late for an appointment

Sean, a noted Brooks Street surfer who masters his skill, was gracious enough to flash us a smile despite his real interest: excellent waves.

ocean tides

Even on an overcast day like this one, the tide draws you in. Here Olivia runs for the ocean, sans her wetsuit. This is the beach at the corner of Brooks Street--historic surf spot.

past imagery

Five years ago I gave up the life I knew, I left New York for California. In New York there were nights that began after 9:00, the constant clanking of great shoes against marble entryways on route to some routine event that, now, is quite fabulous in comparison to the relaxed life I chose. Though, back in New York, I was happiest in my home in East Hampton.

My mother was amazed when she visited us in Laguna Beach, struck by the similarities of my current home to my home in East Hampton. Both are clapboards painted in barn house red. Both are vintage, built with such things as breezeways and potbelly stoves. Though East Hampton is distinctively East Coast, with its windmills and third generation run hardware stores.

This little wall in Red Tide is my love letter to East Hampton. There is a by the numbers painting of a lighthouse, which is probably not the Montauk lighthouse I grew up with, spending an afternoon exploring, but it works. There is also a framed envelope written with my former home's address, enclosed was an invitation to an event. This envelope was pure art, so beautiful it deserved placement in a unique frame my father found at a yard sale. The creator of this lavish envelope is Bernard Maisner, who is arguably the world's best calligrapher. As I traded one ocean for another, I can still be reminded of where I came from.