Sunday, June 25, 2006

the week ends the week begins



There is a revolution at revolution books on Friday.
Or maybe just a little protest between friends.
This is right by the school, a reminder that
New Yorkers give a crap.




Carri arrives. We are standing in the same space under the
departures marquee, a universe away by cell phone. Here I am!



We dine with a view on Friday - and then Saturday on to
the pressing issue of shopping. We're on a mission, and it
involves some unusual possibilities.



Did I just get caught playing with a gong?
Heavy steel sewing scissors that could slice bone.
$1.25



Carri looks for the perfect silver plated cat.
The raised paw is a blessing. The strange pen
shaped like a carp down to the lifeless eyes is a necessity.
There are birdcages for mechanical birds, nonsense, and soap from france, or China.
Saffron beauty everywhere, and fluttering, colorful things.





IT'S RAINING IN SOHO.



It's raining in soho. Hard. We search for bijoux.
We find bijoux, and a surly shopkeeper that will not
allow photographs. Out on a limb for my blog, I say
"why not?" "because these are OUR things." he says, and looks away.
Are they not about to be mine? I buy a necklace and he looks embarrassed.

I contemplate the REAL spy, who could buy one of
everything and copy it without the benefit of this
fuzzy photograph.




We went into the women-owned adult toy store called "babeland"
right after the bijoux, but I was too mesmerized to snap photos.
Who were the lucky ass architects that did THIS interior?

  • BABELAND/soho




  • Yeah, you try not smiling after a store like that.
    Chocolate seems like a FABULOUS idea.



    I give thanks for the chocolate I am
    about to receive. It's a stop at Vosges, and
    my favorites are the hot pepper and dark chocolate
    truffles called "red fire" - accompanied by a similarly
    flavored spicy hot chocolate drink.

    It's a nearly religious experience.





    GRACE CHURCH



    No, we're not here to repent for what we just saw and ate.



    But it's impossible not to be contemplative
    in a setting like this.



    I heard there was a secret chord
    That David played and it pleased the Lord
    But you don't really care for music, do you?
    It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth, the minor fall, the major lift,
    the baffled king composing Hallelujah

    Hallelujah

    Your faith was strong but you needed proof,
    you saw her bathing on the roof, her beauty
    in the moonlight overthrew you
    She tied you to a kitchen chair, she broke your throne, she cut your hair,
    and from your lips she drew the Hallelujah

    Maybe I have been here before, I know this room;
    I have walked this floor, I used to live alone before I knew you
    I've seen your flag on the marble arch, love is not a victory march,
    it's a cold and its a broken Hallelujah

    There was a time you let me know whats really going on below,
    but now you never show it to me, do you? (and)
    Remember when I moved in you; the holy dark was moving too,
    and every breath we drew was Hallelujah

    Maybe there's a God above, and all I ever learned from love
    was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
    And its not a cry you can hear at night, its not somebody
    who's seen the light, its a cold and its a broken Hallelujah

    Hallelujah

    [leonard cohen] sorry leonard.

    Thank you for the silence Grace Church.
    I'm listening, closely.


    THE FARMER'S MARKET AT UNION SQUARE









    Bluegrass.... can't seem to get away from the stuff.


    Bluegrass Faces.


    Out for drinks in the neighborhood.


    A departure breakfast at "Bar Tabac" which could absolutely be
    in Provence somewhere.




    Trying to capture whimsy this weekend.






    Catching the train back to b-more.
    Thank you for the laughs and the feeling of home.

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