Dear Diary,

The necessity of regular communication seems to have suffocated the art of it. We text to make dates and appointments; to make lists and add on to them; to see who is picking up milk on the way home.

But messages can also be playful, silly, thoughtful, a connection across busy schedules that ties two people together and creates common ground. 

For us, this is sort of how it goes.


When something catches my eye

(remember those photographs of ballerinas at home, those long strong legs looped over the backs of chairs, en pointe in the kitchen with a cup of coffee?

–or the graffiti of Afghanistan’s first female street artist–)


Or something touches my heart

(the old house scheduled for demolition overtaken by mad performers during its final hours, the paint splashed on walls like defiance, the sculptures created in pools of Christmas light?

–or the ten identical apartments, all decorated differently–)

Image result for sacramento's art demolition


Or provokes my curiosity

(remember the article about jasmine, the flower, the scent, so convoluted I had to read it twice, like a map whose compass kept changing with the weather?

–or everything Rube Goldberg–)

Image result for jasmine flower

When I send these things to you,

a link or a text

or a cuddle on your lap 

It means I want to show you how I see the world

And bring you something beautiful

To discuss over coffee or in bed or as we wander through the streets of Sacramento seeking a destination

To anywhere.

Image result for couple in bed

So go on, take it

Take another little piece of my heart

It’s yours–


and sharing it with you

makes the whole world seem

a little bit brighter.






Ballerinas at Home: & also

Afghanistan’s First Female Street Artist: &

10 Identical Apartments, 10 Different Lives:

Sacramento’s Art Hotel:

The Smell of Jasmine, the Calm of the Crowd: