


German photographer Marie Hochhaus exposes the lady in her little girl subjects. View more at her website.



German photographer Marie Hochhaus exposes the lady in her little girl subjects. View more at her website.
We stepped into Docks in Midtown yesterday evening- with the raw bar and wine on the agenda. Though it was nearly 10:00pm, we were warmly greeted and the dining room was buzzing. After garnering a few seats at the bar, we selected a bottle of Rosa Regale from Banfi, Italy. The sparkling rose poured frothy rather than bubbly and was a bit on the sweet side- a detail that proved excellent in contrast to oyster craving.
With a quick glance of the menu, we requested a platter of chef's pick oysters in the half-shell. The server walked a through the selections from British Columbia, Long Island and Prince Edward Island. The plump and slippery oysters came served with the expected Tabasco, fresh horseradish, cocktail sauce and lemon wedges. The West Coast varieties were a bit overwhelming in their size and the Long Island fell a part- but the Prince Edward Island were spot on. The plate certainly satisfied, but the spot-on service is the detail that pushes Docks beyond other raw bars in Midtown. The bar keep was quite attentive, without being overbearing. She also exhibited knowledge, care and a down-to Earth demeanor.
Information leaked that the Wafels and Dinges truck (which only sets up shop in Midtown on Thursdays) was serving free waffles in the spirit of International Waffle Day. The catch? There's usually a catch. You had to be wearing yellow. I teamed up with a colleague to snag a few tee's from the company soccer team and trotted over to 46th & 6th Avenue. We bonded with the folks in line, one girl admitted, "I didn't mean to wear yellow today, and I feel like it was fate. I was supposed to have free waffles today," and the childish grin behind us, "I wasn't wearing yellow, so I hope this works," as he pressed post-it notes on his chest.
French Designer Mathieu Lehanneur has designed a set of quilted metal storage boxes to be presented at the Tools Galerie a' Paris. Labeled Delicious, the boxes are crafted from the metal often used to make hot dog carts. I'd love a set in my apartment.
We settled into a Naniwa of Japan after the lunch crowd had dispersed. The servers seemed a bit ruffled over our 2:30pm arrival, but agreed to seat us. The interior offered a subtle elegance meshed with function. I imagine the tight space would be a bit overwhelming for some during peak hours.
We decided to share a few items on the menu: Sashimi Deluxe platter with Miso soup and Yakitori. The sashimi came in a generous portion and quite fresh. I would have preferred the fish to be cut a little thinner, but the variety of five types of fish including Yellowtail garnished with thinly chopped scallions and tuna with marinated seaweed- was quite lovely. The Yakitori (BBQ chicken on skewers) impressed me with the negamaki style scallion addition and awkward potato salad/strawberry decor. 
English photographer Julian Hibbard has an impressive client portfolio including Wallpaper, Elle and Popular Mechanics. After studying at Kingston University in London, he assisted German advertising photographer Andreas Heumann.
I'm drawn to the story-telling his images do through their enigmatic quality. He's had exhibitions in Los Angeles, Santiago, London and Scotland.

I'm currently trouble-shooting how to make visible wires more pleasant to look at. These nail-in clips make attaching wires to the wall a creative task, and make the wires more aesthetically pleasing! You may purchase them here!
I live with a graphic novel enthusiast. I'd like to think that he'd enjoy Tim Lane's Abandoned Cars. The genre approaches noir, showcasing the American Mythological drama. Explore and order at Fantagraphics Books.

Florist Flora Grubb creates vertical succulent gardens, and she sells kits in her San Francisco shop. Wouldn't they be perfect in your Manhattan-sized apartment?









My driver shoved through the mess of cabs outside Blue Note-- many empty--waiting-- for live jazz buffs to shuffle out of the West Village venue. I entered to be immediately interrogated by a bouncer, in what appeared to be his grandfather's hand-me down-suit, "You meeting someone or you have a reservation?" I ensured him my company was at the bar, to which he escorted me to the tiny space that had be procured for us in the standing room.
