All posts tagged: Photos

A Luminous Photograph with a Story to Tell

It’s a photograph no one else but me could have taken. My mother didn’t take it, that’s for sure. She was great in front of the camera, her rightful place, and pretended — feminine wiles, how quaint — not to understand how to depress the shutter button on a point-and-shoot. My ex-husband was a distracted photographer with an artsy eye that didn’t translate to family photos. Twenty-five years later, no, Philip, I don’t remember whose earlobe that is. But Philip didn’t take it. I’ll describe the image. My daughter, Sophia, is three. Her hair is summer blonde and flows. She is wearing a yellow dress that is now packed in a bin marked “Girls,” in the basement of my building. My father, Tom, is 67. He is tanned and grey and rugged, with a big dad head, square and block-sturdy, the kind of dad head you don’t see much anymore, who knows why, something to do with the internet? Craniums diminish to accommodate next level evolution? I don’t know. Anyway, my father with his big …

TueNight Live: Photos From Our Night of #FAIL

This edition of TueNight Live was a disaster! A flop! A miserable wreck! We jest — it was just our stories about tragic jobs, bad (and smelly) dates and persistent pain that made our evening one big FAIL. For this edition, we huddled into the gorgeous Friends Work Here co-working space in Brooklyn, gabbed and drank with our readers and writers, and enjoyed a riveting, emotional, hilarious evening of snafus and storytelling. Here are a few snaps:                                        

The Final Reunions I Never Had

There are reunions you look forward to in life. For these gatherings, you plan to lose a few pounds ahead of time, book hotel rooms and rekindle memories by looking though old photo albums and yearbooks. And then there are the impromptu reunions. They are the unplanned, emotional and raw. I keep an altar of sorts on my nightstand. It’s a place to reunite the spirits I love. The ones who were taken from us too soon. *** I met my friend Chris Vicente in a Nazism and Fascism class in college during our junior year at Penn State. He had just returned from a semester in Rome, and I was immediately drawn to his Euro style: the horn-rimmed glasses, the bouffy, big 80s hair and a fabulous fashion sense. We didn’t know each other, but figured we should. And that’s how the friendship started. Turns out we shared a birthday (July 8), a passion for life, dancing and a love of men, although I didn’t officially discover that Chris liked boys until much later …

Just A Moment: Ok Doggies

Ok, ok, I’ll get up to walk them, feed them, bathe them, pet them. Ok, ok, I’ll bundle up when I’m sick with a fever to take them out. Ok, ok, we’ll go for a walk even in a snowstorm or a downpour. Ok, ok, because no matter my mood, my health, my energy level, Dailola is always there for me, unconditionally. Dailo makes me feel ok and Lola, she makes me feel pretty damn ok, too. (More on Dailola)