This is one of my favorite images of Marilyn Monroe: lolling in a doorframe, awash in green, and decked out in a fur, a hopeful little strawboat hat, and a dash of lipstick. I imagine her seducing the precipice of spring as only she could. This time of year, as snow falls outside my window for the eighth time in a month, I cling to such glamour. It’s the sort only someone with Marilyn’s infectious capacity for joy and appreciation could muster.
Now that my co-creator and I have completed the onerous tasks of le apartment rehab—sanding, plastering, painting, sawing—we’re onto the details. Where, you know, g-d lies. This morning I rewired a lamp myself by following a YouTube tutorial, cleaned out a dusty 1920s filing cabinet by googling “remove and clean shelves” and, using lemon rind and baking soda, degreased my grandmother’s 1940s Fiestaware–as recommended on a cleaning website. The Internet has legitimized its existence. Today.
Today is my birthday! I firmly believe birthdays are New Years Day for each soul that’s chosen to live on this funny place we call Earth, and so what we do on them sets the tone for a whole year. Already I have been writing, drinking strong coffee with cream, and shaking a tail feather to smoovegroove R&B while raising my toothbrush to such astrotwins as Cindy Sherman and Dolly Parton. Love this life madly with all its scars and stars, so glad I’ve made it thus far, and looking forward to sharing bright light with even more of you in my new year. I am always very grateful to write this blog, and so appreciative of all who take the time to read it.