I used to live here. That doorway where the woman is standing? 128 St. Mark’s Place, right around the corner from Avenue A. It was a crappy 400 square foot garden level studio that was 3 blocks away from art school and a centrally located meeting point for all the East Village characters in my life back then. Funny, but I realized that I hadn’t walked on this stretch of St. Mark’s in well over a decade. It’s really hard to walk around this neighborhood and not feel a lot of nostalgia, but Friday it felt fitting to walk down those streets that at one time felt like home, but now often feels so removed from what it was like back then. I was in the neighborhood on Friday night because I accepted a spontaneous offer to see Echo & the Bunnymen with Anna from Door 16 and I suggested getting dinner at Yaffa Cafe before the show and we both said “YES!”.

I think my first visit to Yaffa was in 1988. A friend I had met in art school, who would later become my boyfriend, took me there on Halloween before we headed to a party and we sat down next to a guy in an octopus costume playing the piano. It wouldn’t be my last visit to Yaffa, particularly since I ended up in that studio just a few doors down, but it had been a good 20 years since the last time I was there. I was happy to see that the place really hasn’t changed AT ALL. The same kitchy decor, the same mural in that massive backyard, the same sunshine burger platter. Who knew that back in ’88, this place would be considered “Old School East Village”?

As for the concert, Echo & the Bunnymen was a band that I was really into in high school, right up there with the Smiths, the Cure and New Order. I even drew a large drawing of the band in pencil, a copy of the cover from their self titled 1987 album, and taped it onto my big black portfolio that all the art majors lugged around in high school. I had never seen them live and knew they were playing in NY, but didn’t really know anyone who might want to go. It was a total right timing/coincidental fluke thing on twitter when Anna said she had an extra ticket for me and really, I can’t think of a better person to go to an Echo & the Bunnymen concert with, can you?

The band sounded phenomenal, but OMG people, I am old. And not because I was the oldest person there. On the contrary, I actually felt kind of young in that crowd and that’s not something that happens very often anymore. But with my back problems I was in serious discomfort standing around in one place for 4 hours, and so was Anna. Apparently we weren’t the only ones in pain as the dude in front of us kept stretching and squatting with his hands on his hips. You never know what kind of crowd you’ll find at concerts, but there’s usually a guarantee that the people will be entertaining. We were standing directly next to a group of guys who looked and acted like they were at a Jets or Packers game and not so much like they were at a post-punk, 80s Brit pop concert. They high-fived each other after ever song and gave each other frequent man hugs. I may have even heard an “I love you, man” uttered once or twice. It was truly the single most amazing display of male bonding I had ever seen. They were sort of annoying in that they were loud and rowdy, but they knew every single word to every single song and was therefore awesome in one sense, even though I would have rather heard Mac’s voice sing the songs than theirs. I just kept trying to visualize what these 5 guys might have been like back in high school. Who knows, maybe they were like any of the guys I went to high school with, but they were clearly in love with the band and each other and having the best time reliving their youth, just like almost every other person there that night.

Good times (minus the back and leg pain, of which I am still recovering from).

I meant to write this post for Mother’s Day, but it was pretty nice not dealing with the internet or this blog or twitter or facebook for a couple of days over the weekend. I recommend it.

Now that the girls are a bit older, I sometimes imagine what kind of mother/daughter relationship I’ll have with the girls when they’re both adults. Will we be close? Will they feel like they can come and talk to me? Will they feel like I can understand them? Relate to them? Be there for them? And then I ask myself the same questions about my mom. It’s such an interesting journey, that relationship with your mother. My relationship with my girls are still so young, but the one I have with my mom spans 40 years. See that photo up there? I was probably around Claudine’s age, 4. I remember looking at these series of photographs a lot when I was a kid because I made a different goofy face for every picture of this photoshoot. Even back then I wondered why I couldn’t keep a straight face, not for a single photo.

