This morning I found a set of old polaroids buried in the bottom of my archive trunk and just as the details of this shoot have faded in my memory the polaroids have as well… I look at this delicate creature framed so sweetly in this old mansion and now, after all these years, I think of her as a beautiful bird in a cage, waiting to fly out into the light.
Tucked away along Manhattan’s museum mile are the sweet summer evenings on the terrace at the Museum of the City of New York.
Watch the sunset over Central Park, sip an Old Fashioned and slip into the tunes of bygone times… Last night’s Live @ 1220 Fifth
Must you sing of days gone by
Must you always sigh
Tell me why your song is sad, never glad
Blue River, Blue River
Do you hold the memory Of a vanished dream
Words he sang while they danced away.
