And to drink…Peru!
Going through files of digital pictures is like rummaging through a junk drawer. I don’t have a junk drawer here in Brooklyn, though mostly because I have very few drawers. I don’t even have a proper closet, so the storage I do have, has to count. Instead, clicking through old pictures is my virtual equivalent of looking for treasure in a messy drawer. There were several in my parents’ house, in fact there’s still a gem of a drawer in their laundry room—naked Barbie doll, rubber bands, hair ribbons, forgotten mail, a harmonica.
Last night I found an amazing assortment of pictures of friends from a couple of years ago. Friends I’ve known for decades, some I’ve just met since living in New York. Before moving here in 2007, I took a quick holiday to Cusco, Peru, for a wedding. I have yet to really write about the entire experience: about hiking to Machu Picchu and the most amazing bologna sandwich and Oreo cookies we had after trekking for countless hours; Chad and Sofia’s incredible wedding in a centuries-old cathedral or how a trip to South America can be a little bit like an extensive colon flush.
This picture was taken after arriving in Cusco. I still remember the excitement I felt at flying over the snow-capped Andes. They were monstrous and craggy and beautiful. Upon landing in Cusco,elevation 11,000 feet, the air felt different, the light was different, like being on the other side of the moon. I’ve never been to a place that felt so foreign—but in a good way.
Gowanus
Maybe it’s because I’m a water sign, but water is a constant theme in my life. For instance, now, in my current apartment, water always finds a way inside, whether it’s the multiple leaks in my bedroom roof or, most recently, a leaky radiator.
When I lived in Santa Monica, I had many little found nooks in which to look at the ocean—Ocean Park or Asilomar Boulevard in the Palisades. The latter is one of my favorite streets in Los Angeles. Just shy of a park, there are multiple benches along this residential street that overlook the ocean. On those spring days when the sun is bright—and the Pacific and sky are practically the same color—there’s no better place; just a gorgeous view, the light hum of traffic from PCH, and a lone airplane overhead.
When I moved to New York, I had the pleasure of proximity to the Gowanus Canal. A forgotten body of water, with which I became slightly obsessed. I started researching its history, wanting to know why it had been left to become the stench pool that it is. I won’t bore you with a Brooklyn history lesson now, but there were days, when the light was just right, that even this stagnant cesspool was pretty. Reminded me of the lagoon on the campus of UC Santa Barbara—another bright idea gone awry.
Even though I don’t live near the Canal anymore, I still occasionally visit it.
Worst Day Ever film shoot, November 2009
When Viviana said that Guillaume was shooting a film in New York, I expected a tiny “student film” production. However, once I signed on as the still photographer, I immediately began receiving call sheets from the first AD, and after arriving on set, I realized this was a full-blown movie production: gaffers, grips, etc.
Worst Day Ever, written by and starring Guilluame Labbe and Nina Braddock. Directed by Eric Pellerin.
Compendium of Curiosities at Bergdorf Goodman
For the last few years, Jocelyn Meintser, former style editor of Flaunt magazine, has been hand making papier-maché animals for the holiday windows at luxury retailer, Bergdorf Goodman. She literally sculpts them, first by creating a wire skeleton and then giving the bodies heft with paper and starch. In the past, she’s made monkeys—monkeys in velvet coats, hanging in various and precarious positions throughout the spanse of the windows. But this year, monkeys were not present. Instead, Jocelyn gave life to rabbits and frogs for the theme, Compendium of Curiosities. One rabbit wore a ruffled shirt and coat, as he stepped from a tree doorway extending a key; another was seated, wearing a flouncy shirt and court jester collar. The frog wore a bow tie.
There was an obvious underlying literary theme: the frog with the quill, a crow at a typewriter, stacks of books, letters, and paper roses made from pages of text. There was so much happening amidst this wintry color palette of creams and minty greens. It was a multitude of stories layered on top of each other so that it felt like everything might topple. When looking at the windows again…and again…a new character or object was sure to catch the eye.
In all, the windows, as they always are, were fantastic visual wonderlands. Each window echoed moments from Alice in Wonderland, though Alice herself wasn’t present. Perhaps the mannequins, dressed in couture (Marc Jacobs, Monique Lhullier), were grown-up versions of the little girl. So many artists and assistants were employed to make these creations happen. I’m glad I live here to experience the beauty first hand.
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