Synchronicity
A Long Walk- Coventry, RI

Sometimes you have to go back to where you came from to understand where you’re going. 

imageNo trespassing

imageOld factory

imagePic 2

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Nathaniel Greene’s house

 

imageCoventry Greenway

imageUnder the bridge

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imageSelling Rock

imageThe streets where I’m from

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Factory Run off

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imageEnd of the hill

imageThe tree I planted when I was four. We grew up together. Guess who’s taller?

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Winter Boat

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Clown Sundae from Newport Creamery. Can still order at 25 yrs of age. 

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Made it to the ocean.

imageJamestown Cliffs.

imageFound God in the water. 

Breakdown.

i caught a morning bus out of Port Authority on St. Patricks Day. Crowds decked out in green swarmed into the city as I boarded to leave. 

My horoscope in the paper read: “Breakdowns lead to breakthroughs.” 

I took a deep breath. Sometimes you have to go back to where you came from to understand where you’re going. 

Coventry, RI 

you won!

Thanks Jenny! You have a whole mat class added to your online account!

The Fortune Cookie

My Fortune Told by One Mysterious Cookie:

Seashells

The saltwater
sprinkled on my skin
as it crashed upon the rocks,
the sun bounced 
off my smile
as I climbed
desperately collecting
seashells,
little swirls
marking years
of memories
in the sea,
now I look back
and reflect 
on how life has washed 
into me.


Farewell LCD Soundsystem

Last night LCD Soundsystem played their last show EVER. As a quintessential New York band I fell in love with them when I first moved to this grand city. I’ve seen them play three times and seen James Murphy DJ countless more and when you see LCD live it’s always like its New Year’s Eve.

     I went to see them play on Wednesday at one of their four finale shows at Terminal Five. And I noticed this show was a little different than the other times I’ve seen them. They were giving everything on stage and leaving their sweat and music to live on with their fans. I’m not goinna lie realizing this could be the last time I see them (until they decide to reunite in 3-4 years) I got a little choked up. It’s definitely the end of an era and for me it was a little bit of losing my youth.

 So, as a tribute my top five LCD songs.


5. Dance yourself clean

“Break me into bigger pieces

So some of me is home with you”

 

4. All I Want

“Wait for the day you come home from the lonely part

And look for the girl who has put up with all of your shit

You never have needed anyone for so long”

 

3. Tribulations

“Everybody makes mistakes,

But I feel alright when I come undone

You’re not not making me wait,

But it seems alright as long as something’s happening”

 

2. New York I love you but you’re bringing me down

“New York, I Love You

But you’re bringing me down”

“But you’re still the one pool

Where I’d happily drown”

 

1. All my friends

“And if the sun comes up, if the sun comes up, if the sun comes up

and I still don’t wanna stagger home.

Then it’s the memory of our betters

that are keeping us on our feet.

You spent the first five years trying to get with the plan,

and the next five years trying to be with your friends again.”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HIj-R1b6VqA

Healing

There’s still time, for you,

to change your mind or whatever else you do. 

There’s still time.” MMJ

  

Forgetting

Last night I thought about when we met

The vodka we drank from a bottle

And the way you kissed my neck

Except now I hate you

And memories won’t change that.

Cold lips on my bare skin,

Hot crack

Burning in a pipe.

If only I could forget 

I wouldn’t be so worried about getting outta here. 

Summer Nights in the City

Lighting flashing in the dark sky

On a sultry summer night in the city.

The heat is steaming out of the subway grates

forming as sweatbeads

On pedestrians.

Down on Bowery the bums are

Making their cardboard beds

While uptown in the village

Young women slip on silk dresses

And let their weaves out

As they prepare for the hunt.

The drum beats in Union Square,

They saunter into dark clubs

Where they move their hips as they lend themselves

To the music

Sweat drips down their thighs

And form puddles on the floor.

