Brevity is beautiful.
As is limitation, underexpression, and suggestion.
That's why I tumble.
About the only thing I want right now.
“T-Model Train Dreams: Ford’s Gin, cucumber, club soda and Timmy bitters. On ice and full steam for the dream.”
Ritual Coffee’s Columbia on V60, cortado, and croissant at Sweetleaf in LIC.
The good vibes and great coffee were definitely worth the trek out here.
Since coming to the city, I have adopted the classic, very New York tradition of brunch.
Brunch stands for everything indulgent and lazy in the world. It is breakfast transformed and made leisurely, a way to start the weekend right.
Whether you’ve made a reservation at an upscale restaurant with your dad, or are enjoying a mushroom frittata and homemade marmalade on biscuits with a dear friend…
Brunch is always best.
The windows of New York deserve a photo project all their own.
It doesn’t have to be on canvas, it doesn’t have to use oil paint, or acrylic, or watercolor. You don’t have to be commissioned to do it, or even want to do it.
Put on some jeans that can stand up to creativity, and pick up a brush to do some paint-pushing, paint-splashing.
The beginnings of a frittata, an (almost) weekend.
Why skinny love, when you can have succulent love.
