choking on food and the panic in my mother’s face. bagels and lifesavers, mostly.
“One sign of achieving enlightenment other than auras, tinkling bells, and a healing touch, is that you start valuing idle daydreaming as much as you value planning.
Another is that you begin talking sweetly not only to plants and trees, but to cars and toasters and computers.
And, quite unequivocally, feeling gratitude for your present challenges, love for lousy drivers, and sympathy for those who don’t see service in their work.
-The Universe.”
red wine and pink floyd. things are getting swirly, man.
The midday sun gleams through the windows and fills the maternity ward at Saint Barnabas Hospital in Livingston, New Jersey. Casting grey shadows onto illuminated white surfaces, the sunlight is just one element of obvious contrast to be seen. All that separates new life from the matured is a cool glass partition, marked with four dewy halos of breath from the open mouths of family members. Few things are more hypnotizing and beautiful than peering into a room filled with newborn babies.
Rows of clear plastic pods present the infants; each tilted forward slightly like delicate gems on velvet stands in a storefront window display. Pink and blue blankets cocoon the babies and are the only indication of gender among these unisex faces. The overhead lighting casts an icy hue that gives the impression that the room is cold, but rouged lips and flushed skin prove otherwise.
The babies’ overall appearance is foreign and new. They seem alien, with their bizarre, jerky movements and constant jittering. Small hands with widespread fingers wave aimlessly through the air, grasping at nothing in particular. Cloudy grey-blue eyes seem to be fixated on something far off, as if having the ability to see through the walls and connect with the unknown.
A sheath of fine, luminous hair sweeps over foreheads and ears, giving a velvety appearance to these features. Soft, unmarked skin peaks out from the blankets; rose colored and puffy, especially around the eyes. Tiny mouths open and close at random revealing smooth pink gums, uninterrupted by teeth. The sight of something so pure and feeble manages to overpower all sense of sound, deafening the noises of the reception desk and nearby elevator mechanics.
How many other people have looked through this pane of glass, completely entranced by something so premature? Even the disheartened can’t help but become charmed by these dewy-eyed bundles of life. As visiting hours come to a close, any evidence of a clear answer is erased as fingerprints are wiped clean from the glass.
I was doing some reading for a class and came upon this, with regards to excessiveness and mass-production. I liked it so i’m sharing it here:
‘…he saw the ugliness which surrounded him as the unavoidable result of the miserable conditions for the majority brought by the Industrial Revolution. He took issue with the Victorian fashion for cramming as much as possible into a room to symbolize the owners’ wealth and status, writing in The Seven Lamps of Architecture:’ ”…but I would not have that useless expense on unnoticed fineries or formalities; cornicing of ceilings and graining of doors. and fringing of curtains, and thousands such; things which have become falsely and pathetically habitual - things on whose common appliance hang whole trades, to which there never yet belonged the blessing of giving on ray of real pleasure, or becoming of the remotest or most contemptible use - things which cause half the expense of life, and destroy more than half its comfort, manliness, respectability, freshness, and facility.
I know what it is to live in a cottage with a deal floor and roof, and a hearth of mica slate; and i know it to be in many respects healthier and happier than living between a Turkey carpet and gilded ceiling, beside a steel grate and polished fender.”
-John Ruskin
John was against the idea of mass-produced furniture & decor and influenced an entire generation of writers and designers, most notably - the founder of the arts and crafts movement. Go John! (users of Etsy may also want to thank him…)
I always thought making new years resolutions was dumb. But really, how can making goals for yourself be dumb? It turns “dumb” when you set expectations and fail. You fail. As in, me.
And well, i am no failure. Here’s what won’t turn dumb:
I bought a notebook to keep track of my expenses. I chose a red Moleskine because red looks urgent and Moleskine feels grown-up. I’ve color-coded (i’m a virgo) by regular bills, leisure, school, restaurants and gifts.
I just finished my January expenses thus-far…and now i know why i never kept track of my expenses.
Here’s to reality checks and tea cups with sexy red lipstick stains.
Despite being pressed up against dozens of people, the subway may be the loneliest part of manhattan.
Avoiding eye contact, iPods running, book reading, women clutching their purses when a bum comes by with a hopeful open hand.
I feel very sad on the subways.
