Italy minus eight

Memories from an adventure long ago. Eight years feels like an entire lifetime. ...walking the streets of Napoli... trains, boats, sunburn, churches...  tall glasses of cool white wine, the crisp late summer market of Bolzano... Where does the time go? Where does it go? It's gone.

Ferrara certosa

One of my fondest school memories was doing rubbings of gravestones in the cemetery of the small white church across the street from my elementary school. I've always loved cemeteries.

This series was from 2006 when I lived in the small northern Italian city of Ferrara. I would often ride my bike to the large cemetery on the north side of the city, my camera tucked away in the basket on the front of my bike. This place was really special; I look forward to go back someday.

I have many more photos from this series. I've never done anything with these pictures other than let them take up memory on my hard drive. It's time to let them out of my computer.

Chelsea on a cold February Monday

Today was a frigid Presidents' Day Monday. So what better way to spend it than in a lovely, indoor garden for brunch at The Park in Chelsea?

The ambiance is warm and inviting, with birds chirping in the trees overhead. 

Just watch out for the bird poop!

Apple crisp for dessert with vanilla ice cream? Yes, please.

After lunch, we went to the High Line for an afternoon stroll in the sun. It was my first time going, but definitely not the last. The baby slept snugly in the carrier on my chest while we walked, occasionally opening his eyes to look up at the buildings and the people. I can't wait to go back this spring and summer.

Stay warm out there.

The good life

Today I splurged. I wasn't exactly planning to drop a chunk of change when I went out, thinking we'd just grab a nice Sunday afternoon coffee. But then I made the mistake of going into a shop I've been eyeing for a while.

And then I saw this:

I couldn't resist. I was useless against the sumptuous hand-crafted black leather bag. Gorgeous. I'm not a bag person, but this was something special. It's by BILLYKIRK (www.billykirk.com).

I love my neighborhood: the shops, the restaurants, the Sunday morning farmers' market. The old Italian immigrant neighborhood where you still hear the southern dialect spoken in the corner store, the grocery, the bakery.

But there's also the new contingency in the neighborhood: the stylish singles and couples,the ex-Manhattanites, the baby-makers. I'm in that group (but not the Manhattan part). Maybe I feel a little cliché sometimes, but I had no idea the neighborhood was going through a boom when I moved in, drawn by the quaint charm and its proximity to my job less than a mile away.

Who knew that four years later I'd be walking down Court or Smith with a baby of my own?

Today I feel so Brooklyn. Or rather, very Carroll Gardens/ Cobble Hill-esque. I headed out early into the brisk February morning, the cold wind biting my skin as I made my way up Smith Street to the green market to dump my week's worth of saved kitchen scraps for the compost collection. Then off to an intense hour and a half of Vinyasa yoga. Awesome.

Call it cliché, but this is the good life.

In five billion years, our sun will expand and engulf our orbit as the charred ember that was once earth vaporizes.

 Quote by Neil deGrasse Tyson, one of the greatest minds in science today.

Why do we fear death?

Why do we fear change?

Is it fear of the unknown?
Fear of pain, discomfort, suffering?
Is it the fear of what lies beyond?



I'm afraid to fly and I know why; it's not the potential end, but rather the fall. The moment you realize there's something wrong until.... I try not to think about that too much at 35,000 feet.

It's an uncomfortable conflict with my love of travel. They take turns for who wins. It's been a while since I've taken a trip. 

  

In my neighborhood, there are four funeral homes within about a dozen blocks of each other. It may be macabre, but I find them beautiful: