Wondrous Weekend

The weekend graced me with Brooklyn calling me back and greeting me with gorgeous brunching girls, family food festivals, promenade walks at sunset and days spent in bed. 

Thank you, Jesus for a glorious ham egg and cheese croissant for under $6.00.. 

gotta love Brooklyn Brunches.

The Lebanese Festival is a tradition every year. I visit lovely Joy and Ian at their gorgeous apartment in Brooklyn Heights and we go together. This year I brought my dear Ashley along and we had such a wonderful time! 

For those of you who don't know, I am Lebanese and felt so strangely at home with my people. The food was such a comfort to me and the oddly familiarity was warming to my soul. 

Maybe next year, you can join us. 

info here

Dear adorable, goofy guy that took this picture, 

I know you thought we were a tourist family from England, but we are not. We actually are not related and Joy and Ian have New Zealand Accents.. not English. But, thanks for being chatty and hysterical. Maybe we will see you again next year!

The Brooklyn Promenade was breathtaking as the sun went down. 

Yesterday, I spent the day in bed, resting, letting the warm breeze relax me.. watching the second half of Jane Eyre (EXQUISITE!) and then reading the last several chapters of the book and swooning all day. A lovely, relaxing sabbath.. exactly what I needed to start my week.

More Brooklyn Love

See below: 

A lovely poem that strikes me every time.  Written by,

Dear World, Inspire Me.

Brooklyn||NY||Manhattan

Awake, I rise and see in front of me

my

new

york

city.

Stunning in grandeous beauty and glowing in anticipation of the hugs streaming in from neighboring towns.

The city,

the city

the city... yearns to be loved.

Perfectly spaced inside the 11 by 8 foot frame a top a castle tower in the sky

I am mesmerized and inspired by your possibilities.

Awake, I walk out the door and into you my dear dear brooklyn.

Fresh in your winds that cover me,

I submerge myself in your love and allow you to cleanse my armor.

As I walk to your tunnel, I see the familiarity of Junior's and brooklyn's sweet sweet demeanor.
my guard let down,

my heart smiles.

Protected, I bask in the moment.

My lil'vessel transports me

in

and up

and out on to the bridge.

Connecting me to my city as

"these arms of mine"

queues up in my ear and new york city devours me.

It is a love hate with you new york city.

You push me

to bring change

but

brooklyn

pulls

me

home.

To the familiarity and solidairty of roots.

my roots.

my cultura.

my patria.

Typed into my birth, I read

Glenmore avenue,

east new york,

jewish hospital of brooklyn

Typed into my present I read

Manhattan Avenue,

upper west side,

property of columbus circle sunsets, central park sunrises.

Save me.

Choose me.

next stop, 42nd street Times square

I gasp in the internal dialogue that consumes me as I walk out.

4 stops off De Kalb, 20 minutes and I am in the thick of it.

Out of submersion I hear you say

"stay with me baby".

But where?

where

my

new

york

city?

is it you

or is it Brooklyn

that

calls

me

home?

On this crisp morning in April I'll never know

but tattooed into my skin that bears the signs of your brass air

i read.

I AM NY and NY is me.

For The Love of Brooklyn

Brooklyn. 

My first real adult apartment out of college was a 2500 square foot, artist studio loft, shared with two artists, in Brooklyn.

I was living in a room with canvas walls, and a massive, frosted, screen-less window that peered across an alley and looked straight into another artist's loft. I would wake every morning to see a stunning black woman wearing flowy skirts climbing ladders to reach the hight of her canvas with one of many pain brushes. 

The loft was situated between Carrol Gardens and Park Slope, just far enough from each to be defined by being "around the corner from the South Brooklyn Casket Co. and across the street from the Russian Mafia." 

I loved life in Brooklyn but hated the constant tension of feeling so far from Manhattan. I am one to fully live where I am. I hate commuting, I hate living somewhere and sleeping someplace else; I hate always wanting to be home, but home feeling so far away. 

For now, I am a Manhattanite, but perhaps one day, I will fully live and love life again in Brooklyn. 

Today, let us take a moment and celebrate Brooklyn and the pure joy of this delightful borough. 

http://fortheloveofbrooklyn.com/

above images found here

above images found here