Tuesday, January 28, 2014


There seems to be something quite primal about these games we play. Girls everywhere do it, it's a ritual we even see in animals. There is the touching and the feeling, and the showing, and a surprising amount of unspoken intimacy. It feels like there is so much hidden behind these games. 

Thursday, January 23, 2014

no. sleep. till brooklyn! photo post

look what just popped up on our way to capoeira.... you gotta love brooklyn

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

on new beginnings, photo post

I had the pleasure of meeting and photographing this little one last weekend

Wednesday, January 8, 2014

This is as close as I’m going to get to feeling like a rockstar

my bro and sis being actual rockstars….
photo by Carlos Infante Rivera

People always complain about how hard motherhood is. And by people I mostly mean me. But there is a short grace period. Somewhere down the line  when you stop being a bugger carrier and before you become an ignorant source of all evil, that sweetspot where you can do no wrong.

If I had a wish it would be to be able to see myself through the eyes of my  6 and  7 year olds. So you get an idea, just the other day they had a massive fight over who sang better, me or Katy Perry. Not sure who won. My smile was so wide my cheeks actually covered my ears.

When I sing they listen in awe. When they ask me to draw something they are always impressed

- “how do you draw so well?” (PS, I don’t, really)

I know everything. I know what words mean. I know what religion is. I know important things like how the actor from home alone is not really called Kevin. That what happens in that story is fiction not history (I even know what fiction is), and who Justin Bieber’s real-life girlfriend is (like, for real life).

The other day I tried to pull off a self-description of “tall and skinny” to the reply of:

- “you are not skinny mom, you are the cuddliest”

they can even make “chubby” sound like the best compliment ever.

So I’ve come to terms with the fact that this, now, is as close as I’m ever going to get to feeling like a rock star. A gorgeous, wondrous, near-genius that can do no wrong. And I plan to enjoy every second  of it. I am even considering recording bits so that I can throw it back at them during the dark ages, otherwise known as adolescence.

Monday, January 6, 2014

December family portrait, the morning after

My initial plan was pretty much this but the BEFORE version. We would have been all dolled up in out party gear, make up, etc. 

Didn't happen. 

So instead you get the day after.  Hangover, black eyes and all. It's still december because everyone knows that January 1st doesn't count. 

Sticky staggered steps, inane smiles
Delusions heap on shaky chairs
Warm thoughts of warm beds, pillow piles
The party's over; no one cares

Red eyes, crooked hat, voice a croak
Chats hanging, half said, swaying stares
Last round of whiskey for the blokes
The party's over; no one cares

Cold air washes faces, sharp brain pain
Hugs, kisses, new couples, old pairs
Door shuts, bubble bursts, way too caned
The party's over; no one cares

Rock the handrail, rap righteous thoughts
Stumble, Christmas lights, garish glares
Glass eye locks in, the image caught
The party's over; no one cares


The family self portrait  project started in January 2011. 
I take one portrait of the whole family, myself included, once a month.  
The poem is a 2013 addition by a "ghost" writer

Every family should do this. 

To see previous months click on the links below: