Rue de Mott

Any of my former art teachers would cringe, but these storefront images brought to mind Eugene Atget, a Paris photographer who documented the city (and its window displays) in the 1920s.

These are nowhere near his level of composition, but they're incredibly disturbing.

pretty, yet gross.

Hot Afternoon, Mott St.

I know someone loves the summer, but man, Chinatown doesn't smell so good when it gets over 70°.

Lion on Elizabeth

Heat Seeking

Tugboat Too, Empire Fulton Ferry State Park

They're cute because they're little.

a watery commute.

nothing beats commuting to work via water taxi, nothing. here are some of the sites i saw recently on a grey day crossing elliott bay.


why are tug boats so cute?


tankers are definitely less appealing, but those multicolored containers, now that's where it's at.


we passed some peaceful bronts on the way.


some were orange...


and some were white!


speaking of orange...i felt safe.

i have since taken the water taxi on two consecutive gloriously sunny april seattle days. this is rare. and i loved it. it wasn't even windy on the upper outside deck. i sat in my surprisingly comfortable (the crossing is only 12 minutes) plastic chair and read while this sun warmed the top of my head.

glass with class...

and sass!

Red Door, 17th St.

handy.

(don't worry, i think i'll stop with the pee-wee-inspired post names. there won't be a "floory" or a "chairy."

well, not yet.)

spooly.

as i'm pretty sure i told you, this reminds me of my grandmother's wall of threads. hers were not as hue-centrically organized, but i still fondly remember admiring the pegboard of spools. it's also reassuring when your tailor or seamstress goes for an exact thread match when making an alteration, even if just sewing a button.

it's the little things.

Bluebelly Hill

I can't believe I forgot about this set of pictures from my recent visit up north.


There's a certain hillside in a neighboring town that absolutely erupts in vibrant bluebells each early spring. It's even more spectacular when you see them in person, because it's usually about 38 degrees out and the wind is blowing like stink.

The fact that they can grow- and come back- in such a harsh season is miraculous.


(And can you spot the hidden egret above?)

marbley.

i believe you'll recognize that hand...

Two Headed, Irving Place

Pot Luck

The only strong signs of spring are definitely pot-bound here. They still put on quite a show, though.

Twisted Love

A pair of carrots I spotted at the Brooklyn FM this a.m.


I love it when vegetables get scandalous.

i want to be on teaspot.

can you believe this was a week ago yesterday? mmmmm...my jasmine tea and your cheesy dumplings (cheesy in a good way).

foggy morning tale.

if this bench could talk, he'd say: "if only someone would come sit on me...i'd be so happy. i am but a lonely bench. my blue paint used to be shiny and new and uniform. now it is distressed and greyed, but i hear that's in these days, no? i could be shabby chic, really i can. i'm still sturdy...please, have a seat. give me a chance."


at least mister lonely bench has a nice view.


the two beaks at the end of the pier agree.

High Tide

Cold Morning

market walk, the sequel.

i couldn't resist either.

Farmer's Market Walk, Union Square

I know you've seen all this in the flesh already, but I couldn't resist.