This is a photo of me in NYC for daughter #1's wedding without that cable that connects my camera and my computer, and thereby, my eyes and yours. When I think about everything I could have forgotten to pack, I guess that's the least calamitous. To be honest though, just like the first day of my European vacation in which I was going to take photos of cool doors (in many ways, easier than shooting people) and used up all 27 frames of my disposable Fuji cardboard camera in the first 17 minutes, my style sensors were immediately over-New Yorked and crashed. The density, the depth, the all-enveloping style-iciousness is too much for my midwestern 1.0 intake system. I am once again reduced to walking around with my mouth slightly ajar (this helps me absorb), shamelessly staring at people in the subway. I have not yet perfected fake sleeping. Afraid of missing something. Like my stop.
I laughed giddily when we exited our rented Tribeca studio onto Greenwich Street and immediately spotted a chicly skinny-jean-and-t-shirt-upholstered model striding along sans makeup. I don't wear makeup either but there are subtle differences -- some smokey eyeliner and dark lipgloss and she would be something exotic and feline, whereas I would look run down.
Instead of a condensed history of the world, I'll try to post telling vignettes. And eventually, even more telling photos. Kiss kiss.
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