life-size

Did you ever think to yourself… “I am in need of a manikin. Yes, a life-sized anatomical human model is what I need.” Well you are in luck my friend. While walking on in the garment district (clearly), I found this store entirely dedicated solely to manikins. Awesome. And of course… one must document. Now, I don’t think I’ve ever actually been to a manikin store per say. I mean, I’ve been to stores that have manikins on display, but never an entire store of just manikins. And may I say, I that this is a pretty nice one… as manikin stores go.

So strike a pose, hold it for eternity, and enjoy.

That's one large man....

Well friends, I know it's been over a week since my last post, but before I start posting some NYC pics for you again, I wanted to post one more from somewhere between Estes and Eire CO. Now I know people love to decorate their yard. There is a family in my hometown that wins the Tackiest-House-on-the-Street Award every Christmas. Or, for one reason or another, every Easter someone feels obligated to buy one of those huge blow up bunnies who’s ear tower about 3 feet over the first story window of the house. I know, we, as a society have a need to make the outsides of our home “pretty” or “decorative” or “insert other descriptive word here”. I mean, just think back to High School. We would plaster the inside and outside of our High School locker with magazine pictures, snapshot, school spirit junk, what have you… but what I don’t understand is why, WHY would anyone want a HUGE statue of … of …. this guy? in their front yard?

I will now remove myself from my soapbox and bid you goodnight…

-but before I do, please notice the very angry dog in the photo… they did not like the fact that I was there… and because of that, I would not get out of the car.

also... he's hold a pitch fork... think about it people....

Redrum....

Well Colorado was awesome…

beyond awesome. Our gracious host took herself, me, and my 3 other close friends all over the beautiful state. Making a stop in Estes, we went to the Stanley Hotel, otherwise know as The Shining’s Outlook Resort. Needless to say, there were several “Here’s Johnny!” quotes and images of blood being poured from the elevators into the hallway. And after a day of being in the Rockies, we settled in for a nice relaxing evening of watching The Shining. Well, as relaxing as Steven King will allow. And we came to the conclusion... yeah, it's not the same hotel. And after doing some research (thank you google) that our good friend Steven wrote the book using the Stanley Hotel as inspiration. Eh, good enough for me. So I bring you a few photographs of the Stanley Hotel.

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

Holga

I have it, I finally have one! I finally have an over priced junky toy camera that I will have to ghetto rig with duct tape and cotton balls, but it’s mine.

Having been photo major, I’ve had the opportunity to work with a variety of photography equipment and cameras. One of which was the Holga. I fell in love with its poor construction and termer mental ways. You don’t use a Holga for perfection. Ooooh no, you use to see how everything came out, (if it did come out) and for experimentation, and light leaks, and overlapping of exposures…. and because you look funny using it.

Sadly, being of the “digital” generation, you can’t find film at just any corner store like back in the old days (and by old days, I’m referring to 1997). But I will strive to find the correct 35 mm and medium format film. Through out my year of posting photographs through out the city or wherever I may be visiting, I will now be carrying my lightweight friend with me to capture the unique world around me. I’m excited to test this baby on the high mountains of Colorado of which I am currently headed to as we speak. Yes, a weekend with awesome friends and a piece of plastic that take photos… this is the life.

Side note: the flight attendant just told us that the bathrooms are currently not working, and to use them in dire emergency, and in a pleasant nature… ha! That’s what I like to hear when I’m on a plane…. Awesome.

So my readers (mom) get excited for some Holga action!

Going East

This week, I walked out of my little apartment, took the 1 train to 59^th, came above ground, walked to the bus stop, got on the cross-town bus and took it East, as east as you can go on our little island without going for a swim. It amazes me how drastically the neighborhoods change in a matter of feet. China and Italy are divided by a fire hydrant. Hypsterville & Yuppytown are divided by a Starbucks. You tell someone to get out of town and all they need to do is round the corner. I love it. So as I was taking in the unique appeal of the Upper East Side, I came across a blue door. And just stood in front of it for a few minuets admiring the cobalt charm.

So today I share with you, the blue door.

The Attack of the Giant Flowers

Don’t Worry! Little Shop of Horrors has not taken over the East Side. No my friends, these are not alien flowers looking for blood and total earth domination. These are beautiful 25 foot flower sculptures on the malls of Park Ave from 57^th to 67^th. “The Roses” by Will Ryman decorate beautiful Park Ave giving us hope of spring (and we are ready for it!)

So sleep sound my friends, we will not be hearing the soothing voices of plants begging “feed me Seymore… feed me!”… but if you do, you may want to get that check out…

A Presidential Excursion

Well, since we had a long weekend, I headed out to the homeland for fun with friends and family. Ah yes… New Jersey. Home of the Jersey Shore, Giants Stadium, and yours truly.

