New York seems to be popping up everywhere. This week my mother in law is in town from Orange Country, New York. Last week Maryanne was in Sag Harbor New York. Last night the new clients I met were from New York etc etc. I guess you can say New York is on my mind. Here are some colors that I was drawn to when I was in the city last month. As always I love street scenes and checking out the latest art exhibit. I had the chance to finally visit Alana's new store ANGL which was even more beautiful in person. Alana and I went to MOMA and had drinks with my sweet friend Katie. If I could click my hills 3 times I'd be looking at some art with those babes right now. I have to share that my friend Taylor had the best instagram post explaining how she dreams in color palettes. I've never had someone explain that habit of mine before. It was so refreshing and made me want to share a thread of a color palette I followed and share it with you.
I went to the Motown Museum in Detroit on what turned out to be Juneteenth. How serendipitous. Detroit plays an important role in our country coming together. I was overwhelmed to learn what an impact a record company could have. During a time of great racial tension, Motown’s positive message and new sound gave blacks and whites a way to come together. I love that in a time of political strife they used music that was aspirational to build common ground.
They showed us concert footage of the 60’s and explained how concert halls used to be segregated. Even when they weren’t often at the start of the concert there would be whites on one side and blacks on the other. Then once the concert got going the crowd would mix, dance together and come together. It felt like a tale of musical revolution. Believe it or not Martha of Martha and the Vandellas joined our tour! How epic is that! We heard Martha sing a few songs on the documentary. She also let us know the ones she sang back up on too. She’s just as gorgeous now as she was in the 60’s.
(Love Is Like A) Heat Wave (1963)
Dancing In The Street (1964)
Along with the Vandella’s - the Supremes, the Temptations, the Four Tops, Marvin Gaye and Stevie Wonder released more than 180 No. 1 hits worldwide.
Also in 1963 Dr Martin Luther King, Jr. led more than 125,000 people down Woodward ave in Detroit for a civil rights march. This is where he first delivered the “I have a dream” speech. Which was recorded on the Gordy label of Motown records.
Abdul Fakir of the Four Tops, known as “Duke,” said in a 2009 interview “We looked at Martin Luther King and we thought, he’s doing the same thing on foot that we’re doing on the radio,” “I like to think that we were softening the blow for him a little bit.”
There are so many ways for our country to come together and in 2018 we need to. I love voting and marching but this trip made me wonder what are some ways we never even thought of? What beautiful artistic ways can help us to come together?
I love the song Say you, Say me by Lionel Richie
Say you, say me say it for always
That's the way it should be
Say you, say me say it together
When I hear this song I think
Say yes to you, Say yes to me
We are one. We are each other. When I say you, I’m saying me.
So let’s see that we are all Americans from a great country of immigrants. Let’s see ourselves in people seeking political asylum. Let’s know that we would never want to have our children taken from us. Let’s know that our families came from other countries to seek better opportunities. My family came from Norway and Ireland on the boat. I see myself in these brave people trying to make a better life for themselves. Just like I see myself in our amazing clients who are brave enough to stand in front of their friends and family and pledge their love and hope to each other in a message of peace.
With love and peace,
Suzanne, Mike, Morgan and the Wanderers
What if I collected images of when we were young, and now?
It’s been ten years, my love. We were young. The world was at our feet. One year, we traipsed around the globe so often, I begged you to leave me home for a trip to Australia, because I was too tired to go to the airport. Days later, we ran through the bush together, and marvelled at how wild the landscape became the second we got off the path. We were laughing, euphoric, and blissful to be in nature.
We realized, as dusk approached, that we didn’t actually know where we were. Eventually, you found our way back to the ocean while I came up with newspaper headlines about two dumb Americans who got lost on vacation one mile from civilization, and died.
The ocean was so loud and the moon lit our path. The strength of the wind made me grateful we had found our way back.
You couldn’t stop smiling, and kept hugging me so tight. We made out under the moonlight as the tide rose, and realized we were risking our lives for these salty kisses. We held hands, and continued on. It was one of the best days of my life.
We squeezed every last drop out of the day. That feeling of euphoria, gratitude, and wonder is the magic of falling in love with Mike Ofeldt. It is the grand adventure that is us.
I was at a party this weekend, and a friend of mine said he didn’t want to say how amazing his relationship with his wife is on social media. He just couldn’t see the point. It felt like bragging. What if instead, it was like shining a light on being wildly grateful, a snapshot.
Our fertility journey has taught me a lot. That life can be a mess, and there’s beauty in that too. This is our story. This is our heartbreak. There is an extraordinary beauty in telling people who you are, so they call you by your name. It’s tremendously difficult, but freeing. It helps me accept myself.
There is so much connection to the people who have read my story. I’ve shown them my heart. I’m wildly grateful for the outpouring of kindness and connection that I’ve received. For the friends that give me hope and strength to not give up.
This present moment holds an uncertain future, but ultimately some kind of knowing that we will survive it. Ten years worth of photographs of who we used to be when we were young. After awhile our memories fade, and then you might hear a song, and suddenly it’s like a movie is playing in your head. Falling in love with a man, and the whole world.
Mike Ofeldt, you still look like a movie. You still feel like a song. Your voice is home to me.
I love the things you do, the way you talk, the way you move.
Let me photograph you in this light in case this is the last time. That we may be exactly as we were when we were young. You’re like a dream come true.
Can I have this moment?
I want to take this picture of you and I and Jake so later I can look back at it remembering when we were young, and scared, and planning our IVF dates.
Wondering if there would still be eggs, wondering if we could ever finance a surrogate, wondering if we are completely insane, and preparing for the dunk tank of IVF hormones to come.
Hoping I’ll still come back to you, to me, and still holding hands wildly grateful for each other.
Wondering if we know anything at all other than fear and gratitude.
We are happy to offer three photography specials as a heartfelt thank you to those who support our GoFundMe fund to add to our family. We don’t know how we are going to get there or make this happen but we are going to walk confidently in the direction of our dreams and try with everything we have. Thank you from the bottom of our hopeful hearts. Please check back for regular updates to our progress.
A rainy night in San Diego is rare. Sometimes I am so struck by the water on my windshield and I often feel like I'm in a painting. I sometimes feel transported to the streets of Paris and think of Renoir but last night it was something else. It felt more modern and I loved every red light and the parking lot that was the I8. It felt a little like Pablo Neruda or maybe even Tom Waits. Maybe I was just feeling electric because I got a phone call from the Dog rescue that we could take Jake home. Either way traffic and I had a love affair last night. Thanks San Diego.
I sought that violin in the night.
I searched street by pitch-black street,
went house by weathered house,
star by star.
and fell silent
then suddenly surged,
. . . . . . . . . . .a flare
in the brackish night.
It was a pattern of incendiary sound,
a spiral of musical contours,
and I went on searching
street by street
for the dark violin’s
the source submerged in silence.
at the entrance to a bar:
a man and his
. . . . . .hungry violin.
Ode to a Violin in California by Pablo Neruda