Tuesday, December 28, 2010


i thought once how theocritus had sung
of the sweet years, the dear and wished-for years,
who each one in a gracious hand appears
to bear a gift for mortals, old or young:
and, as i mused it in his antique tongue,
i saw, in gradual vision through my tears,
the sweet, sad years, the melancholy years.
those of my own life, who by turns had flung
a shadow across me. straightway i was 'ware,
so weeping, how a mystic shape did move
behind me, and drew backward by the hair;
and a voice said in mastery, while i strove,-
"guess now who holds thee?" - "death," i said. but there,
the silver answer rang,- "not death, but love."

-elizabeth barrett browning, sonnets from the portugese

Saturday, December 25, 2010

o holy night

i spent my christmas eve sitting in the back of a tiny cathedral in midtown sacramento, with large boughs of fragrant fir draping themselves along the pillars of the brick and stained glass building on either side of the rows of wooden pews. altar boys lit candles as a handbell choir performed quietly in the minutes leading up to the service, and at the close, the room went dark, save for those few candles while silent night was sung and the clock struck midnight. liturgy always brings me back to my childhood when we used to go to mass faithfully. there is a sense of awe and magic in the reverence and tradition of these services. i feel connected to it. i feel peaceful. i feel human. i feel thankful being able to look at a diverse congregation and take communion from a shared cup. i feel at home here.

Friday, December 24, 2010

you know how to whistle dontcha steve

lately, i've been incredibly inspired by these women.

lauren bacall
rita hayworth

katharine hepburn
ingrid bergman

and tallulah bankhead, who took shit from no one.

Thursday, December 23, 2010

speak plainly diana

currently listening to:
joe pug, nation of heat
bob dylan, the freewheelin'
first aid kit, ghost town ep &
i am the reindeer xmas mixtape, by shawn morones. get it here.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

writer's block

*two buck merlot
*joe pug
*czeslaw milosz
*gold chair
*mother's little helper
*writer's block

Tuesday, December 7, 2010


in everything i have, i am grateful.
in everything i don't, i give it no thought.

Monday, December 6, 2010

olive street

hallelujah songs about love

the storm has passed and now the sky is clear
and the starry sky on the dark drive home from
yuba city might be one of my favorite things about
living here. the calm and the quiet. i can feel my
flushed cheeks from the car heater and hallelujah
songs i sing to. i wonder what your move to LA
will look like, kristina says and me too. i like not
knowing, i say. i keep slips of paper with book
titles on them and letters from friends on my
bedside table and i wake up very groggy every
day wondering what time is it, where's my phone,
who has tried to reach me in the night, and often
its no one but now and again werner sends me jokes,
punchlines with puns and bad words or people saying
when will i see you again? i really don't know but
i'll be oregon bound on the twenty-ninth and noah
was in my dream last night he worked at a bank
and wore ripped jeans and i've been thinking about
lambrusco and auld lang syne and a boy's arm around
my shoulder and singing my hallelujah songs about

the timber of my heart

found things

welcome to the blog world, allie zee.

Saturday, December 4, 2010

glad for

i am not unhappy.
i feel blank,
i feel thankful.
i am thankful.
i rejoice in solitude.
comfort in aloneness.
count my blessings.
glad for time and
glad for space and
glad for the things
of the future.
that now can happen
because of my present
i have hope.
my red balloon of hope.
string attached.

Thursday, December 2, 2010


or BK4Lyf
i have this brooklyner friend & he's been using a 35mm since his digital camera broke. (he should keep taking photos, yes? let's encourage this)
i asked him to take some pictures of brooklyn that evoked the true feeling of the place since i've never been there. i personally love how they turned out.

the first time i came to brooklyn, i stayed in a very industrial part (the part where i now live) and factories and lofts are what define my surroundings and initial memories here.
my friends and i are always arguing about if BK is better than manhattan. i was trying to find something that showed this divide. BK4Lyf.
my friend kim's apartment in kensington is amazing. this is her kitchen.
this is how i feel every time i think about my life in new york in general. everything will be ok... maybe.
people are always blatantly ignoring parking signs that aren't put there by the city. the clothesline adds to the charm.
photo cred: jonathan smith


"love suffer and work you dumb old bourgeois bag"
-jack kerouac


you are the bread and the knife,
the crystal goblet and the wine.
you are the dew on the morning grass
and the burning wheel of the sun.
you are the white apron of the baker,
and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.

however, you are not the wind in the orchard,
the plums on the counter,
or the house of cards.
and you are certainly not the pine-scented air.
there is just no way that you are the pine-scented air.

it is possible that you are the fish under the bridge,
maybe even the pigeon on the general's head,
but you are not even close
to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.

and a quick look in the mirror will show
that you are neither the boots in the corner
nor the boat asleep in its boathouse.

it might interest you to know,
speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,
that i am the sound of rain on the roof.

i also happen to be the shooting star,
the evening paper blowing down an alley
and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.

i am also the moon in the trees
and the blind woman's tea cup.
but don't worry, i'm not the bread and the knife.
you are still the bread and the knife.
you will always be the bread and the knife,
not to mention the crystal goblet and--somehow--the wine.

-litany, by billy collins

i swear i can be better.