She Sure is {Sketchy}: Walking in a Wonderland

This weekend was my kind of Brooklyn winter dayz. We tapped out at 52 degrees and I wore a denim jacket. It felt like the first day of Spring, the thing I always want for Christmas.

 I slept in (exhausted after an evening of pure bliss in Gowanus). I danced to Spoon in my pajamas -- A very important part of a balanced weekend. I put on one layer of clothing. I grabbed my en plein air kit and shuffled out of the Penthouse at 302 Court without a stitch of make-up or any semblance of plans. I rambled along Henry. I skipped along Sackett. After a long and ambling time I copped a squat at the park to draw some chillins dressed like JCrew models. It happened fast because they hadn't been unleashed without coats in so long their batteries were on full. These are speed sketches.

I read "my slutty book". In evening time I juggled a bit of nothing and nothing to meet a friend at Zaytoons -- the kind of friend that had a baby and moved to Jersey and craves grape leaves --which means I did not have to even leave my burrough (or my block for that matter) AND I ate Shwarma. Yesiree, never any day better. At the day's end, I danced to Spoon in my jeans. I did dishes. I baked zucchini-nut muffins like a boss. I made terse and hilarious innuendo with K. I took a shower hot enough to melt the paint off a Honda. I got back in my pajamas. I watched Felicity (the one where the Christmas tree catches on fire, you know which one). I worked on my new top secret animation project. I got a phone call. I changed out of my pajamas back in to ONE layer, people. I ran to Camp, for a nightcap where I met a man I haven't seen in many moons.....
oh and there were sparklers. Did I mention the sparklers?

This is Brooklyn. 

It is perfect.