Monday, October 29, 2012

before, during, after.

before, after.
before, after.
before, after.
before, after.

last weekend.

be well.
xo,
tt

Sunday, October 28, 2012

hi from sunday night.

hi from sunday night.
hi from sunday night.
hi from sunday night.
hi from sunday night.

i don't even know how to begin.  that's always been my trouble.  i suppose i've been greedy to write since i was so young i don't remember the before.

( i could go so many directions from here.  i'm pausing.  thinking.  you'll know the end result about the same time i do.)

i was encouraged, but i was scared.  perhaps the encouragement hinged on the end result rather than the doing, and the searching that needed to fuel the doing, and so i always viewed writing as just another way in which i wasn't going to be good enough.

::

our windows are so dark now and i'm genuinely scared that there may be danger ahead.  we are ready for and surely even relishing the gathering in and holding close.

tomorrow we will all be here.  and so differently from a snowday where we shovel and play and eat and drink so much more sugar and honey than we normally would,
we will be hearing and feeling every creaking branch and snapping limb as if they were our own bones.

or maybe it will all blow over.

either way.  we'll be here.
xo,
tt

Thursday, October 25, 2012

polar bears for obama.

Untitled
Untitled
Untitled
Untitled

black and white film from late summer.

hi.
xo,
tt

Sunday, October 21, 2012

hi from sunday night.

sunday.
sunday.
sunday.
sunday.

takeaways from a long drive through the woods::

the leaves aren't done yet, but there's very little bittersweet this year.
don't miss a chance to move the furniture aside and dance.
always pack a car picnic, even if you hope to stop for french fries and beer.
sometimes the bravest thing is to look someone in the eyes and just say it.
when squatting in the woods, it's nearly impossible not to pee on your boots.
the word twig is perfect.
maybe that's all i want, to listen to his stories.  maybe tell him mine.
when you get a little lost, pull the car over and enjoy where you are for a while.
home is pretty fabulous.
write things down while you can still remember them.

best wishes for the week ahead.
xo,
tt

Friday, October 19, 2012

friday happiness::

Untitled
Untitled
tt
Untitled

b & w film from a friday night past.
looking forward to this well deserved one.

best wishes to you!
xo,
tt

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

i just don't think there's a shred of chance that we all won't end up living our lives out together.



tuesday.
last night.
tuesday.

i can't imagine ever not wanting to see their faces, often.

::

last night at our house it ended up just the three of us for dinner, and somehow tim and i convinced her that fish is delicious.

best wishes.
xo,
tt

Monday, October 15, 2012

three-quarters-full.

. fuji 3/4
. fuji 3/4
. fuji 3/4
. fuji 3/4
. fuji 3/4
. fuji 3/4
. fuji 3/4

undecided about the other quarter.

xo,
tt

Sunday, October 14, 2012

hi from sunday night: these photos are slightly absurd. (but i love them.)

bkln 10.14.12
bkln 10.14.12
bkln 10.14.12
bkln 10.14.12
bkln 10.14.12
bkln 10.14.12
bkln 10.14.12
brooklyn sunday.

brooklyn sunday visit with grandma liz.

more soon.  i seem to be on a roll.

xo,
tt

Saturday, October 13, 2012

(a) sunday dinner.


sundaydinner4
sundaydinner3
sundaydinner1
sundaydinner2

i've got a lot of catching up to do here.
rolls of film to scan.  polas in piles on shelf after shelf.
these here?  they're digital, from a sunday dinner several weeks ago.

i love so much having my family come to our house.  sunday dinner seems the perfect time to settle down at the table and see what's what.  my parents, my nieces and nephews, my girls with their cousins.

my favorite part about these photos is the contrast between hands and hair and faces.  all ages have a seat at our table.

more soon.  just trying to stay afloat.

xo,
tt

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Untitled
my mother's royal.
Untitled
miss a.
t. again.
Feeling grounded and connected. Is it something we strive for? Is it something we have? For the past few years I've wanted to build a house that's made out of concrete, stone, or brick - and designed in a way to last 500 or even 1,000 years. Even if the interior rotted away, the structure would still be there (and could be rebuilt). But why? My life expectancy is somewhere around 70-80 years, and I've already experienced 46 of those.  In that reality, a mobile home would probably work fine...but this post isn't about my dwelling, but rather about why we look for permanence, continuity, groundedness. Not sure why, but we keep doing it - I suppose that in itself is the grounded and connected element that moves us forward.  (I've got other ideas too, alternate ideas - but for now this makes sense.)

(words by tim.)