Category Archives: General

A solitary oak leaf flutters down on a tempestuous wind. Its oak tree of origin stands many yards away. I’ve always loved when the wind is like that, transporting objects through the air for great distances, and depositing them in yards where puzzled finders like myself happen upon them. Somewhere, and I haven’t even figured out where, a birch tree stands that has had its caterpillar-like strands of blossoms carried into our backyard, where no birch tree resides. It gives wonder to the world when we think we know it all. 

On this day, it’s the brown oak leaf that captures my rapt attention. One leaf among many that decided to jump into the wind, it does its quick dance before dropping to the ground. It joins its brethren, shades of brown upon brown, some of them torn and almost shredded, some mostly intact save for a few tears or holes, and some in various states of disintegration and degradation, never to be put back together again. The ground floor of fall is a tattered and largely broken collection of bits and pieces. So the earth gives and takes in its yearly cycle. 

The wind is strong and disagreeably unpredictable. It zigs when you are preparing for it to zag, and it appears when you least want it, wreaking havoc with dust in the eyes or the absolute worst parting of the hair. Impossible to navigate or manipulate, it is a cruel wind, tossing the grass heads here and there, bending them to its wayward will. There is no peace on this day. 

Even when the sun finally decides to appear, it barely makes a difference, and then it is gone. 

Awakened at the ungodly hour of 5 AM with the old man’s urge to pee, I go back to bed only to toss and turn for a few minutes, realizing that my brain is already in overdrive and further sleep will be impossible. Kicking off the covers, I’m up – the irrevocable chain of morning events that will lead me back into the world has begun, earlier than usual, and therefore calmer and more mindful than usual. Time affords such mindfulness. 

Outside, the sky is mostly without light or color – all to be filled in later. I find this calming bit of music and amble into the kitchen. It’s too early to think with any clarity, and so I set up two cups of tea – one matcha and one some elderberry concoction. Normally I would just do one – what compels the double dose is beyond my reason. The piano gently moves the morning along. 

Donning a pair of reading glasses (atop my contact lenses, which went in on autopilot before I groggily exited the bathroom earlier) I type these words while sipping the matcha. ‘I’m getting old,’ I thought. Forty-seven suddenly felt daunting, because I didn’t usually feel it at all. These dark mornings certainly do work their melancholy, but the music was calming, and the tea was warm in my hand, and please God may that be enough to get us through the winter. 

At the dining room table, a collection of Christmas gifts in various states of wrapping surround my laptop. In this dim morning and its lack of light, it all feels a little sad, a little futile. The silly rituals we humans have crafted to feel just a little bit better or to believe just a little bit more. The efforts a person makes to belong and connect…

This is why it’s best to be asleep at such an hour. 

This is how we greet December. 

Speaking of squirrels, I found this whimsical sticker for Andy the last time I was in Vermont. It personifies the cozy aspects of the season, and I love an animal that wears another animal’s visage on its slippers. Hell, I love an animal that wears slippers. And a robe! This squirrel is after my own heart. Now onto the weekly recap…

A moment of beauty and respite.

Tuesday Bluesday.

These hips don’t lie.

The rush of madness.

Climb up to the partridge in a pear tree.

This is how we party now.

Happy Thanksgiving! 

Heeding the holiday start.

Royal holiday tradition.

The Madonna Timeline returned with this incongruous summer bop, ‘Beautiful Stranger’, which brought me way back into the 90’s, when mistakes were made and summers were long. 

The Christmas Wish List 2022, because I’ve been a very good boy.

When holly appears without ivy all hell breaks loose.

The diabolical shirtlessness of it all.

Climb atop this stalk.

The hairy-chested slumberjack.

Dazzlers of the Day included Patrick McNaughton and Douglas Sills.

It seems some of us have taken to sleeping more than usual as we wind our way into winter. Both Andy and my Dad have been sleeping much more than usual, with naps that last deep into the day. I find myself more sleepy than usual too, thanks partly to the reduced daylight, and the weather that makes one want to linger in a warm bed for as long as possible. Sleep is a beautiful indulgence, unappreciated by too many of us, and underutilized as well. Much healing, and healing of a profound sort, can happen in our sleep. The body works its magic then, when it can focus on what needs repair rather than the rigorous exertions required to keep us awake and functioning at any given moment. We all need rest and recuperation. 

