I was working back east, around Princeton and elsewhere out there, and came to this new modeling for Puma. I really like the floors, which seem like they are made of some kind of silvery slop, hardened. And there are other really strange materials as well -- spongy stool coverings, triple thick plastics, cargo container for shipping the stores, that become POS, and the changing rooms; a new graphic language, then curious spreads to product -- like PUMA | Ferrari. Whacky music. I asked them...

scented this, darling? I'm loving this, more: Dzongkha, L'Artisan Parfumeur. Or Timbuktu. 

Quiet, the silent twins, mingled. They must be out wandering... Wishing well, all hallows day. tsg | princeton

I spent a couple of nights with my lover at the Gramercy Park Hotel, NYC, Schrager's collaboration with Julian Schnabel -- painter, filmmaker, now, interior designer. I found the space intriguing. What was it -- dark, deeply scented of burning firewood, and some other dense layers of fragrance beneath. But more? The description might lend itself to something darkly dream like, nightmarish, even; a vision of hammered metals, gigantically scaled chandelier, eclectic heavy furnishings, and...

Rather lonely here, noting the stacking of messages from me. I'll leave it at that, then. Reach, if any needs allow, for aid; reach, if any calls are heard, to offer it. I'll practice what I preach. wishing warmth, all > tsg

Out there, a heron calls its rattling, croaking call, which reaches far back in time -- a sound so distant in the symphony of the world that, perhaps, it recalls the auditory recoil of the time of the dinosaurs. Water drips from the madrona, old gnarled curling branches, a spatter on fallen leaves. And the water below merely whispers -- now, and again -- I am here, listen for me. I call you, to remind you -- I am here. My flashlight, reaches into the trees, and -- in the darkening -- captures...

Isn't it so that every movement is the nexus of a crossing guard? One element, one lover, comes to an other -- and they twine, rooted. One path way, one road, to another and there is some thing new, seen There, at the point that this crossmark signs, the signature of the simple, yet Holding much in the axis; there is the up, the down, that which comes That which goes. And I see, when the X stroke is known, called Again, that there is a changing. This changing is now, the one Stability that I...

Hi and good morning. An intense week -- surely for all. I was just here, in the office -- seems like. And now I'm back again. Actually, my plane was late, about 10.30pm, the police came on the jet -- and NOT for anything to do with me, as I imagine immediately crosses your minds; then I came to the office to get some things, check out...advancements. Worked later in the night, then woke up to get rolling again. And now here. I've left some cool things in the kitchen, places I've been, pitches...

I spent the day with Balletmakers | Capezio the day before yesterday. It was Cristina and I. Some interviews, some research, some connections. More gathering. This will be going on for a couple of weeks, the two of us. But there were intriguing other insights into the framing of this space -- little things, old pointe shoes. Worn down antique tap badges. And it was about dance -- and everything that lives in this space. And how these things are made. And how the art is brought together, for...

Keep the spirit on wing, really? Love all, then take off... --- T > nyc