Isn't it Romantic?

Photography: Unknown

Photography: Unknown

Do you picnic?

I have always liked the idea of throwing a blanket on the grass or sand, kicking off the shoes, letting the wind blow through my hair as I ate at the thought of the beauty that surrounds me, but realistically, I have never found them enjoyable, or comfortable for that matter. They are made for movie moments that I wish would feel just like they look on the big screen.

At the end of the day, just like sex on a beach, the idea of it all is always better then the reality. I fail to feel the romance of it all. How about you? How often do you picnic? -tM

So Granola, But I Dig It!

Photography: Unknown

Photography: Unknown

Those of us who live in the city, sometimes feel like we are going to melt into the heat and humidity often find ourselves wishing for a little pool relief.

This little innovation reminded me of just that. Hippy Chic, bathtub in the ground, and voila, a wadding pool that will last as long as the bathtub remains crack free. Cooling down is essential in summer months, and this is clever. -tM

Childhood Summers

Photography: Thomas Hoepker

Photography: Thomas Hoepker

My mind has turned to childhood summers, as a way to mentally shield myself from the lack of sunlight and chilly temps these last few days. May we all take a moment to reveal in that freedom, adventure, and urban corner store freeze run; remembering when the days felt as long as our shadows, and where friendships were as important as life itself. -tM

A Farewell to Summer

Photography: Unknown

Photography: Unknown

End of August heat waves bring with them a different kind of fire.

The August heat sits heavy on the tongue, for you know that soon enough there will be no words for the loss of summer. So you become more tolerant of her dress, and accepting of her humid air that longs to become water itself.  Leaving the fevers of July behind, the end of August brings with it a solemn farewell to idle days, and to promises made on the wings of freedom, on those endless summer nights. -tM

Midsummer Truths

Lone Gentleman

The gay young men and the love-sick girls, 
and the abandoned widows suffering in sleepless delirium, 
and the young pregnant wives of thirty hours, 
and the raucous cats that cruise my garden in the shadows, 
like a necklace of pulsating oysters of sex
surround my lonely residence, 
like enemies lined up against my soul, 
like conspirators in bedroom clothes
who exchange long deep kisses to order. 

The radiant summer leads to lovers
in predictable melancholic regiments, 
made of fat and skinny, sad and happy pairings: 
under the elegant coconut palms, near the ocean and the moon, 
goes an endless movement of trousers and dresses, 
a whisper of silk stockings being caressed, 
and womens breasts that sparkle like eyes. 

The little employee, after it all, 
after the weeks boredom, and novels read by night in bed, 
has definitively seduced the girl next door, 
and carried her away to a run-down movie house
where the heroes are studs or princes mad with passion, 
and strokes her legs covered with soft down
with his moist and ardent hands that smell of cigarettes. 

The seducers afternoons and married peoples nights
come together like the sheets and bury me, 
and the hours after lunch when the young male students
and the young girl students, and the priests, masturbate, 
and the creatures fornicate outright, 
and the bees smell of blood, and the flies madly buzz, 
and boy and girl cousins play oddly together, 
and doctors stare in fury at the young patients husband, 
and the morning hours in which the professor, as if to pass the time, 
performs his marriage duties, and breakfasts, 
and moreover, the adulterers, who love each other truly
on beds as high and deep as ocean liners: 
finally, eternally surrounding me
is a gigantic forest breathing and tangled
with gigantic flowers like mouths with teeth
and black roots in the shape of hooves and shoes. 

-Pablo Neruda

Hot, and Sometimes Bothered

Photography: Robert Herman Black | SoHo Heat Wave, 1978

Photography: Robert Herman Black | SoHo Heat Wave, 1978

The heat has a profound affect on people. With heightened senses and drowned out the logic, people say and do a lot of things in the summer that they don't mean in the winter. 

As hot summer days turn into nights, the humid air finds comfort sitting on the skin, like a wet light, salty in observance of the days finale.

Strongly uncomfortable at times, the heat pulsing through the city is summer deep.

I want to rise above the stagnant air, yet in months I will long for summers embrace.

The experience always proves to be different from the memory. -tM

Swimming Pool Culture

For those of us not fortunate enough to live by the ocean or a lake, pool culture, especially in the late 70's to early 90's, was our way of dipping into an entirely new movement. Life was cool by the pool, public or private, it was a place to lounge, show off our bodies, flirt, and if you were a kid, to be independent of worry, as there was no getting in trouble for the decibel level with which you chose to exert your freedom at.

It was a place of mental and social relaxation, a cultural smorgasbord, which translated into a space of liberty where you were at ease to talk to others from all walks of life.

Something happens when we gather around water, it's as if we know that life is bigger then us, our defence's seem to take a back seat as we begin to move to the rhythm and pulse of its spirit.

Life is better by the pool, it's sexier, it's easier, and at times even chicer. -tM 

Photography: Vogue, 1978; Unknown, 1960, 1978


Photography: Unknown

Photography: Unknown

Hot summer nights, mid-August, 

"Like conspirators in bedroom clothes, we exchanged long deep kisses." - Pablo Neruda (excerpt from The Lone Gentleman paraphrased)

Weeks of boredom satiated by momentary eclipses of lust and happy pairings.

Cigarettes after sex, your lips, my lips; definitively seduced. -tM