Author: rachelvb

  • Claire is here! Claire is here! Claire is here!

    On Sunday, I am meeting dear Claire. Her blog is here if you don’t know her from blogland. But most of the people who read here do, I think. Anyway, she’s a wonderful painter, writer, woman. She’s had a conference in Phoenix and is finally done with her presentation and it seems horrible that I…

  • Comatose

    I can tell I’m not tapped in. I can tell I’m only skimming the surface. My brain has all the gear: the wet suit, the tank, the flippers, but it knows right now if it dove in it would most likely drown. So it’s grabbing a Sol with lime and basking in the sunshine and…

  • "Mad Girls"

    “But she did learn a key New York lesson: that if you push as hard as you can, you will, for better or worse, learn things about yourself you would never have otherwise known.” Great article about a new book on Sylvia Plath from Slate

  • Walkabout

    Pat and I were at the pool Saturday. I took a banana, some strawberries, Marie Claire magazine with Keira Knightly on the cover; slathered myself up in the sun. When you’re rich and make your own schedule, you can disappear in Europe for months at a time. That’s what I learned about Keira Knightly –…

  • Focus

    The sky is from my last airplane ride. The buildings, this morning. This city can be eerily quiet at times. But the sun always reflects in waves over the brick. Quiet and gilded. And my rides home when it’s late enough to be dark. Tired. Music keeps the crazies away. Keeps them quiet in my…

  • The only way you can write the truth…

    “The only way you can write the truth is to assume that what you set down will never be read. Not by any other person, and not even by yourself at some later date. Otherwise you begin excusing yourself. You must see the writing as emerging like a long scroll of ink from the index…

  • Tuesday. Good Morning

    A stranger sighs warm parchment on the back of my neck. A woman, bald with cancer, sips vodka through a big gulp’s blue straw. The man next to her tries everything within his power to zap his body from the conversation – he even gets off a few stops early. “Where are you going?” she…

  • For in this world …

    “For in this world, time does pass, but little happens. Just as little happens from year to year, little happens from month to month, day to day. If time and the passage of events are the same, then time moves barely at all. If time and events are not the same, then it is only…

  • Barren

    From the woven fabric of my yellow shirt I discover I’m a messenger. Carrying seed through the day’s reach point to point street to street a small life clings – a burr on a wing Cactus, poppy, weed? Pluck it off, I’m unfit for Spring

  • I can complain. And then I can't.

    It’s official – our social life has died. Pat and I said goodbye to Alisha last night. I don’t really feel like writing about it other than to say that if she were here at work today we’d probably talk about how the 8th floor smells like spicy potatoes, how cold it is in NYC,…