jolie laide

jolie laide

I started this when I lived in Brooklyn and struggled for grace in a city that grants moments of beauty and ugliness breathtakingly close to one another. Now I live in a place where things are a different kind of ugly and the beauty is pedestrian. I struggle with that.


Skinny white boy, his hair still wet from the shower, wedges his narrow flanks into a spot too small on the subway bench. He wants to be alone with his book of F. Scott Fitzgerald short stories.

Hip hop girl with a beaded, hand painted trucker hat, an air-brushed skull, glitter lettering "Keep Love Black."

A rainy day, a double homicide, so much work to be done.


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