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November 2015

Tsk, tsk, tsk… brisk, brisk, brisk. It’s a bad sign when one starts channeling laundry detergent commercial jingles from the 80’s, and so soon in the week. No matter, the schedule is about to get very busy, and the holidays are right around the corner, so anticipation is in the air. There’s nothing I like better. Upcoming tour stops include Boston this weekend, followed by New York the following weekend, and then it will be Thanksgiving. I’ve already taken out the recipe for candied yams. (This year I’m adding orange zest – eek!!!) On with the recap before charging ahead.

The advent of the holidays means more time coming up in Amsterdam, where this delicious dinner was held.

It also means more time with these twins. (And more opportunities for dress-up.)

Laying low when the moon is high (and full).

A Hunk by the name of Zack Hartwanger needs no other introduction.

Vintage nakedness, always in season.

Blue sky, blue hair, red leaves.

Male model Dustin McNeer stole the Hunk of the Day show.

A lazy post.

Immaculate iconographer Troy Gua makes good face.

Jess Vill got his second crowning as Hunk of the Day, as did Gregory Nalbone.

Finally, no matter how brisk, some still got their naked bits and bobs out.

This patch of colorful Boston ivy runs the expanse of a brick-backed building in downtown Albany. In the spring the leaves start out in a bright chartreuse green, the kind that looks phenomenal against a red brick façade bordered by a blue sky. As summer arrives, those leaves deepen into a thick and glossy evergreen shade, dark and lush and still set off to gorgeous effect by the earthy brick. Now, those leaves are putting on their finest show, in an undulating spectrum of color which, when taken as a whole, looks like some beautiful topographical map (I see Greenland). Nestled between buildings, this is one of those hidden gems that most Capital Region folks will not have the pleasure of witnessing in person, and my sad iPhone photo scarcely does it justice, but hopefully you get the idea. There is beauty all around us if we look closely enough.

Some people, myself once included, give up when the first hard frosts fell the tender foliage and flowers, but I’ve since learned that micro-climates save some precious flowers (we’ve had roses in the snow before), and certain flowers have the hardiness to weather a few frosts (the Lenten Rose and the furry-leaved sage are two such performers). In other words, there will be secret surprises that could feasibly push into December if we are lucky to continue in this vein of kind weather.

“Do you know how sometimes you see a man, and you’re not sure if you want to get in his pants or if you want to cry? Not because you can’t have him; maybe you can. But you see right away something in him beyond having. You can’t screw your way into it, any more than you can get at the golden egg by slitting the goose. So you want to cry, not like a child, but like an exile who is reminded of his homeland.” – Mark Merlis

And sometimes you have to recycle quotes and photographs because you’re simply too spent from shooting, editing, ordering, and writing holiday cards, holiday invitations, and holiday gift books. ‘Tis the freakin’ season.

This bloody Super Moon from a few weeks ago was kind enough to pause as it changed from a ghostly white to a reddish Mars-like hue. It still just appears as a tiny speck, but I caught it as it was beginning to turn into this shade of red, like some blood cell as seen through a microscope. The camera, and my unsteady hand, don’t always manage to get a decent moon shot (other than my over-exposed ass) so this is the best we could both muster. You get the idea.

Around such full moons, I tend to lay low, if possible. There is too much charged air to ruffle feathers than can normally take it, and far less room for mayhem if you keep still and quiet. I learned long ago that it’s sometimes better to hold your tongue than unleash it, particularly at the wrong time. There is power in silence, and power in peace, even when there’s blood on the moon.

It was a week in which we bade October good-bye.

It was a week in which we got dolled up for Halloween.

It was a week in which we gained an extra hour.

It was the week in which we entered November, and there’s no turning back now.

On this blog, it was the week we went back to Ogunquit, starting with a whimsical stop at Spoiled Rotten. Filled with the richness of fall, the town was in glorious color. It went by, as it always does, much too quickly, encapsulated by a brief haiku. The entirety of winter stands between us and our return there… unless I make an oft-wished-for journey to Maine in the middle of winter as part of The Delusional Grandeur Tour.

Seasonal splendor played its fiery part in the past week, as the foliage burned before falling away, and fall made the turn from something merely hinted at to a full-blown descent of temperature and leaves.

This is some seriously scary shit I did not need to see

In the realm of Hunkdom, we crowned Dallas ‘Flashman’ Wade, Dez Bryant, Casey Conway and Colton Haynes.

Halloween arrived, Part One and Part Two of it, plus an added trip down memory lane.

November was right on its heels.

Somehow it’s football season, in the midst of that baseball series, if it is still going on.

It is said that February is the cruelest month, but I always reach my saddest point in November. That’s when things are at their bleakest – the days are dim and dark, the trees are bare, and there’s not (usually) snow to lighten the surface of the world. At least in February there is some light at the end of the tunnel. In November, we’ve only just ducked into the darkness – any light is a long way off.

There are comforts though, in the midst of that cold November Rain. Cozy turkey dinners, the arrival of Thanksgiving, and the beginning of the proper holiday season. A few more sunny days, brisk and biting though they may be. This year, I will focus on those comforts, on the warmth and cheer that we can bring to each other – because it’s always a choice. We will weather the winter together, you and I, like we have always done. In the dozen or so years this website has been in existence, it’s provided some sustaining connection, some cradled and protected nook of community, whether seen or known, and on cold dark mornings it has been a source of safety, a way to feel a little less alone.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I sort of sense you there, in the black, anonymous night (and more than a few non-anonymous folks I’ve had the pleasure of meeting in the flesh) and I am thankful that you have come by for a visit. Your presence has been noted, and appreciated, and has made a difference in my life. Try as I might to convince myself otherwise, we do not live in a vacuum. Our interactions, and everything we put out into the world – whether here or on the street or to the most fleeting stranger – make a difference. It matters.