is here. <3
I’ve been staying in the home where I grew up. It is a quiet part of the city near a canal. Today, I discovered a bookshop barge. I suppose it should be expected that things change on the water. They say you can never go home, but I disagree. Old homes are like old wines more delicious with age, but still perhaps not wise to overindulge in.
If you live in New York and haven’t been to the Studio Museum in Harlem, do it. It’s a beautiful, intimate space. Large museums like the Met are vital, but I find gorge on art and soon can’t taste any of it. A smaller museum can be experienced entirely.
Afterwards I had tea with almond milk with my lovely museuming companion.
Other favourite small museums: The Folk Art Museum, The Museum of Art and Design, The Neue Gallerie. What are your favourite small museums?
So it has been a while since we spoke. It has been a while since I last saw an old friend. A friend of nine years past. Recently, an airline lost my bag and my camera. The replacement encourages me to look at this with new glass.
I miss a person.
But I know that when I leave this place, I will miss it here too. Do you know how that feels?
Song for An Able Bastard
I wish I loved an honest girl,
Unseeking and unsought,
Whose lips were soft as they were shy,
And not as they’d been taught
I wish— but what’s the use of that?
The only She in town
Is not so honest as she’s fair—
She’s light as thistle-down!
And that’s my luck, for I was born
When a March moon was mad;
I wish I loved an honest girl-
I wish my father had.
Eric Linklater (1899-1974)
Reading Scottish poetry in honor of my current location. But not all Scottish flowers have spines.
The above are only a sample of the vast contents of my bag. My doctor tells me to bring water and sunblock. Photography demands a camera. My art teacher says carry a sketch book everywhere. My writing teacher advises a novel and a notebook. Fashion magazines require mascara, coverup, foundation. (But I have given up on those.) Life asks for a phone, money, keys. The physiotherapist frowns.
What do you bring on your travels?
I’m still in Taipei, it is a strange and lovely place. As varied as any city.
Night & Day:
Note the three little dogs in the basket.
Sometimes, when you are in foreign place it is the tiniest things that count. I’ve been in Taipei for two days, and of course, I take pictures of all the wrong things. A small flower at the bus stop, cynical cats, an apartment block on a grey day. But these are the things I want to remember the small sweet pleasures. The beauties that I can hold onto.