From Brooklyn to Manhattan

One overcast day in January, we walked from Brooklyn to Manhattan. Nearing sunset, the light made greens and grays off in the distance stand out amongst the collection of buildings and the brick, steel, and wooden slats contrast against the light sky above and moving wheels below. That day, for the very first time, I saw New York City from the outside looking in. 

Read more about our New York Adventures here: Grand Central Station, A Grey Morning at Coney Island, House of Small Wonder, To Being Adventurers, The Brooklyn Flea. 

In This Little Pattern of Houses

Winter is definitely still winning, and although the cold is wearing, how refreshing it is to step outside and walk around my neighborhood. I realize I won't always live in this little pattern of houses, so its important to me to notice the subtle things that one might otherwise just pass by. Like the homes with old red brick, some revealing cracks, others covered in ivy, faded yet steadfast against the bitter cold winter and extreme heat of July. Or the trees with roots and a fullness that says they've been there longer than the families that live only meters away, grown to shelter the streets, provide shade in the summer, a fluttering of leaves and piles below come fall, and a stark silhouette against the setting winter sun. 

Its important to notice these things, and store up little anecdotes like how that one house always has that one dog, and how come night or day, rain or shine, he stands watch just waiting to stick his damp charcoal nose through the fence and let me know who's boss. Or how the bookstore down the way always has a Barbara Kingsolver title setting in its window display, reminding me of my favorite tales of family and daughters in her book The Poisonwood Bible, while also nudging me to finish my never-ending read of The Prodigal Summer. And how the alleyways are like little galleries, a collection of street art, or plant art, or patterns of burnt and ash against walls that have taken their stand on these Denver streets, through and through--seeing their fair share of trash, ferrel cats, and broken glass sparkling, scattered, reflecting the bright Colorado sun.

Its important to package it all up, so I don't forget. Its important so that I can remember to be thankful for these winter walks, in this little pattern of houses, on these days where the sun always seems to be two hours ahead--where I am chasing it, asking for one more hour, one more glimpse of warmth. Winter is still winning, and when I catch up to its setting sun, I see the beauty of its early slumber, the melancholy of the winter night sounds, and the hope that winter instills--of warmth, of growth, of Spring.

Study It, Love It, Stay Close To It

Kansas was good for me. It took an otherwise fast paced girl and put her in a slowed down state. The outdoors can do that to you, and I am forever grateful for its hold on me...

I can't stop thinking about this quote by Frank Lloyd Wright: "Study nature, love nature, stay close to nature. It will never fail you." I love that those words come from one of the most famous architects and interior designers of his time. Not a farmer. Not a cowboy. But an architect. I think he was onto something--that true ability to hone in on one's creativity has its roots in nature. At least, it does for me. Entirely. The more I am in the great outdoors, the more I am able to see creativity indoors. Creative or not, wide open space clears the mind, sorting out all that gunk and making room to focus on what is at the core. Have you ever had a sinus infection? They are the worst. Clarity fogs, sharpness slugs, and joy dissipates in light of annoying stuffed up gunk. We get like that in life. We get stuffed up, like a sinus infection, and our joyful, sharp, clarity of mind becomes hard to grasp. We get run down. We burn out. Yet the cure? Wide open space. Time outdoors. The sky above, grass below, the wildness of nature and all her living beings. I had that clarity these past few days. And I want to hold on to it, hold on as tight as I can.

Rooftop Blues Party | Photography

When my friend Aubrey asked me to photograph her and Matt for their Christmas card this year, I was one so flattered, and two thrilled. You see, if I'm completely real, I wish that photographing people was my job (that, or any work that captures the beauty of life). I love capturing moments in such a tangible form as photographs. And for my first official request to play photographer, it was perfect because Aubrey is super dynamic and pretty much a dream to photograph with her joyful personality overflowing on film. And her and Matt's love for each other is as clear as day. She wanted a downtown setting, since their lives are completely centered around it, so when Aubrey planned a rooftop birthday celebration at Denver's Museum of Contemporary Art, it was pretty obvious where these photographs needed to be taken - on the rooftop. This is just a little sneak peek. You can see why I loved photographing these two. They're adorable and the setting (that wood!) was just to die for. 

(all photographs taken by Lauren Tien)