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somewhere over the rainbow (and other stories)

  Exactly two years ago I found myself flying through a corner of a rainbow, and landed in Oaxaca, Mexico. It was the last film festival I traveled to, a brutal and sweet experience in the harshest of realities, trying to wrap my arms around the slipperiest industry and failing magnificently. Surrounded by fresh faces and eager eyes I ran from the rooms and into the street time and again, wandering off with the camera in my bag as a companion. I took pictures of a blind man that sang on the same corner every day, of wedding parades, of an old woman waiting to see the dentist.  Literally somewhere over the rainbow, I met the ugliest answers to questions I had been dragging my feet towards for years. Cramming the most delicious food into my mouth, joking at the nightly rooftop cocktail parties, grinning like the Cheshire Cat it was all coming to an end. Actually, it had ended before it even started though - and on the plane back to New York and finally Moscow the bone-crunching ...
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heavy weighs the crown

I've been living on the 9th floor of a building that resembles a castle for a week now. There is a little grey kitten that sometimes sleeps on my feet, but more often makes a lot of noise in the middle of the night. There are giant windows that look out on a hard black sky, and double plumes of smoke curling slowly towards the stars. There is a half-broken chair in the kitchen. There is a washing machine I'll eventually have to figure out. I need dishes and light bulbs and forks and spoons. I need to get the drain in the bathtub working better.

I understand why divorced and separated men become so depressed. Somehow, they must pay for everything their family requires, and take care of themselves at the same time. Waking up with empty beer bottles, hoping the milk is still OK, hoping they have coffee. Hoping girls still find them funny, attractive, interesting. Looking in the mirror, sucking in your gut, wondering how your socks never seem to match.

The sky glows a pale blue now. There is a hard, crisp snow falling. It makes little bell sounds against the windows. The cat pushes against my feet.

My daughter's toys and clothing litters the floor and I leave them there, to feel like she is just in the other room.
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