Hunkering down for some long winter naps is a recompense of the dark and stormy seasons. On gray weekend afternoons, when the sun doesn’t really bother to truly shine, I’ll slip up to the attic, pull a few sumptuous blankets onto the bed, and read until my eyes gently close. There are far more destructive ways to pass a day, especially during the impending holiday rush; this is a pleasant and peaceful alternative. If there is a cup of tea waiting for me downstairs when the nap is done, the coziness might continue. 

Illuminated by the descending sun, in that afternoon light that is made all the more glorious for its fleeting trajectory, these straps of fountain grass have dried completely into the straw-colored stalks you see here. Topped by the plumes of their seedheads, little mops of fluffy tentacles, they sway and move in the slightest breeze, creating their own symphony of light and sound. Against a blue sky that has somehow retained more color than late November skies typically harbor, the grass rustles and murmurs – sometimes in a whisper, sometimes in a hiss, sometimes in a harsh tear – dead and dry leaves rubbing wickedly against one another. It is the music of another world, not usually heard or understood or appreciated by human ears. 

In our backyard, the squirrels rush by in small groups, chasing each other in some mad quest for more seeds and acorns, while the birds still haunt the bare stalks of the cup plant and seven sons’ flower tree, hoping to find some missed fruit of late summer hidden among the stems. Andy and I watch them go by, and though the day has grown relatively warm for this time of the year, it’s still cozier to be on the inside looking out. 

The sunlight leaves quickly after that. During my meditation, I sense the rapid draining of light from the sky, as the candle before me grows brighter in comparison. It was a sunny day, much appreciated in November, and gone much too soon; there is less than a month left of fall, and then the entirety of winter beyond that. 

I keep the music of the grass in my head, the sweetness of its rustle and cut, the way the most tattered things still manage to make something beautiful when singled out and heard. 

“It is hard for me to make sense on any given level. Myself is fabricated, an aberration. I am a noncontingent human being. My personality is sketchy and unformed, my heartlessness goes deep and is persistent. My conscience, my pity, my hopes disappeared a long time ago (probably at Harvard) if they ever did exist. There are no more barriers to cross. All I have in common with the uncontrollable and the insane, the vicious and the evil, all the mayhem I have caused and my utter indifference toward it, I have now surpassed. I still, though, hold on to one single bleak truth: no one is safe, nothing is redeemed. Yet I am blameless. Each model of human behavior must be assumed to have some validity. Is evil something you are? Or is it something you do? My pain is constant and sharp and I do not hope for a better world for anyone. In fact, I want my pain to be inflicted on others. I want no one to escape. But even after admitting this—and I have countless times, in just about every act I’ve committed—and coming face-to-face with these truths, there is no catharsis. I gain no deeper knowledge about myself, no new understanding can be extracted from my telling. There has been no reason for me to tell you any of this. This confession has meant nothing…” ~ Bret Easton Ellis, ‘American Psycho’

The older I get, the less I need, and the slightly-less I want. Still, who in their right mind would pass up the opportunity for gift-getting? As proof that the universe conspires to help those who ask for it, there’s currently a sale going on at Tom Ford, so any of the underwear items (size small, as they run rather roomy) found here would be very much appreciated. 

The latest offering from the exquisite Frederic Malle line of fragrance, ‘Uncut Gem’ has all the notes I love, and a moniker that is as timeless as it is slightly saucy. 

Mr. Turk is also offering some Black Friday sales at the moment, though that doesn’t really put a major dent in the price points, but a girl can dream. (Especially of pants like this, which, due to their slim fit, I now require a 33″ in the waist – but for all else I’m still a 32, thank you very much.) Or forget the pants altogether, as I tend to do when I’m working from home, and focus on a gorgeous shirt like this, size large.

Bonobos has the best fit for pants (waist size 32″, length 30″) as they allow for the kind of meaty caboose that holiday eating will deliver, whether we want it or not. These Italian stretch chinos in Mineral look lovely, though my heart really belongs to these velvet penguin pants. 

When all else fails, and you long to be someone who makes me smile over the holidays, there’s always my Amazon wish list, a hodge-podge of whimsical desires (to which I’ll be adding more affordable selections as certain smart people have indicated I’m reaching for the stars). 

What do you want for Christmas?

En route to Amsterdam for our family Thanksgiving dinner, we finally gave in to one of the Christmas music channels on Andy’s radio, and so we spent the ride there and back immersed in our first brush with holiday music this year. It was time, and we needed a little holiday lift. On this day of gratitude, which also marked the anniversary of Andy’s Mom’s passing, we have learned to be appreciative of the little graces afforded in life. 

