Sometimes I wish I could light my thoughts on fire and watch them burn to black ash so I could sweep them away with my bare hand and wipe the residue on my jeans and wash the last of it away with bleach in my too small washer, but that’s impossible. 

Lovers/haters/sticker vandals, you…complete…me 


In my dreams I see reds and purples and blues as vividly as blacks and greys and whites. Sometimes yellows and greens stand out over the rest. When I was a young girl, someone told me that this was impossible, that our dreams were all in black and white. I decided I must have a Technicolor painter editing my dreams because the colors were what I remembered most when I awoke. 


It could be graffiti, it could be art, but it reminded me of war, half baked, quickly executed, with unknown fallout…a disaster in black and polluted white. 


Shogun armor in an antique shop window in Amsterdam’s Museumplein. I couldn’t help thinking ‘that would fit me!’ as I passed by and had to snap a photograph. Dreams of another lifetime…they fill my everyday. 


‘Icarus Remains’ by Josie Spencer in London’s Golden Square. He flew too close to the sun and disappeared beneath the sea. 


The sun is missing today. This bear can attest to that. His shades are useless, farcical, with their oversize hearts. London skies are a sun vacuum, replacing the brilliant golds with bitter grey. I feel it today, a particular type of unkindness settling beneath my tepid skin. In Texas I would be burning with joy, instead of drowning in apathy. Come back oh yellow beam of light, return and warm my muted heart. Remind me why I love London summertime, or why I think I do.


The light inside the Torre del Mangia or ‘Tower of the Eater’ is a photographer’s dream.


Siena is filled with narrow alleyways, each one uniquely decorated. This one has what appears to be fishtail chandeliers lighting the way. Bellissimo! 


Looking out from the dark womb of the bell tower, wondering if I can once again take the scorching Italian heat #torredelmangia #siena