I had a lovely dinner at my parents house and spent a good amount of time at a friends house in the ever-so-busy Blairstown NJ. Our plans were to go hiking on Presidents Day. However, do to lack of sun and 6 inches of snow fall the night before, our hike was put on hold and HG TV was our entertainment for the day. We did go out on to Main St in good old B-Town and walked around. So in today’s photographs I bring you Blairstown in are patriotic red, white, and blue.

Brooklyn

".. Ah Brooklyn, Brooklyn take me in.

Are you aware the shape I'm in?

My hands they shake, my head it spins,

ah Brooklyn, Brooklyn take me in..."

Avett Brothers, I & Love & You

Mermaids

After many years of searching… I found it… a mermaid. Ok, not really.

But when I was a little girl I had one dream… to become a mermaid. As Ariel from Disney’s The Little Mermaid was desperate to get out of her oceanic world, I was desperate to get in it. I would swim in my pool with my ankles crossed pretending they were fins, look for seashells and try to wear them as a bra (cause apparently that’s the correct mermaid attire), and grow my hair long, wishing it were red. I learned all the songs Ariel sang to Eric and I imitated that one scene, about a million times, where she lifts herself on to a rock when a huge wave comes up behind her, right at the peak of her song. Epic.

But alas, I have two legs used for walking more than swimming, realized wearing a seashell bra was not only ridiculous, but painful (you know you tried it), and came to terms with the fact that a girl who has a Chilean mother, will never have natural red hair.

Just like Ariel, I’ve come to grasp with my reality of where I belonged, her in the sea and I in New York City. **Side note: I wasn’t living in the city when I realized I would never be a mermaid. That would mean I held on to the idea of being ½ woman ½ fish for 25 years… Come on people.**

But whenever I come across an image of one, like this one a in vintage store front window on West 25th St, I can’t help but smile as I hum to myself the chorus of A Part of Your World.

I hope everyone is coping well with there post-valentines-day-sugar-withdrawal.

In Honor of Valentines Day Weekend.

I bring you rice, in the shape of a heart.

Ah yes, the day of St Valentine is upon us. The day where an incredible amount of flowers, chocolates, and overpriced cards are purchased for those we love. Why? Because it’s V-Day and from a young age, we are taught, nay, encouraged that this what you do on V-Day.

Remember the days when you were in school and you made V-Day cards for everyone on the class? Mine usually consisted of Saved by the Bell themes with Zach Morris or A.C. Slater on the front of it…oh Zach Morris… my 5^th grade crush. Oh, yes, those were the days. And of course you made one for everyone in the class so no one was excluded. But as a friend of mine reminded me over lunch today that the “cool girls” always got the huge, elaborate ones, while everyone else got generic ones. But that didn’t matter. When you looked in your 3^rd grade makeshift Valentines mailbox at the edge of your desk, you have one from the cute boy in the class. (as did everyone, but still…)

Alas, we are no longer in the 3^rd grade. No more cards with Screech asking you to be his Valentine, no more checking your designated cubby for those peto-chalk hearts with hard to read message on them.

However, if you go to a Thai restaurant on the Upper West Side on the weekend of Valentine's Day, you can get a little V-day surprise in the form of heart shaped rice. And let me tell you … it was delicious.

Happy (pre)Valentine’s Day Everyone!

Fools

This was a sticker on the side of an emergency police and fire call box. How could you not take a photo of this?

….till tomorrow!

Incase you were wondering…

They grind their own beef.

Do to the lack of the Internet service over the past few days, I haven’t been able to post. So to make it up to you, I give you the photograph of the “We Grind Our Own Beef” restaurant… you are welcome.

I’m not normally on the Lower East Side but my new yoga class is on St. Marks Street, a pretty sweet part of town that’s… well, kind of trippy. While on my way to the class that will make me topple over in due to my lack of balance, skill, and grace, I passed by this local burger joint. I thought to myself that I was glad that I now have this new bit of information about the beef grinding and I knew it would make a huge impact in my day… that’s a lie. It won’t. However, I was happy to find out that after an hour yoga class I can run across the street, get a few piercings, a quick tattoo and devour a delicious home ground beef burger all on the same block.

You know your mouth is watering.

p.s. Please note how awesome that cow is!

They’re Here!

Last week I ordered my new Five Finger shoes. And today they came!

Can I run in them? Yes. Can I do Yoga? Yes. Can I hike and climb and swim in these babies? Yes. Is my best friend annoyed at the mere sight of them? YES! (which in my opinion is an added bonus) In my attempt to get healthier this year, I am planning on running a few races with friends of mine. So in order to get ready for these healthier changes, I got these new shoes and a yoga mat. Now that I’m equipped with… well, my “equipment”, I will be attending my first Hot Yoga class tomorrow after work. I’ve done Yoga before, but never “Hot Yoga”. They’re going to be cranking up the heat up to about 90 degrees and make you sweat it out while doing ridicules poses… oh and don’t forget to breath.

