I have a section on this site called ‘Instagrammatica.’ It’s right over there under the ‘Pictorial’ tab, and it’s exactly what you’d expect it to be: a feed of my Instagram photos. It’s been there for a few years. I look at it sometimes, and it’s nice, but it’s not as as nice as my real Instagram feed, which is fine, but still. I like having what I have at Instagram, but despite my appreciation for the principle of ‘multi platform blah blah blah’ I have a very old-fashioned attachment to the idea of my stuff being my stuff, and better appreciated, by me, in my own space. So I keep a version of it here.
The problem is, it doesn’t include my words, and I’ve been finding myself adding more and more words to my photos on Instagram, for reasons that I can’t quite explain other than to say that it just feels like the thing to do. And it seems that I’ve actually maybe been putting more words on Instagram than I have been here, in this space that is supposed to be my writerly space, which is… well, it is was it is. You write where you write. Anyway. All of this is to say, I’ve decided to repost some of those little photo commentary missives here. So that I have them here. For me.
You can read them too, if you want.
The first, below.
There’s a limit to my fancy. I’m an old, after all, and a little bit boring besides. My Helmut Lang-clad feet are happy on the bed, and Trina Turk sequins look just as fine in repose as they do on the red carpet. I have ordered Cabernet and a matzoh ball soup and I am going watch television and if I tell you that this is just as satisfying as a private Maroon 5 concert, will you believe me? (You don’t need to, it’s true.) (The concert was pretty awesome though. Maroon 5 is kinda like latter-day The Police, did you know that? And Adam Levine shakes his butt a lot, probably on purpose.) #everydaymoments