Men slink and slither

Finding themselves wrapped around their perfect bodies

Fruity drinks and vodka shots

Help cool the brow

And spread open the legs.

With a swift hand

A cab is hailed

And Manhattan is left behind

As they retreat to a Brooklyn loft.

Lighting lights up the sky

And thunder crashes

A howl echoes in the streets

As desire is fulfilled

Rain pours down

Cooling the city.

Coney Island

                     

    It was the summer of 1979 and I was enjoying the warmest day of the summer on Coney Island. I’d spent all week running to every audition on Broadway and my feet were still bleeding from my red high heels.  I needed a break even if it was only for a day. My floppy sun hat was protecting my pale skin but also limiting my view. Then, I heard his voice.

    “Ice cream! Get your ice cream!” A pudgy boy swept past me to run to buy his sweet snack. I smiled and turned around to watch. I guess it was his eyes that I first noticed. He had the deepest blue eyes that seemed to immediately invade my soul. He was working as a vender that summer to make some extra pennies. My bright yellow sundress must have stood out to him on that hot summer day because he walked right up to me an offered me a free cone. “But why?” I asked and he smiled coyly “You’re making summer beautiful.” I couldn’t help but giggle at his corny line.

    The bright sun dipped below the ocean and the lights of Astroland took over the island. We rode the Ferris wheel over and over again. His voice was a perfect pitch and his stories hit every note just right. He told me about how he ran away from his alcoholic father to be an artist, how he paints the world to understand it, and how he feels alone in a city of millions. My long strawberry blond hair blew in the summer breeze as we went around and around. He carefully pushed it away from my face and ran his fingers through it.

    In the next weeks we met in cafes where our kisses would mix with the sweet taste of our café au laits. We kissed on dimly lit streets, restaurant booths, and subway trains. Those kisses from him were perfection. He brought me to his loft in Soho, which was really just a workshop with a mattress. He laid me down with such tender care that I couldn’t help but fall weak to his advances. The first time we made love was the first time I ever felt anything. I hit notes I’d only dreamt of before. The days seem so long when you’re young and in love.

    In the middle of the night he would wake up in beads of sweat and breathing hard. I even saw a tear on his face one night but he quickly wiped it away and I never saw him cry again. He’d run so far away from his past but it was haunting his dreams and he could only seem to paint pictures from his broken home. When he painted his blue eyes would become inflamed with passion.  He always asked to paint me. He said my long hair and slim curves would lend well to a canvas. In my modesty I always said no, however his paint always seemed to get all over me anyway. Green, blue, and black acrylic sprinkled on my milky skin.

   When we moved to the Village, I filled our home with lilacs and cherry blossoms to sweeten the smell of his turpentine. I tried to bring yellows and baby blues into his dark life. I was always the silk that wrapped around his coarse edges. When he came home frustrated by the struggles of the city I would stroke his head and sing him a lullaby. I wanted to erase his childhood and give him a new one. He finally got the chance to replace his father when my belly grew into the size of a beach ball.

   Salvador was born in a snowstorm. He was swept up in the white wind and carried to us with a blistering cold. His pale skin brought out his father’s blue eyes. After his birth I could only speak in song and his father could only speak in color. Salvador was the perfect blend of music and art.

   We were on the brink of forever and yet carefree through all our struggles. Our passions didn’t always pay the bills. Only one night we were tested. He came home drunk and I slapped him and told him he was just like his father. He pushed me up against the wall and gave me a chance to take it back but I didn’t. He let me go and we never spoke of it again. Salvador was our only hope during those times. We would just watch him discover the world, crawling, then walking, then running. His hands became his eyes as they got into everything.

  When we finally took Salvador to Coney Island it looked different. Graffiti covered the walls next to Nathan’s Hotdogs. Time had taken its toll and I couldn’t help but feel sad. I stood on the beach trying to remember. Then, a wind swept through my hair and I turned around. I met his deep blue eyes and all of a sudden it was once again the summer of ’79.