Fig II. Leaves, branches and bricks, vibrantly red.

Fig III. A greyscale study.

Fig IV. Stone and mortar

Fig V. Car-cicles. Pretty but not for eating.

You know the moment? The one where you’re supposed to come back with a witty retort or the perfect comeback or the snappy zinger that is so obvious 10 seconds after? I had one of those over the weekend when I stepped out of my bedroom at midnight onto the back porch to the sound of raucous laughter.

“Hey, would you guys mind keeping it down a little?” I called to the upstairs neighbor’s deck.

Silence fell swift and heavy. And then came two words, barely audible in the darkness.

“Fuck you.”

They hung in the silence, brilliant as a pair of malevolent fireflies. It was the moment. And I was frozen. In the space of a few seconds, a conversation played out in my head.

Anger: “Yeah? Why don’t you say that to my face instead of just muttering it in the dark?”
Sarcasm: “Really? That’s the adult response to ‘please be quiet’? Is that what they’re teaching in Behavioral Psychology these days?”
Pride: “Don’t be rude in front of their friends. It’s disrespectful.”
Spock: “It is highly doubtful that returning anger with anger will result in either your desired result or a productive conversation.”
Practicality: “Speaking of desired result, they seem to be quiet. Looks like whatever you said worked. Let’s go to sleep now.”

“Thank you.” I said and turned to go inside. As I opened the door, I was followed by some more muttering that ended with the words “Screw you.”

“I wonder if she thinks I can’t hear her?” I thought.

I’d like to say that I then fell right asleep and forgot about the whole thing. But I didn’t. I tossed and turned most of the night and woke up completely exhausted. A new group had joined the running conversation in my head.

Anxiety: “Maybe I should have said something. I don’t want people talking to me like that.”
The Oracle: “You already decided what you should do. The question is whether you know why you did what you did.”
Oprah: “She must be full of hate to act like that. I kinda feel sorry for her.”
Sofia Vergara: “Why are jou spending all jour time theeenking about her? Jou should be theeenking about jourself and how JOU feel!”
Me-at-Fifteen: “Finally, some validation that the whole world really DOES revolve around me.”

Completely disgruntled by my utter failure in the moment, I consulted my friend Sherin, a writer, a child of the genteel South and one of the gifted few who seem to always have a politely witty retort at the ready.

“Well, I might have said ‘Thanks for the offer but, as I’m trying to get some sleep, I’d appreciate if you’d just keep it down for now.’”

Sherin SMASH! I think I might have just added a new part to my repertoire – InternalSherin, can I introduce you to InternalSpock? Here, let me get you some wine.. just make yourself at home…

Hey, it’s not schizophrenia until I start talking back. Out loud. And somebody notices. Repeatedly.

The students in the picture above came from the New Community for Children and had painted one of the new window murals decorating the Convention Center. They even got to help Mayor Fenty paint one of the murals before going on an arts walk to see all of the murals and meet the artists.

I noticed a couple of kids were interested in me and my camera and so I asked them if they wanted to take a picture. Of course, the answer was yes. So, that’s me showing Jordan the proper way to hold a camera – the photo is courtesy of Ruth Chan, director of the NCFC.

They’ve surprised us with sacks of free plums, occasional peaches, asparagus and rhubarb; taken in packages, helped with freecycling, and (this is the best part) invited us over for dinner.

Tonight’s menu was spinach salad with feta, red onion and cherry tomatoes with homemade vinaigrette, spanish tortilla (in the pic above – recipe forthcoming), and peach, blueberry & rhubarb pie (inspired by my own peach-blueberry recipe – whee!).

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Folks coming over to my house easily spot the parts that represent me – the massive Japan photographs on the wall in the kitchen, the collection of tiny, plastic toys overflowing the mantelpiece – and those that represent Wayne – the Red Ryder BB gun hanging over the fireplace or the chinup bar in the kitchen doorway. Our house is fairly sparse (one of the advantages of having a tiny place is the built-in resistance to acquiring stuff to fill it) but it is both ours and a representative of who we are, as defined by how we use & ornament its space.

Certainly, if people can look like their pets, why can’t they look like their home? You won’t find any comparison photos of spaces and homeowners here (I often meet the owners of a space I photograph for AirBnB but I rarely photograph them). But, what does a space tell you about its inhabitant?

In two days, I photographed nine apartments from the top of Manhattan in Harlem to Prospect Park in Brooklyn. What they all shared in common, whether a tiny studio in the Village or a spacious one bedroom on the Upper East Side, was a sofa (or something like a sofa). Some of them were big, wraparound affairs and several were futons but they all defined where the “living room” was and denoted a comfort zone for guests and friends. Is it fair to assume that folks looking to host other folks are likely to have company over often?

All but one of the sofas had cushions, as well. In tiny spaces, little accents like this are like that pinch of fresh mint, crumbled and dropped into iced tea. They are the final pieces that pull everything together.

I found candles in every apartment I visited. What is it about candles that we love? They sure don’t beat electricity for toasting bread or lighting a room. And yet…

And not just regular candles either – sometimes large pillar candles, small scented candles in lovely antique jars, even a family of color-matched candles suspended above a dining table on a sheet of glass.

The evening sky reflected in a huge mirror. In small spaces, mirrors magically make a room feel bigger. I found them everywhere and in all shapes and sizes.

Another mirror shot – this time in a bathroom rather artfully delineated in black, white and dark teal. Lots of color in nearly every place I shot (except one which was all white – do the people provide the color then?)

Even if they didn’t have a TV or stereo, every place I photographed had a collection of books.

I was really delighted to find this tiny collection of herbs and vegetables on a fire escape. It reminded me of home.

Plants were a running theme as well – I found them tucked away everywhere – flowers in windowsills, herbs on fire escapes, leafy greens on stair landings, even lovely red tomatoes on a rooftop patio.

A lot of places had a staging area by the front door – a small table, a plaque of wall hooks or just a simple keyhanger, like this one. The bottom ones were mine for an evening in the Financial District.

Camera notes: Canon EOS 5D with 28-80/2.8 zoom, 1/60-1/90th/f8.0 @ ISO800 with hotshoe-d 580EX II set at ETTL. Some shots with flash compensation. Some shots (herbs, stair landing, flowers, books) with no flash.