I can’t remember whether or not I’ve told you that I was apart from my mother between the ages of 1 and 3. My mom has accomplished a lot of hard earned, impressive entrepreneurial feats in her professional life. She is fearless in that regard, but she always used to say that she is not brave when it came to her personal life. I’d say leaving your firstborn to come to an unfamiliar country all by yourself when your baby is only a year old takes some balls. My mom is also the most generous, selfless person I know, but if there was ever a time in her life when she was selfish it’s when she left, but I know now that she had to be. So I’d also say that leaving your new family to save your own life, in a sense, and maybe – just maybe – even your baby’s, is brave. Now that I have kids, I can’t imagine being apart from my girls that long and that young. Those are some crucial bonding years right there and I’d have to think that the reasons to leave, not all of which are known to me yet, run deep and hard.

I don’t know how that absence has affected me throughout my childhood, but what I do know is the earliest memory that I can remember as a child is arriving in New York with my dad and pushing my mom away. I remember pummeling her with my fists and pointing to the sky, yelling that I wanted to go to back to the mother I knew at that time, my grandmother, who raised me during those years. I can also remember the very first nightmare, which became a recurring one, that I had as a child probably when I was about 4 years old. I was laying in bed in my room and I saw someone poke their head in my doorway. When I looked up, the face was covered with a brown paper bag with 3 crude cutouts for the eyes and mouth. It frightened me and I can still picture clearly what that brown bag face looked like. When the person took the bag off their face, it was my mom.

Aside from those early turbulent memories, I’d say that my relationship with my mom became pretty solid. She was a great mom to me and my brother despite all the things that went on in our dysfunctional household, and I know she worked hard to hold the family together. We don’t have a buddy/buddy relationship, then or now, and we have never been great about talking to each other about our feelings, but I know that our relationship has always been good.

We’re still working on it though. When I see my mom with her mom, the woman who raised me as a baby, I think about how long and deep their history runs. My grandmother also left her family at some point when my mother was young. I’m not totally sure, but at some point, her and her 4 siblings may have been parent-less for awhile. No one really talks about the past much; my family has always been about looking ahead, so I can only piecemeal the few stories that I have. But what is it about family that makes it easier to forgive, forget and try and repair rleationships? I know that’s not always the case, but I see how my mom is with her mom. I see how she is with my dad. For the most part, despite the past, we are all still together.

So now it’s me and the girls. I don’t have any unrealistic expectations that we’ll act like best friends when they’re older. First of all, the age difference between me and Mia is a full 10 years older than the age difference between me and my mom. I also don’t want to try and be hip or cool or whatever. I just want to be their mom. But I see shades of the future as well as my past self when Mia’s in a grumpy mood and won’t talk to me. I don’t know if she’s far too young to dismiss her feelings by telling me “it’s nothing”, but it sort of scares me. Like a lot. So I have to learn how to talk to her so she opens up to me, just in the same way that I have to learn how to talk to my mom. Because no matter what – and this I’ve learned from experience and observation – you don’t ever stop being a daughter, or a mother.

The High Line doesn’t look like this anymore, by the way. These photos were taken a few weeks ago on a warm day, but the landscaping was still wintery bare. I was at the High Line again on Monday and it was completely different, lush and green. Late spring is in full swing here. It actually feels a bit like summer and I can’t remember anymore what the long winter was like. Isn’t it weird how that works?

I like coming to the High Line to think (you know during the week when it’s not so crowded). The view of the water on one side, the traffic literally beneath you on the other. Somehow it works. Despite being surrounded by buildings, it’s peaceful and strangely calming, but the view is also weirdly disorienting. You’re not on street level, but you’re not on roof level either.

These days, I’m feeling like I’m “in the middle” a lot, just like that view. I’ve probably mentioned this before, but I feel most calm and secure when I’m crazy busy. Anything less is unsettling even though I’ve expressed the desire to work less this year. Who wants to be stressed and overworked all the time? But I’m comfortable with that scenario. It works for me. When I don’t have that, I’m lost. But right now, there really isn’t enough time to take on a huge project, but just enough time to stop and think.

Yeah, I know. Make things happen. Don’t overthink. Working on that.

