Posts
the loops // PROCIDA // gianna // accidentally biking the entire east bay bike path // homemade sourdough pizza // rosemary tornelli with apertivo // bolsena, again // spike ball with teigue and john at india point park // india point park every single day // mark doty // cape cod // biking with heather // the ripest cantaloupe // go-karting for dad's 60th // grad formal // fleabag // alligator anxiety // craigslist rug // thunder in florida, that deeply familiar sound // briley's enthusiastic sea turtle lecture // sea turtles in the moonlight on the beach // aly & shona, their laughter // manatees and green flies // heavy palms, almost as heavy as the air itself // homemade strawberry granita // "the heart is a repository of vanished things" // the scent of orvieto – old stone, jasmine and overly-perfumed italians // my tower apartment, all to myself // un cappuccino e due biscotti // catherine's head at san domenico // focaccia con pomodoro in foligno // breakfast with emma in munich // HELFTA // sister pauline and sister christiane // els' eyes, the spirit of god // bored afternoon trips to intimissimi // frantumaglia in one weekend alone // "to tolerate existence we lie, and we lie above all to ourselves" // evenings at barcaro with austin // prosciutto tortellini with arugula made on our hotplate, over and over again // discovering the upstairs patio at febo // meeting austin at the orvieto train station // getting to share somewhere i love with someone i love // how i always feel most beautiful in italy, sun-kissed and sweaty // the nuns outside of buon gésu: your face, a sacrament // the patio at freni e frizioni in trastevere and all the free food // and rome, a city i barely know and deeply love // the blue glasses at cassetta nonna maria in procida // aperol spritz // the velvet green of the ocean in procida // riding the waves // cat's eye blue // ludovica and insalata di limone // seeing donato sarratore // a carafe of rosé with melissa // scraping together coins for the church carnival down the street // train to philly // jia tolentino // buck meek // how this could go on and on
such a strange summer of such overwhelming joy and also a turn of despair – but it's too much, all of this. i do not know where it ends. i could keep listing good things – and keep thinking: it's too much.
[our kitchen at cassetta nonna maria, mamiya 7]
