Today my sweet and lovely friends Courtney Anderson & Noelle Serafino said some things to me that made me want to twirl around like Fraulein Maria, so I did it and I sent Courtney a video of me doing it, and this is that video. 

Dance Dance Evolution

Yeah girl.

Songs: 

Woof Woof (Dan Deacon)
The Faraway Nearby (Cyndi Lauper)
Grass (Animal Collective)
Lights Out (Santigold)
Almost Crimes (Broken Social Scene)
Sprawl II - Mountains Beyond Mountains (Arcade Fire)
Kids (MGMT)
Summer Mood (Best Coast)

Greetings from Crown Heights, baby.

4-5 days a week I trek around the city with my backpack, tote bag, and yoga mat. I stay in Brooklyn with friends or on the Upper West Side with family, and then Laughing Lotus is my Chelsea home away from home. 2-3 days a week, I'm on Long Island with my papa and my brother, living in a sweet little cottage on a beautiful expanse of land. The two phases of my week are polar opposites, and I hover somewhere in between.

Shadows

Shadows
by John Cassevettes

Look at that beautiful face.

Note To Self: Your Life is Going to Change

Joana Smith is collage-maker, poem-writer, wife, mama, and who knows what else. She makes very interesting contributions to Elephant Journal. Check it: Elephant Mommy

Love Skool

This is my new yoga home. Laughing Lotus on West 19th between 5th & 6th. A beautiful, bright, vibrant practice space constantly occupied by big hearts, sweet beats, and declarations of love. I just completed my first weekend of fall teacher training with the Love Skool, which means I am sore, tired, and ecstatic. My teachers Dana, Sheri and Ali are highly skilled, dynamic teachers. My mentor is wonderful. My mentor group is incredible. My study buddy is so lovely.  

I believe my engagement in this program has significantly altered my approach to New York City in general. Instead of being totally stressed out and overwhelmed, I'm loving the constant flow of people and energy. This place is such an (im)perfect microcosm of the world: for every kind face there is a scowl; for every give there is a take; for every frantic movement there is a much needed, much appreciated moment of stillness and quiet. I am grateful to my friends for giving me their couches, beds and showers. My birthday weekend was all about yoga and loved ones. I went to the Brooklyn Book Festival and brunch with my dear friend Teff, then hopped over to the Lotus for a 5 hour training session with the otherworldly Dana, after which I headed back into Brooklyn and hunkered down in south Park Slope for a cozy little birthday celebration with Noelle, Camila and Josh. I slept soundly. I have a feeling I will be sleeping soundly for at least the next 13 weeks - the Lotus flow is an exalted, wild, purifying, exhausting beast, and I'm deep down in its belly.

24 Things for my 24th Year

I turn twenty-three in a half hour. The last year of my life has been strange and funny and difficult and beautifully tumultuous. I lived in a new city on a new coast, I made new friends, I felt new kinds of joy and new kinds of pain, and I learned a great deal from a few terrific people. Now I'm back in New York, and it feels like anything could happen at any moment. I've begun studying for my 200 hour teaching certification at Laughing Lotus, a super fabulous yoga center in Chelsea. And I'm playing with the idea of moving into Brooklyn. I'm listening to men shout in the streets of Crown Heights and I'm feeling happy.

I have drawn up a list for my 24th year.

You can only loosely plan. You can have a rough idea of what you'd like your life to look like, but at this point, so many things will inevitably shift and change and be gained or lost. There's no telling how it will all unfold, so it's best to be open and curious, at least in my opinion. But these are the 24 people/places/things that I would like to encounter in the next twelve months. 

1. New England/Canada road trip

2. Submit manuscripts 

3. Intern at literary magazine
4. Plan an extended trip abroad: Trans Siberian railway/India
5. Write an analytical paper

6. Become a certified yoga instructor
7. Preserve/can/pickle various vegetables & fruits

8. Write a screenplay
9. Write a collection of short fiction/poetry

10. Conduct an extensive interview project

11. Make a short film (or two)

12. Make a book

13. Take a solo hike in the mountains

14. Learn how to wear lipstick

15. Learn how to use a letterpress

16. Travel by bicycle as much as possible

17. Volunteer on a farm/urban garden

18. Learn how to give a good massage

19. Hold a successful, formal dinner party

20. Begin to pay off student loans

21. Thoroughly research M.F.A. programs in California, New York, Texas, Rhode Island, and Georgia

22. Conceptualize & execute a photography project

23. Read at least two more volumes of In Search of Lost Time

24. Nurture existing friendships/cultivate new friendships

Words I Say Too Often: A Work in Progress

Intense, like, totally, ridiculous, yeah, sure, understand, beautiful, dude, love, are you kidding me, guy, awesome, actually, god, goodness, gosh, funny, baby, kid, child, children, apparently, obvious, organic, Law & Order: SVU, yoga, books, passion, breath, sorry, how, guess, woman, sex, marriage, munchkin, but, darling, kind, food, what, country, and, water, unbelievable, amazing, incredible, true, right, money, will, thought, action, do, why, wish, believe, try, dream, gross, scary, oh man, should, terrible, horrible, crazy.

Love & such.

 

Elephant Journal article #6

 

On my second day home on Long Island, I woke up to a thunderstorm. 

Almost Home

More than halfway across the country, we have encountered brilliant sun, torrential rain, oppressive heat, and the slow burn of a Southern night. This is our trajectory thus far: down the coast of California, through the Redwoods, San Francisco and Los Angeles. (California is now home to a dozen of our friends and neighbors from Hampshire). Then to Las Vegas for one manic night. On to Albuquerque, through the alien landscape of Arizona and New Mexico. Then to Austin, where we saw another gaggle of Hampshire kids. Austin to College Station for two days to visit the lovely and talented Alberto Moreiras and Teresa Vilaros (Camila's parents) in their new house. Alberto now drives an enormous truck and Teresa wears a cowgirl hat with true grace.

After College Station we stopped for lunch in Lake Charles, Louisiana, to visit with our dear poet-rice farmer friend, Rachel Roche. We slept well in New Orleans and fell into the Cafe du Monde tourist trap in the morning (charming but lacks integrity). New Orleans is a place I will return to.

Now in Athens, Georgia, I am entirely stunned by how much I love this state in particular. California and Georgia are the two places that I have fallen in love with on this trip. The South is such a romantic(ized) place, and I'm a little bit frightened and very much enchanted by it. Camila and I have had exceptional hosts in each place we've stayed, but this Camp family (who live in a very beautiful home near Athens) makes me want to stay behind and hunker down and learn about what it's like to live in Georgia and read and write and listen and explore the land here. 

Yet we are still New York-bound, and leave for North Carolina early this afternoon. I feel deliriously glad about everything. 

Morning

by Frank O'Hara

I’ve got to tell you
how I love you always
I think of it on grey
mornings with death
in my mouth the tea
is never hot enough
then and the cigarette
dry the maroon robe
chills me I need you
and look out the window
at the noiseless snow
At night on the dock
the buses glow like
clouds and I am lonely
thinking of flutes
I miss you always
when I go to the beach
the sand is wet with
tears that seem mine
although I never weep
and hold you in my
heart with a very real
humor you’d be proud of
the parking lot is
crowded and I stand
rattling my keys the car
is empty as a bicycle
what are you doing now
where did you eat your
lunch and were there
lots of anchovies it
is difficult to think
of you without me in
the sentence you depress
me when you are alone
Last night the stars
were numerous and today
snow is their calling
card I’ll not be cordial
there is nothing that
distracts me music is
only a crossword puzzle
do you know how it is
when you are the only
passenger if there is a
place further from me
I beg you do not go