I was feeling bad about the "people you've lost touch with" question [see below] and it occured to me that 1. I'm a librarian with 2. excellent research skills, or at least, 3. access to Google... and lo and behold I believe I've found Gabriel.

What has turned this gorgeous Italian architect into an even more gorgeous punked-out performance artist in a tutu? He'll have to tell you that story...

And, to cheer you up, a purple hippo dancing...

Yes. Blogging has come to this.

It's friday five time:

1. List five things you'd like to accomplish by the end of the year -- meet with my photo club; finish scrapbooking my trip through Eastern Europe; get to the B&W darkroom; write to some of the new friends i made while traveling, and send 'em photos; buy a new bookshelf, get it painted and assembled...

2. List five people you've lost contact with that you'd like to hear from again -- Swazz & Gabriel are my only MIAs

3. List five things you'd like to learn how to do -- make a turducken; speak, read and write Russian; speak, read and write Spanish; surf; medium-format pinhole photography

4. List five things you'd do if you won the lottery (no limit) -- set up scholarships for former students of NYPL's adult literacy program; fund after-school photography clubs for NYC high schools; build libraries; fund limb-replacement clinics and mine-removal programs; and travel....

5. List five things you do that help you relax -- go the darkroom; swim in the ocean; listen to Blue Rodeo; surf the web; browse through expensive photography and home design books and magazines.

Last Wednesday my friend Joe took his life. The news of his death only reached New York today, and I'm still reeling. We all are.

Every few months, I'd entice Joe over for a roast beef dinner. He'd come late, straggling in after a drawing lesson, and linger for hours. We talked Buddhism, and art, and librarianship (of course....). He loved my cooking, and I loved the kind, confident way he encouraged me in drawing, and in photography.

Depression is cruel, or at least that's how I remember it. The world closes down, and we are deceived into thinking that there are no choices. We forget that we are loved. And that's what pains me. In the end, maybe Joe forgot how much we loved him.

For now, I am going to pretend that he is on an extended trip to Alaska. I imagine him hiking along a trail, wandering ahead. Maybe he went to get things ready for the rest of us. I don't know. Joe, I miss you.

Oh happy day. Oh happy, happy day.

It began with a dancing pear. A giant, 8 foot by 5 foot, green, dancing pear. Where was this large fruit? He was dancing around the entrance to my subway station at 8 am this morning. Why? Turns out freshdirect.com has arrived in my neighborhood. I went online this afternon and ordered a cucumber, a tomato, smelly cheese, and some sparkling water. The goods will arrive tomorrow afternoon, in a delivery window that I picked. Hooray. I can even arrange for delivery between 9 and 11 pm, if I wish, which is perfect for my crazy busy NYC life.

It's been an embarassment of riches as early birthday presents arrive from my wish list and a friend leaves chocolate treats on my desk. Merci beacoup! I love you all...!

Felix and the girls in I Furiosi make the Globe and Mail with the headline "Leather, tattoos and Monteverdi" -- I'm reading online and can't figure out if they are in the 'Style' section of the paper, or the 'Arts' section.

Finally, I have a four-day weekend, starting right now. And the darkroom is already booked.