a New Day at dawn

August 14, 2015

I dwell in possibility…

        Emily Dickinson


Northbrook Road 

August 2, 2015

The long and winding road

That leads to your door

Will never disappear

I’ve seen that road before

It always leads me here

Lead me to your door 

                     Sir Paul McCartney

mysterious Montauk

July 8, 2015


“I am sometimes a lighthouse, and sometimes the sea.”

                      –Alessandra Nicole


January 1, 2015


Goodnight, Moon

May 27, 2014



November 1, 2013

I read a quote online recently that I can’t seem to relocate but the essence of it was something like this:

Who will regard your dying as beautiful?

Those of us in love with the season of Autumn as much as I must on some level regard aging and letting go as a beautiful process; a glorious celebration in bursts of colour, sexy textures, smokey scents. Summer’s tantrum is through and the following season is an eloquent, sensual eulogy before a snowy funeral, really; at least if you live in an area that experiences four proper seasons.

Where else in life do we regard the aging and dying process as such a gorgeous one? What if we were to embrace it in each other with such revelry, presence, appreciation as well?