Follow Alessandra on Instagram @Alessandra_Official and Twitter @novembergrlfoto
Follow Alessandra on Instagram @Alessandra_Official and Twitter @novembergrlfoto
snow in the small hours; a secret window
a winter nachtgarten
Follow Alessandra on Instagram @Alessandra_Official and Twitter @novembergrlfoto
An Ephemeral Question
A friend on FB who is known for asking engaging questions posed the simple query “what is your favorite number?” and here is my answer, elaborated:
I identify with 11 very much. Getting the practical numerology out of the way: My birthday is 11/22, (at 2:22 AM in Germany- so I like seeing double twos as well of course, being eleven more than eleven.) Digging a little deeper: 11 to me as a lonely only child symbolizes growing up with my own shadow (and embracing that shadow) as my best friend- being my own gravity. I see it as a quiet numeral. I had a very rich inner life and a vivid imagination that colors my every heartbeat and interaction even now. It means self-sufficiency and that my haven is solitude. I feel it is the most elegant-sounding number, too: “Eleven“. Unsurprisingly, I see the digits absolutely everywhere- even in heartbreaking, heart-stopping, places, like the day I saw the largest physical 11 crumble right in front of me to the ground.
What is number is auspicious to you and why?
59th & Lexington, NYC
Find Alessandra on Instagram @Alessandra_Official
Yesterday, we tucked ourselves hand-in-hand, book-bossomed, into a warm coffee shoppe with our recent findings from the book trader on 2nd + Market to try to revive a little inner apricity and to kill time before catching a film.
Taking a moment between pages and sips of fresh coffee in my typical state of glowy vorfreude to steal a glance at and a gaze from my mate, I noticed this fun typography:
Find Alessandra on Instagram @Alessandra_Official | Twitter @novembergrlfoto
Gustavia, St Barthélemy
“The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing which stands in their way.” -William Blake
Today I got to meet and work with a renaissance woman who instructs yoga. She came to me as a referral and I was immediately intrigued! One of the bigger challenges for a bit of a shy-girl (that’s me) who is a photographer is posing people for their portraits. I don’t like telling people what to do! Here was someone I wouldn’t have to direct very much which freed me to be able to concentrate on the technical aspects of the shoot and allowed her to flow through her movements. Both of us were at ease, and before we knew it an hour and a half had passed and the shoot was finished!
(Learn more about Hunter Clarke-Fields’ yoga practice here: http://www.hunterartist.com/yoga/)
Once upon a time many chapters of life ago I worked out of Washington, DC and would commute at the end of each week back to Delaware and Pennsylvania. I wrote this on one such trek eastward this time eleven years past. Freshly “post 9/11”, having been immersed in a strange new world of confusing and radical precedents (especially regarding travel, which was a large part of my experience back then) and fear (I worked nationally and within a myriad of federal government buildings daily) what I felt below was like coming up for gulps of delicious life-giving oxygen.
Chesapeake Bay Sunset
by Alessandra Nicole
January 2002
The moon is bright and full and I actually got out of work before dark for once. The sun was setting over the great Chesapeake Bay as I crossed the five-mile bay bridge.
Suddenly, a feeling of euphoria welled up from somewhere deep within me, like my soul woke up from a nap and was stretching. I began to feel so peaceful and happy that tears came to my eyes. Seeing both the sun setting and the fat moon hanging in the sky like it was I had to pull over to give them my full attention.
I looked out over the Bay as vibrant violets and tangerines lost their tempers and exploded into an astonishing array of furious flames filling the clouds overhead with a raging fever. What was even more breathtaking was the reflection made in the water, perfectly mirrored as if there was no horizon line, and it didn’t even stagger as it was sliced in half by a sharp ocean liner. I stood there and imagined myself diving into that reflection, swimming and swirling with the mercury-stained sun and the shy stars, swept into a Technicolor tide of tremendous color play. I waited until the very tip of the sun vanished below the horizon, and filled my lungs with the sweet Bay air musk I grew up with.
I waited until a gentle northeastern January breeze ran her chilly fingers through my hair, whispering into my ears that night had begun and the temperature had dropped. I climbed back into my little car and let the moon lead me east, and I drove up the moonbeams to my home.
pteridomania {noun} “fern fever”:
a term coined in 1855 by Charles Kinglsey in reference to the Victorian fern-collecting craze
At the beginning of Autumn last year, my beau gifted me the book “Tiny World Terrariums” by Michelle Inciarrano and Katy Maslow, the creators of Twig Terrariums (http://www.twigterrariums.com.) I have always been captivated by terrariums and was eager to learn what it takes to make a successful little ecosystem of my own.
The process was an amazingly rewarding little journey. I purchased a Weck jar and went hunting throughout Chester County, PA for the many elements over a period of weeks. I used soil, moss, and small pretty stones I found along the Brandwyine River on hikes with my beau around his home and out at The Laurels (http://www.brandywineconservancy.org/laurelsPreserve.html.)
After consulting a bit with the professional green thumbs at one of my most favorite indulgences, Terrain (http://www.shopterrain.com/styers/) I topped this new little world off with a little plant from there that reminded me of a favorite tree.
I’m very proud of my inaugural terrarium and am already looking for glass and moss for my next one! I think I’m going to seek out some vintage-y apothecary glass for it this time and maybe introduce some tiny imaginative creatures.