failure is everywhere

New Podcast

The book Mountains Beyond Mountains: The quest of Dr. Paul Farmer, A man who would cure the world, tells the story of one doctor, Paul Farmer, M.D. who founded Partners in Health to address the lack of health care in poor communities throughout the world — his first facility was built in Haiti over twenty years ago. I am thoroughly enjoying this book. During a Q&A at a Dartmouth First Year Lecture, he said: I prefer to surround myself with people who are not afraid of failure, people who take risks. Failure is everywhere and is nothing to be afraid of. (i am paraphrasing).

This statement moved me and I wanted to share it with you along with this declaration I came across last week-ish on WordPress. To me, the only failure is not trying at all.

Failure Manifesto

Failure is your fault, no fault, default. Failure is mistakes, double-takes, roller skates. Failure is missing it, missing hits, missing shit. Failure is melting, yelping, coping. Failure is blurry, worry, Murray. Failure is weeded, needed, pleaded. Failure is soon, womb, swoon. Failure is here, near, fear. Failure is choosing, losing, musing. Failure is old, cold, on hold. Failure is halting, salting, waltzing. Failure is ouch, slouch, pouch. Failure is love, shove, sort of. Failure is new, boot, pig snoot. Failure is broken, spoken, woken. Failure is finding, binding, winding. Failure is burn, yearn, kern. Failure is dropped, chopped, topped. Failure is pure, sure, bonjour. Failure is hate, late, dinner plate. Failure is sudden, wooden, couldn’t. Failure is power, cower, shower. Failure is yours, soars, dinosaurs. Failure is human, Newman, rumen. Failure is glorious, tedious, part of us. Failure is beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

The images are from the walls at Eyebeam Studios in NYC.
It’s watermelon season:)


saturn day trip

boy, time sure flies by…this post has been on my mind since i attended the 4th Annual New York Art Book Festival a week ago but for some reason, i am just updating it now. it is almost 2 am and i should be sleeping but i am not. i am what some people call a “night owl” without the wings, however.

it’s been over a year since i made a trip to queens, new york. when i discovered that the the NY Art Book Fair was being hosted by P.S.1, i jumped at the opportunity for a date with my camera and private thoughts. that’s a lie. initially, i asked my good gal friend to join me but at the last minute she bailed so i made the journey alone. no worries, i can make it to queens on my own. it took me all of 3 hours to actually leave the house but i made it to the C train with plans to catch the V train to my final destination. yeah right. it was not that simple for many reasons: one being that this is freakin’ new york city and simple is the complete antitheses of anything nyc; secondly, it was raining baby kittens; and lastly, the V train ‘does not run on the weekends’.

did you know that? i did not.

anyway, after catching the C to West 4th St. then the F to 34th St., and finally the E to 23rd Street (in Queens), i arrived three blocks from MoMa’s P.S.1. i could have gone to Ithaca, NY in the same amount of time but that was not part of the plan. the festival itself was a baffling labyrinth of artists, tables, books, stickers, magazines, curious folk and their counterparts who appeared to be as lost as i was. after such a lengthy journey, i felt compelled to have at least one meaningful conversation before leaving the clamorous space. i had two actually but this is the one i remember most. i met a man who is a photographer who takes photos of other people’s photos then puts them into a category and makes small square-shaped books containing these images. hhhmmm. intriguing … kinda. i gathered that he was making a statement about true art vs. contrived art but i could be way off.

it didn’t matter cause i was ready to hit the streets again in search of something to devour (i.e. eat).

i exited the red brick edifice in hopes of finding a ‘cute’ cafe that carried the perfect afternoon snack. no such luck but directly caddy corner — or is it kitty corner — to P.S.1 sits a heavily spray painted building that screams, Photograph Me Now!!! which is exactly what i did.











truly incredible work by a few of the aerosol artists at 5Pointz!

my day was far from simple but it was totally enjoyable and enlightening at minimum. my journey home was even more adventurous with a stop to union square for some fresh vegs and fruits and to Whole Foods for a bag of sweet clementines. i also listened to the latest zero 7 album, yeah ghost, which served as a lovely travel companion. new york city stole my heart yet again on a saturday afternoon; and despite the fact that i returned home with a sore throat, i felt inspired by seeing something new and bringing home images to share from my trip to saturn – i mean queens.