a day in Manhattan

I have been in NY for the past three months now. I enjoyed taking photographs on my friends Nickon D80. Until one day during fashion week, I was sat on a really tall seat, in Bryant park, with the camera on my lap. I needed the loo. A lady told me where there was a bathroom. I stood up pretty quick and excited. The camera and it's not so cheap lense went crashing to the ground. I cried. Because it wasn't my camera and I couldn't believe I had been so careless with it, after months of being so careful.
These are a selection of the last few photos I took...before it was all over.

The two girls second from last picture, are sisters from Brazil. They have their own fashion label, and were showing at fashion week in the tents. I saw them crossing the street to go to Cafe Habana while I was stood outside waiting to be seated to get some real good corn on the cob...

The guy in the Phoenix shirt was reading news papers he found in the bin. The guy in the orange shirt had just put his news paper in the bin. I do love me some recycling.
The world should share more.

The sisters ( i have to find the card they gave me to check out their line) were telling me they love fashion but hate spending money on clothes. Girls after my own heart. I love shopping picking stuff up, and one by one putting it all back down, because frankly I dont need it. Now I only buy something if I love it. If its really special.

My new rule since being here, is jewellery and lingerie. You cant have too much, and it cant be too expensive. My favourite gifts from me to me.

Cat face

a painting I have been working on...

Jason..

My friend Jason had these photographs of himself at little school, in his house in Chicago. I loved them so much I have 1999 in the front of my wallet. I'm just missing 2000. He had even cooler ones, but these were the only wallet sized one. i like how his swag has changed the older he gets.

The standard

I like this photo. It was on one of the rolls of film I got developed that had been pileing up. One of my favourite things about shooting film is that it is always a huge surprise when you get the pictures back. Especially since I let mine pile up until there are about 19 rolls. I actually have a collection, some of which must be atleast ten years old, I have been finding in various drawers in my bedroom. One thing you will learn about me I am a hoarder. A collector, a complete bag lady. My art teacher, Mrs Hibbard would tell "us never throw anything away, collect it. store it keep it. You never know when you mite need it for something!" Boy did I live by that. Much to my mothers horror.
I still have all of my old school books...from juniour schoo. i actually recently parted with the maths books..and kept just the drawings and creative writing stuff. I have two suitcases (I picked up with my sister at a thrift store in Orange County circa 2004)- underneath my bed. One houses journals. The other photographs. I have written a journal since I remember. And taken photographs since I remember also. I'm one of the few people who has a record of us in school from year seven to eleven.

So a bunch of the film I got developed came out really yellow. I couldn't tell if it was the film or the way it was processed. it actually looks kinda cool. Like Lomo coloursplashish.

As soon as I get home, and I have some pennies to spare. I'm hitting up a photo lab with my bag of ten year old 35mm films. To see what treats/ horrors I have in store. I'm sure there are ex boyfriends and perhaps other things I may never want to see again. but hey it's all part of the beauty of film.

I hate the instantness of digital, and how the second after you take a person's photo they say "can I see it". I upset people often with my little Nickon when they realise they cant.

America : A beautiful Love affair

This was a photo of the wall next to our table in this little cafe in Manhattan. There were photos on the walls of all of the celebrities who had eaten there. It actualy looked kind of grotty but it had so called good honest prices.

I sat in this window, looking out onto the road..and took these photographs. I can remember the apartment, and the size of the window. The little chair with the broken seat part, next to the window. The canvas's ready to be worked on. I remebered the bus to Boston outside. Because I remember noticeing the line of people and wondering where they would be going. But still I couldn't place where the apartment was. I drove by there yesturday, trying to work out which window it was...by the size of them..none of the windows I looked up at looked anywhere near as big as the one I remembered gazing out of, lost in my own thoughts.

I saw the bus to boston again, this time there were no people waiting to get on. This time I saw this view of the street from street level, and I knew I was somewhere close to where that window was.

I looked at an apartment the other week, and the two guys who lived in there (artits), were moving out into a smaller living/working space. I was telling them about this apartment, with the big window, and trying to describe where it was- they knew the woman who owned the building. They said she was a jewish woman, really clever, and that just last week she gave all of the tenants notice to move out. And that now they are all gone. I said I was there..in June.

I loved that apartment.

I am

I am part child, part woman
I am pretty things and ideas
I am nothing, dreaming of everything
I am lazy days and long nights
Little sleep
I am a soft voice, a whisper
I am come closer i'll show you my truth
I am secrets and walls