Tag: daily photo

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For a while now I’ve felt that the pictures I post here are a little too small. Because they’re filled with all these subtle details and meanings and pathos that may just be escaping the viewing public. So I want to up the size. But I am sensitive to the fact that you may not want to have your LJ viewing experience disrupted by my sprawling ego, so I’m posting my first ever poll to allow you to vote on my proposed format revision. So will it be:

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A

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B

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or C

PS: If you want to tell me the reasons behind your vote, I’m all ears.

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In the 30’s here. I look out the window and the trees have made the full transition to bare branches, which means the beginning of the five months of finding images in their interlacing black lines. Yesterday I managed to make black bean soup (figuring out a last minute way of rescuing it from some blandness that I’m especially proud of), go to the gym, and drop off my favorite boots for new soles. It’s a little perverse when you pay $30.00 for a used pair of busted up boots and then $50.00 to get them resoled. They’re just too comfortable to give up on.

Whoa – Just too a closer look outside and it’s snowing. Nothing substantial, but still. I’m glad it held off for the rallies.

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Arriving around 1:30

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Cameras, phones everywhere.

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Two hours in, hippie girls crouch on the floor of Duane Reade’s making their sign.

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Broadway wasn’t closed; people piled up on either side of it.

I’m bushed. Today I did my bit for the leather community and for the queer community, mostly just showing up to help move boxes, lend my body and voice, and promote the organizations I’m part of.

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Today my friend Michelle brought over Lola, Lehigh’s adopted sister for a playdate. After rain cut short our walk in the park, we retired to home for some tug-o-war and what turned into an epic threeway face licking session. Lehigh was, I have to admit, a little possessive: Lola would start in licking my face and then Lehigh would barrel in, and kind of wriggle Lola out of position, even though she’s smaller than Lola. I was forehead-to-chin slobber for a bit. The highlight of the afternoon was Michelle lifting the two of them off the ground simultaneously, each one of them biting opposite ends of a pull toy.

Lola and Michelle have headed back home now, and Lehigh looks a little plaintive on the bed. I’m drying off and planning on joining her.

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Been here about forty minutes already, people are excited and beautiful in their enthusiasm.

Posted via LiveJournal.app.

*Update*: Took me an hour and a half to get up to the front of the line and finally flip the levers on NYC’s “one arm Bandit” machine. Throughout people were eager to vote, but very solicitous towards each other, so for all of the anticipation, there was little or no antipathy. My neighborhood is overwhelmingly Caribbean, and my polling place was Jackie Robinson Middle School, a scant block away from the old Ebbets Field, so people were drawing a lot of connections with the historic nature of the election. I’ve never seen this kind of turnout for any other election I’ve voted in, and I’ve been voting since 1978. It’s also an event distinguished by the sort of generous spirit that I’ve only seen New Yorkers display in crises like blackouts.

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Weekend working. I finished a piece for a show that opens on Wednesday and took it into Manhattan and dropped it off.

And here’s how I know I’m an artist: prety much nothing feels better to me than working on and then finishing this thing. When I got it done, I knew it was good. And deep down it felt right. Better than a workout, better than some kinds of sex, better than a good meal. It’s so easy for me to forget that it’s the most satisfying thing that I can do.

I’ve been around for almost half a century, and noodling around with wires and beads and stuff I picked up on the street six months ago makes me happier than almost anything else I can name. I’m happy that I’ve got a life where I can do that almost as much as I want. I wish that feeling didn’t slip away, because it’s the best rebuke to any and all procrastination.

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He’s, kind of the classic look and only about the size of a softball. Still it’s been years since I carved one. Now he’s sitting in my front window looking out on the street. The kids on our block have given up on our building years ago, so the bell doesn’t ring. That’s ok – I don’t have any candy around anyhow. Now to curl up with some kind of horror movie and toast some seeds.