A bright flash of lemon cypress and the mottled leaves of ivy among these scarlet kalanchoe blooms provide a lovely holiday entry point – proof that powerful colors and simple plants will always be better than any artificial tinsel or electric lights. I will try to take that lesson with me throughout the season, turning to the natural world for tranquility when all the human-induced holiday madness threatens to overwhelm. 

It is once again Turkey Lurkey Time, celebrated in such posts as this (in which I actually caught a Boston turkey on camera). That means we are posting this silly Broadway holiday classic, a version from the appropriately-titled film ‘Camp’:

That’s all. 

Named for the color of the sky in these shots rather than any Tuesday blues sort of thing, the turn in weather of late has suddenly thrust us onto the verge of the holiday season. These two tall evergreens are already decorated with hanging pinecones, the very best sort of decorations when it comes to the holidays: natural, simple, and easy. Every year I strive for this trio, and almost every year I fall short. Or rather, I fall into excess. I used to do too much, I used to force things, and I used to make life much more difficult. The last couple of years I’ve slowly worked out of that, choosing to be selective about commitment and social events, and to enjoy the days as they arrived. Being mindful is something that works well for that, and for a lot of things. 

This holiday season is about to commence, and I’m going into it with the same goal. 

When I started this website way back in 2003, I wanted it to be something different from everything else that was online. It was supposed to be a repository of my creative work, and a little corner of the internet that celebrated beauty, in all its myriad forms. As the years passed, and social media took over, I kept to my original intent. That became easier as most of the surrounding internet clutter was turning more and more vapid, dumbed down by a culture that no longer bothered to proofread, that didn’t value words, that feasted on emojis and memes, never wanting for something that might take time to digest and appreciate. Our technological leaps and bounds brought us speed and connection, and no one bothered to wonder at what cost, to slow it all down and pause, just for a moment, on how fast too fast might be. 

For the most part, the key to the longevity of this site has been in keeping things light and frivolous, even when the world turns dark and serious, as it has done more and more often these past few years. Yesterday, for instance, as referenced in this morning’s recap, there were worldly events going on that went against the silly post I’d planned – which was going to be a second celebration of our first night out in years, showcasing a pink velvet jacket and jewel-encrusted necklace – but that felt off-tone and out of taste. 

The world has been awful before – and it will be again. That’s why this site always goes dark on 9/11. When you’ve lived through that, or something like a worldwide pandemic, you add it to the days you remember, and you seek out intervening moments of beauty to act as a balm upon the hurt. It can never really heal or erase the pain, it just makes life a little more bearable. 

I’ve always wanted this site to be a glimpse into that kind of beauty, or a little wink of whimsical enjoyment, but sometimes life steps in and demands a more sobering assessment. This post, a pause filled with greenhouse cyclamen and the quiet contemplation of a Monday afternoon, is my way of honoring the difficult days behind and ahead of us.

I’ll put that velvet jacket on again one day soon, and get back up to the business of being fabulously frivolous, but for now all I have is a few flowers.

We have arrived, already, at the week of Thanksgiving. The past few days have brought their fair share of heartbreaking incidents – another mass shooting at a gay club in Colorado that killed at least five, a Brandeis shuttle bus that overturned killing at least one, and my own Auntie Naty – one of the most memorable and challenging members of my Dad’s family, passed away in the Philippines. All in all, not a great week – and now we are supposed to give thanks. Well, in gratitude may we find grace, and peace. 

It began in gratuitous and innocuous fashion, with this shirtless Zac Efron post, rekindling the glory days of shirtless male celebrities. 

A green matcha morning eased us into Tuesday.

Another return to form was found in these shots of a shirtless Andrew Garfield for GQ. 

Gone majestically to seed for the season.

A hydrangea bloom illustrates the juxtaposition of new and old – the crux of where some of us currently find ourselves. 

A peek at some fresh succulent inspiration.

Candlelight provides the place and space for calm, if you let it. 

Commencing the sparkle sequence, and setting up for the holiday season. 

Andy and I made our first return to the social scene in three years with a night out at The Pride Gala 2022: The Rainbow Age ~ A New Era of Visibility. I wore this shimmering outfit. 

A dreamy cream sauce by Andy. 

This batch of ham salad brought me back to Saturday nights of gambling with my golden girls. 

Blue clouds beyond the Hudson River.

Going down the Boston memory lane with empty rooms of a young heart.

Dazzlers of the Day include Dave Woodman, Joe Phillips, Priya Nair, Greg Fox, and Nick Jonas.