Sometimes you just need to get away, online and offline.

Some final outtakes that didn’t get included on the website.

Been thinking a lot about the business lately and what it means to take the next steps. I haven’t made it any secret that we’re finding it difficult figuring out how to grow, and I think part of it is because we are doing “fine”, making steady income from the business every month, and Mark’s been able to rise to the challenge of whatever workload has been thrown at him. But I know it’s not sustainable for any long-term growth plans. I find jumping into next steps far scarier than than actually jumping into business for the first time.

It was raining. It was the only day this week, of course, that the weather was supposed to be windy, wet and cold, bookended by warm sunny days on either side. But who else gets to go on a fancy cruise ship around lower Manhattan, owned by one of Claudine’s classmate’s parents, as a field trip? Parents, teachers, nannies, grandparents and kids all danced to “Empire State of Mind” and the city in the background, no matter the weather, was magical.

There were quite a few of you who asked to either tag clothing posts or write more about style. I don’t really “have” a style other than I believe you should wear whatever makes you look and feel good, and since I don’t like being photographed, there’s not much to tag! But I did buy this dress the other day. I don’t really wear that many dresses, but this one’s pretty perfect, don’t you think? I got it at Madewell, but I don’t see it on their website so I don’t know what that’s all about. Also these sandals…they are knockoffs, I guess, of Swedish Hasbeens that I bought at Urban Outfitters over the winter for about a third of the price. I know I’ll be wearing them almost everyday this summer. And the baubles – the smoky topaz ring I’ve had for years, the jade ring my mom recently gave me (don’t know if it’s real jade, but I don’t really care much about that stuff), the leather studded bracelet that’s perfect because it actually fits my skinny wrists (I have a hard time finding any bracelet that fits) and the earrings, one of my Odette NY birthday treasures. This is what I’m wearing these days. What about you?

Hello Spring. Hello, all you gorgeous pink blossoms. And hello, crowds.

I’ll admit, I can’t remember if we ever went to the Cherry Blossom Festival at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden before (that’s what happens when you get old, you know. You start forgetting stuff). I also think this to be true because I would think that I’d remember all the Cosplay dress up action, you know? Can someone tell me when this all started? I don’t really get the connection between the two, other than the festival being a celebration of Japanese culture, so hey, let’s dress up as anime and manga characters and walk around the gardens yielding larger than life cardboard samurai swords. Whatevs. It was cool. I guess if I was 17 again, I’d be right there dressed up in some anime goth get up, but I’m telling you…next year? I’m dressing the girls up appropriately, because if ANYONE looks like an anime character, it’s Claudine. Especially with her big round head and especially when she runs. She’s a dead ringer for any Miyazaki character.

So aside from the thousands of people who showed up to claim precious lawn space on the Cherry Esplanade, it was surprisingly relaxing to chill in the sun despite the crowds. The Cherry Esplanade, btw, is the ONLY place in the Gardens that you can sit on the grass. Don’t believe me? Try it. Sit your butt down anywhere grassy but the Cherry Esplanade and I guarantee you a security guard will appear OUT OF NOWHERE and tell you that you can’t sit there. I don’t really get the rule except maybe they want to ensure that the lush grassy lawns stay that way all season, but yeah, we totally got busted. The girls got busted a second time for shaking one of the cherry blossom branches so that the petals fluttered down, but they weren’t the only ones. I saw people all up in that action pulling branches down so they can pose for photos with burst of blossoms right next to their faces, or shaking branches to make it snow petals on their toddler’s heads for that magical Kodak moment.

So we all crowded together on that lawn and the adults drank beer and the girls hopped around to neighboring groups of people, offering them imaginary Easter eggs, whether they wanted them or not. My friend Megan even got stopped by a fan who used to watch her on her GlobeTrekker TV show because it was on 1 of the only 2 channels that he got on TV. They posed for a photo together and then Megan made a joke that he should have been watching Samantha Brown (who, coincidentally, lives in my condo) instead. Girl, and you wonder why people always bring her up?

It was a good weekend.