lately, I’ve remembered what it’s like to put on some jams & get lost in thought thinking of nothing, daydreaming a blank.
psych-punk, pop-punk, dreamy garage riffs, the stuff that feels nostalgic and new at once. the stuff that you don’t think too much about, you just dream or dance.

lately I’ve been into winter greens, or, rather, winter rainbows. made a salad of rainbow chard, red kale, chickpeas, feta, smoked chicken and prom-queen-pink watermelon radish.


and rosy-gold aperitifs with cocchi rosa americano, sweet vermouth, soda & an orange twist recalling italy–the land of premixed, bittersweet campari & soda in a little glass bottle, available for purchase at espresso bars.

there’s something whimsical about apertifs; they’re elegantly understated & reserved, yet, cheeky, light. they wink.
they’re an exercise in balance, and a splash of fiery orange or vibrant pink–or even the dusky yellow of lillet–mediates the mid-winter blues.

lately, I’ve been into negative & positive space, the interplay between light and dark, bright and pale. finding the intersections, parallels and divisions between mood, emotion and sensibility versus intellect, the analytical, the measured, the staid.


film still: the final scene in antonioni’s the passenger


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