hide in plain sight.

I swam in the ocean today. It was lovely. Why did I ever stop doing that?

I brought Rebecca Solnit’s A Field Guide to Getting Lost with me to re-read, and found this:

Went to see The Beaches of Agnes last night- So good! Agnes Varda looks back on her life and the places she’s lived and the films she’s made and the beaches she’s visited with people she’s known- she likes the beach, you see. At 80 she’s got more life and passion in her than most people you’ve met. So good! 

Which reminded me that I like the beach too. So I woke up early and went to Coney Island.

I love how beaches are the same. There’s women in big hats, and old men in speedos doing strange exercises. And people with metal detectors looking for treasure. 

Then I had a typography freak out. Fried Shrimp! Funnel Cake! 

Everything looked so damn good. It made my head swim.

Maybe I was making a mountain out of a molehill. A weekly five pounds of fruit really means the pie versus jam conundrum-do I make pie or jam? Do I live in the moment or stop time in its tracks? Do I have to choose? – is less of a conundrum and more like an embarrassment of riches.

Or Richies, perhaps. When my neighbors want to get busy, they play the greatest hits of Lionel Ritchie at full volume. This means I get to enjoy his dulcet tones while I cook.  Tonight was one of those nights.

This pie wants to know if you’re somewhere feeling lonely, or is someone loving you? Coated in caramel this pie is. And when I think caramel, I think Lionel. I’ve been waiting a whole month to make it. You’ve been waiting even longer to taste it, I can see it in your eyes, I can see it in your smile. Say it for always, that’s the way it should be.

This is what I drew tonight while struggling yet again with the jam-versus-pie conundrum. 

This is what I saw this weekend, while walking along the Hudson. I’m happiest near water.

is like a picture of a sunny day.

I’m having Sleater-Kinney nostalgia this weekend. 

At some point I’m going to have a lot of choices to make with this. Page size? Maybe bigger than I thought? It’s nothing like figure skating, really. I’m going to have to choose actual colors and stick with them. Paginate. Structure. At this point, though, it’s sort of up in the air. I think I really will have all the blocks carved by the end of the summer, which means setting the type and printing the edition in the fall and binding over the December break.  

The summer CSA fruit share means I could theoretically make a pie every damn week ’til november. 

This one’s for our interns. Why are cherry pies so darn pie-like? Cartoon pies look like cherry pies. 

I read this the other day:

and I just want to give the author a loud round of applause for ambition. There’s some big feelings, there.

have had their delight and amazement worn right out of them. 

Like everyone else in New York, I love the High Line. 

I walked for three hours yesterday and then stopped by work for a glass of water. 

I’m going down to a four day work week as of next week; I’m looking forward to it, especially since it’s summer. I can get more work done on the book and spend more time walking outside. Also: more time to make summer fruit desserts.