So anyway, if you interested in learning more about these awesome shoes that define all of my lovely toes, go to this website:

http://www.vibramfivefingers.com/barefoot-sports/

You’ll looove them too.

Super Bowl!!!!

Well, if you’re a true blooded American.. or a ½ blooded American... or someone just here , you were probably watching the Supper Bowl last night. I hope you enjoyed the pizza, the ½ time show (oh Fergie Ferg), the game, and of course, the commercials. I must say, the one with the kid dressed like Darth Vader was one of my favorites. Oh and the one where the Doritos bringing things back to life…. Classic.

Any who, this picture has nothing to do with the supper bowl. Sorry true blooded Americans.

It is however; a picture is a giant Hulk, wrapped in a tarp in an ally. Obviously.

Just for Kicks

Sickness has taken over my body, and I have been in bed for pretty much most of the day. So, instead of taking a picture of the inside of my messy apartment, I leave you with a photo that I took a while ago in Salem, Massachusetts.

I know, it’s weird… that’s why I took it.

Enjoy.

And behind door #11….

I know today’s picture is a door, just a normal door. And it’s not even a great picture of a door. But what I want to tell you about is not the door itself, but what is be hind it, and the answer is…..

A Rooster…

Yes , I said a rooster..

...a living, breathing, crowing animal which you normally find on a farm. Did I mention that it likes to make loud noises at early hours of the morning? It does. At first, I didn’t believe it was a rooster and thought I was making up noises in my head. Then I thought it was just a rooster alarm clock continually being snoozed. Then my doubts were laid to rest one morning when I was walking down the stairs. Apartment 11’s door opened and although I did not see the bird with my eyes, the sounds were loud, real, and clearly identified as farm birds crowing, bawking and flapping wings. I stopped in hesitation for a few brief seconds in slight disbelief and considered for a moment, which Arrested Development chicken impersonation would be the best for this situation.

You may ask, “Wait, I thought you live in the city?” Yes, you are correct. I do live in the city. I live in a big, crowed city, in a pre war building, up 4 flights of stairs…above a rooster.

…. Am I alone in this?

Covered in Ice

This morning, I woke to the sounds of freezing rain hitting my window. Then I walked out into the freezing rain, wadded in curbside puddles and climbed over mountains of piled snow with an inch thick layers of ice over everything. I walked about a block or so and thought, “Nope… in need rain boots”. So I slipped back up to the slippery top of my block and walked back up the 4 floors to my apartment and changed my normal boots for a pair of waterproof rain boots to take on the rugged terrain. Then headed back out onto the sheet of ice that was my sidewalk. All the while, thinking…. I wish I were in my warm bed. But alas, I made it to work and made it back home after work.

I bested you ice! I walked all over you today and you did not affect me… ­victory!

… Although because of your low temperatures and constant precipitation, I’m now sick….

You win ice…. You win.

Question: What to do with an old sock…

Answer: …you throw it out.

OR you could do what these ladies did and make a living out of it.

I was walking down the street and I came across these women setting up shop on the curb. I asked if they would mind if I grabbed a quick picture of their stand and they were nice enough to let me. Now you may think, “Kyle, (an old Boy Meets World reference) why would I want to keep an old sock around?” I’ll tell you why. Because you can make a sock puppet out of it… or better yet, you can just throw yours out, give the nice ladies on 86^th & Broadway $30-$50 and buy one that is already made for you with a clean sock. Ah yes… behold the difference, a clean sock... and they have those fun googly eyes, which I feel is the difference between a sock puppet and SOCK PUPPET!

Well-done sock puppeteers! Well-done!

The dog that stole my shoes, in a manner of speaking.

So, in case you happen to be some of those lucky people in the country who haven’t been hit with massive amounts of snow, you may not know that New York has currently accumulated more than its share of the fluffy white stuff, which has now, turned to soppy brown stuff. Which brings us to the topic of this picture…

…. These are dogs… wearing shoes… dogs….wearing shoes…

Now, I understand the premise of this and in actuality, it’s not a bad idea, dare I even say smart idea … I dare. This way, your dog is not tracking in all the, what was once lovely white fluffy stuff, all over your cramped, over priced apartment.

Still…. These are dogs…. Wearing shoes. I mean, it just BLOWS MY MIND shoeing a dog. So many questions come to mind. How many pairs do you get them? Do they have one for every occasion? Is it hard to figure out which shoe goes on which foot? “No honey, that one goes on the back right and you have the front left on the back… oh just let me do it..” Or did these dogs dress themselves? George Orwell’s Animal Farm talked about this…. Four legs good, two legs better!

And I’m sure, all the dogs that have the lovely shoes beg (yes I went there) the real question…

”Do these shoes make me look fat?”