highs, like TOPS, and new friends, and Tame Impala on vinyl, and unforgettable karaoke car rides (such a good month for music) but also intensely lonely moments even in the company of others, and the tragic reality that this world can be a cruel, sad place. Luckily, I have a friend who more or less shares my mind, but is somehow always at the opposite end of the emotion-spectrum, and after sending a sleuth of depressing texts, she gave me a simple reminder: at day's end, it's our job to find, and never stop believing that there exists some beauty in this world. 



Homme, IV

Monday, November 23, 2015


1. Erik van Gils by Markus Pritzi
2. Dior Homme SS/16



crooked ankles and shadows that slice
bare skin. 

beautiful, no?


My past 48 hours: An outdoor screening of Band of Outsiders, where we finally learned & performed for each other the Madison (heads were turned, our moves were legit!) Today, spent all afternoon in the Haight, conversations about Dostoyevsky and girls from high school getting engaged, over rosemary infused hot chocolate in the moonlight. Yes to romantic November dates with your best friends. Amoeba never disappoints. Brushed up on a little Dire Straits music history in the land of 20 dollar vinyls- we'll be returning sooner than later, with a few more dollars in the pocket and some sewn up holes. 



Dusk

Tuesday, November 17, 2015



I took that train into the city
You know the one that goes under the bridge
I thought I was listening
To the band that played the song that changed me.  

A moment of pure aesthetic pleasure earlier, listening to Mazzy Star on the train ride home. Tuning out blurry faces after a somewhat sad late-afternoon in the city with those dreamy guitar trills.

Whatever makes your heart beat faster

Sunday, November 8, 2015


When in doubt, alone in your bedroom, round up a few photos of your dream girls, close your eyes and drive down a highway, blasting "Song for Zoe & Gwen" and "Catastrophe" by Yumi Zouma, re-paint your nails a deep plum, and practice posing like Didion, one hand casually strung in pocket, glasses in the other, nonchalant...  



"Life changes fast. Life changes in the instant. You sit down to dinner and life as you know it ends." 
  -Joan Didion









1. Kate Moss by Ryan Mcginley, 2007
2. Joan Didion by Eugene Richards, 2005
3. Phoebe Philo for The Gentlewoman  
4. Romy Schneider circa 1970's

 

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