Shoes off

Shoes with heels swan-neck tall. Ah. Actually, I can’t remember the last time I could wear a pair. Maybe I never could. My poor feets were enlisted to do what they could to advance my career in running until I fractured an extra navicular and 1, it hurt and 2, it did a good job of anti-advancing my career in running and 3, it made wearing beauteous shoes very hard.


Shoes Off

Still, I like them.  I like all beautiful shoes. I have a lot.  Four pairs of Robert Clergerie, four pairs of Tod’s. Three of Taryn Rose, three Ferragamos, two Pradas, one pair of Hermes and probably a partridge in a pear tree. That’s all I can remember right now. But I live in Southern California and I write and make art all day long so mostly I wear flip flops and Chucks.

But shoes are lovely, good things that can turn an ordinary day into a little bit of a fairy tale adventure. You have to be equipped, you know. And that moment when the shoes come off and our feet are planted on the earth, in the grass, on the wood floor, in the Persian rug – that is bliss.


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