To the Max
byWhen Peter Max was at The Art Students League of New York in the 1950s, he studied under Frank J. Reilly, who himself was…
MAY 2014
Flower Power
Upper Crust
byTwo words: Chocolate bread. When I was a Westchester neophyte, those words were all it took for me to hightail it to The Kneaded…
Wings of desire
byThey’re as apparent as fashion and as profound as death itself. They alight for a moment, flitting from flower to flower and yet are…
Sis gets her way with Sweet Melissa
byAsk 10 people at random if they like wine. Don’t be surprised to find that some are not wine drinkers. That’s because wine can…
Something to sniff at
byThere is something ineluctable and ineffable about fragrance. You know it the minute you scent it. It tickles, teases, tantalizes and maybe even traps…
A tribute to the tender tulip
byI love flowers and tulips are among my favorite. I photograph them, paint them and enjoy them in my home and garden. My fondness…
The garden as living canvas
by“When I find pleasure in orchids, I love uprightness; when I see pines and bamboos, I think of virtue; when I stand beside limpid…
Scent of a woman – and a man
byRecently, while doing a TV interview about sex and my upcoming book, the interviewer, a lovely man, seemed stumped when I said both men…
Grown in America
byWhen it comes to landscaping, there have been biblical gardeners (Adam, and according to filmmaker Darren Aronofsky, Noah), sexy gardeners (John Rowland on “Desperate…