Bright Lights

Does the chef realize what a very traditional, nay, old-fashioned, bakery he's standing in front of? His expression suggests he doesn't think very much. 

Trailer Park was made to look trashy and retro on purpose.

When I go to lovely blogs like Merisi's Vienna and visit Demel's, I'm stunned by the contrasts.

New York has stunning energy and elegance in other places.

Even so.

The pizza parlor on 9th Avenue shouts NEW YORK.

Beer, ATM, Lottery. What more could one ask for?

A patriotic light in the barber's window.

I totally forgot to put in a poem for today's silent reading.

Anyway one of my favorites when I was a romantic young girl.

An oldie but goodie.

The Golden Journey to Samarkand

Prologue

by James Elroy Flecker

We who with songs beguile your pilgrimage

And swear that Beauty lives though lilies die

We poets of the proud old lineage

Who sing to find your hearts, we know not why,

What shall we tell you? Tales, marvellous tales

Of ships and stars and isles where good men rest,

Where nevermore the rose of sunset pales,

And winds and shadows fall toward the West:

And there the world's first huge white bearded kings

In dim glades sleeping, murmur in their sleep

And closer round their breasts the ivy clings

Cutting its pathway slow and red and deep.