In 2006, I started seeing hearts everywhere. Not just on the necklace I wore with three little silver hearts and not just dangling from my keychain.
Hearts exploded around the world: glass hearts in Venice; hearts on telephone poles in Amsterdam; chocolate hearts in Brussels. Little girls had hearts on their shirts and on the barrettes in their hair; their grandmothers had antique heart brooches and hearts were embroidered into their purses. Hearts adorned the storefronts of boutiques in SoHo and were graffitied on the bodegas of Spanish Harlem.
They were also in the clouds, in the trees, in the shadows, in flower petals, in cut strawberries. It seemed that nature was in alignment with the people. (Or was it the other way around?)
Once I started looking, I saw them everywhere.
I started this blog with the intention of collecting photos of hearts everywhere – and then it evolved into essays and commentary about my life and chronically my happiness. But when life decided to narrate stories faster than I could transcribe them (publicly), I hit the pause button on my beloved blog.
When I decided to start posting to the blog again, I gave it a new look, but the voice is the same. I’m still finding hearts in the world, but for 2016, the hearts will be in the stories.