like things

When I was younger, I used to swap letters with my cousin Dahlia in Israel. I've still never met her - and we don't write anymore.

One of her letters still sits in a box on the floor in my spare bedroom. It's old and tattered because I've read it at least a million times. We started writing out of the blue...I guess because we just wanted someone new to talk to. Or we were annoyed with the idea of being family members and not knowing each other. She sent a list of things about her. But it was an obscure list. Like how she loved the smell of a peeled orange and other deliciously specific things that I can't quite remember at this moment...

It's one of my favorite things, that letter... Because she probably doesn't like half of the things on it anymore. But there they are...pieces of her, pieces of time, right on a piece of paper. That's why I write. It's pieces of time on paper - that can't be erased.

I've written lists before, but I started thinking of all the - somewhat - obscure things that make me all warm and fuzzy. And frankly...I needed that.

- The perfect pen & paper combo. Preferably a heavy weight fountain pen and soft, thick paper. Shopping at places like Kate's Paperie...looking at rows and rows of paper and walking out with a small bag dangling from my fingers.

- Coffee. It seems obvious but I love everything about it. The fact that it starts out as a bean, different shops, different roasts...frosted, iced, black, latte, espresso, instant. I should really take more time to learn more about it.

- The way Kim's daughter, Madison, giggles and smiles at me when I hang out with her. And how she puts her little hands on my face - as if to figure out what I am.

- Art. When I was in high school it was Suerat & Monet. Now, I stop and notice my grandfather's paintings more. His strokes, how calculated they were. And photography - I love photography. And Pollock. Seeing the Pollock @ the MOMA in NY was a highlight. Pollock is like a worn out white shirt, comfortable and full of history.

- Homes with hardwood floors, wraparound porches and ceiling to floor bookshelves.

- Hebrew. I wish I spoke it more fluently. But I love to hear it.

- The perfect Sunday morning... A walk at dawn in 50 degrees, until my legs start shaking. A bagel w/ zatar, scrambled eggs w/ onions, peppers, tomatoes & cheese, turkish coffee with sugar and cream and CNN.

- I love the smell of newspapers.

- Watching movies in the dark.

- Canal Street in New York City...and Central Park, where the benches are lined up like soldiers. And Zabars. And New York City.