scenes from the weekend.

{west village food tour}

{a trip to the met}

{a hike in staten island // a birthday night}

{the ace hotel decor}

you're KILLING me west village! your streets are so warm and your sweets are so wonderful.  a west village food tour that my roommates had secretly doubted would be fun (one word: haters) turned out to be the most fun, albeit glutinous, activity of the weekend.  we saw the building where the show friends was filmed, the city's narrowest apartment, pretty carriage houses, and lots and lots of hipsters. we ate the city's best pizza and ridiculous rice balls and the softest bagel and the most moist cupcakes and the chewiest macaroons and the crunchiest canolies.  and then we swore off food for the next 24 hours (until we got home, of course). 

now on to the next semester! and another polar vortex. 

"we write to taste life twice."

- anais nin

2/52

{post-polar vortex: a snowy winter walk with J}

a view from where i stand, every week, every month, this year.

"it doesn't interest me what you do for a living, i want to know what you ache for.  it doesn't interest me how old you are, i want to know if you are willing to risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.  i want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine.  it doesn't interest me where you live or how rich you are, i want to know if you can get up after a night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and be sweet to the ones you love.  i want to know if you can be alone with yourself and truly like the company you keep in the empty moments of your life."

- john blais

a weekend in miami.

{art deco for days // a love note in the airport // a girl and her kindle book}

{a buckled-in chinchilla for a car ride // a mango jugo // an insomniac's morning view}

as the polar vortex spun the northeast winds, i ate pollo tropical (fast food cuban) with my sister in a sea of amazing sit-down restaurants, and sat on a beach with a starbucks cup in hand. life was good.  i've spent the past few days catching up with J in scarsdale, but it's back to the apartment life (and the bachelor, and the season premier of girls) tonight. 

"the only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance."

- alan watts 

1/52

{the last view until summer: home sweet home}

a view from where i stand, every week, every month, this year.  some incentive to push myself to stand in some pretty cool places.

"the thing about being catapulted into a whole new life - or at least, shoved up so hard against someone else's life that you might as well have your face pressed against their window - is that it forces you to rethink your idea of who you are.  or how you might seem to other people."

- from my current read me before you 

happy new year.

a little year in review // my favorites from the past 365.  while going through my pictures, i realized that there were a few months here and there where i failed to post.  while this little space is not the only thing i spend my time on (der), i thought it was interesting because those few months were the messiest - the most trying - and the most i needed to turn inward and to those supportive people around me.  i am gregarious and outgoing by nature (just ask my enfj profile), yet very much need time to recharge my proverbial batteries. i hope 2014 is full of times where i'm once again challenged and pushed and prodded, as i've never grown or experienced more as i have this past year. bring on those post-less months! 

"i hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes.

because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world.  you're doing things you've never done before, and more importantly, you're doing something.

so that's my wish for you, and all of us, and my wish for myself.  make new mistakes.  make glorious, amazing, mistakes. make mistakes nobody's ever made before.  don't freeze, don't stop, don't worry that it isn't good enough, or it isn't perfect, whatever it is: art, or love, or work, or family, or life. 

whatever it is you're scared of doing. do it. 

make your mistakes, next year and forever."

- neil gaiman 

january 

february 

march

april

may

june

july

august

september

october

november

december