My Summer of Love

Artist in my Home: India Richer

 

Above: Copyright belongs to the artist, India Richer.  Hence, her pretty watermark.  Pounce on the rabbits to see the full painting.

....................

"A hip, hip lady" - Slater on the First Lady

Oh Slater, how I wish I had your talent for smoove brevity.

India Richer is the coolest. 

................... 

 

I arrived at my desk and out of the blue saw something from India-

a handwritten note that made me place my hand on my heart and smile,

and a limited edition print that she knew I'd like.  

Let me just say...a few years ago, she surprised me with a gift of an original painting, which was one of the most beautiful objects I'd ever been given.  That was my very first India Richer piece, back in 2007 or 2008.  I think I've felt bonded to her ever since.  Since then, she's given me several gifts. I eventually purchased a couple of prints of her art, but, I feel I could never repay her for the things she's done for me as an artist or friend.  She has become some sort of wolf-sister-doe in the forest of my life.  I'll show you more of her work another day and then you'll understand more about her.

I'll be framing and hanging this image.  But for a moment, I placed it atop an object, in order to share it with you. 

I would never put any pin holes in her thick cotton paper...

 
...though I do have the loveliest push pins. 

Mine are wooden hand-painted milk bottles made by a very special person.  Do you think it's odd of me to get excited by push pins?  I know it's a tiny item, but I guess your standard thumb tack, in my opinion, can cheapen the look of a room.  Using my special pins on the calendar by the window makes me think of "handmade" instead of "mass-produced" and "artist's studio" instead of "Office Supply Superstore" and reminds us that utilitarian details in our homes can still be stylish.  They aren't baby bottles by the way; they are the kind of bottle that the milk man delivered to your door before the 1960s.  I have a few real milk bottles in the house as well.  Very farmhouse.  I love them. 

* I hope a new camera some day helps me capture these interiors, in such a way as to make my heart sing.

Today we have some January afternoon light which will have to do!  If you're trying to identify what else is on the wall, those are some French/Icelandic wool lights; a porcelain jellyfish floats near a window; and there is a limited edition wall calendar by artist Julianna Bright.

I'll not dissect India's work at all; she's simply a wonderful person and a skilled, inspired artist.  There's a purity and a strength about her and I'm honored that she's part of my life.

 

The original drawing was made of watercolor paint and graphite pencil. 

You see a young woman in red shoes; 

she's extending towards wild rabbits in their borough;

her hair spills softly on the ground. 

There is a ladder at the ready.

 

For more info on this New York based artist, visit: www.indiaricher.com

 

 

Currently listening to "The End Of The Innocence" by Bruce Hornsby and Don Henley, 1989 and "Pink Bullets" by The Shins, 2005

Drew

I got a silly text message yesterday on my cell phone.  It was from my friend Chris and said:

"Hey - did u happen to see the NY Post yesterday?  drew barrymore looked like ur SPITTING image omg ccccraaaazy!"

Well, I didn't see that newspaper.  I guess there would have been a slim possibility, if I were walking past a corner in Manhattan.  But he knows me better than to read that newspaper, come come now. 

I fig he may growl at me for saying this next part, but I'm surprised that he reads the NYP.  I hope it's for the sports pages.  I'll take a chance and ask you guys-- Did anyone pick up a copy of the New York Post on January 20?  I have a feeling you'll say no, just like I did.  He didn't tell me what picture of Drew he's referring to, and naturally I'm curious to see what compelled him to text me with such fervor.  Perhaps he paged through it at his dentist's office.  He won't show me!  This guy knows me all my life.  He loves driving me bananas, but he also seems to brighten my days out of nowhere, which is very welcome.  

What was Miss Barrymore doing, I wonder?  Did she look lovely, or did she look messed?  I hope that my whole blog entry today doesn't mean I'm terribly vain and vapid.  I never want to waste my readers' time by making you read bupkus.  With luck, this entry will transform in a few hours into some cool fashion photos for you, instead of just text.

I believe Drew is a few years older than I.  I don't know how you feel about her, but I've always found her lovable.  Even in silly movies like Fever Pitch, which I have to admit, I somehow ended up going on a date to?!  It was cute.  And as far back as Firestarter, which I saw on Channel 11 when I was way too young to see Stephen King movies.  I probably saw it when my brothers (who were much older than I) had friends over.  It's the movie in which she says "Back off, just BACK OFF"  repeatedly, in her darling voice...  while her wispy hair blows and her eyes get all intense and things start lighting up.

I'll search for the newspaper pictures from this week, if I can confirm they are indeed the ones he was freaking out about.  Let's just hope they're not something unpretty, like a mug shot or a worst dressed list.  Be back later.

 

Photo above found via:  link 

Update:  It turned out there were dozens on their website from that day.  It's hard to tell which one he meant.  I'm excited that she won the Golden Globe Award for Best Actress in a Mini Series (for Grey Gardens on HBO)!

Here she is in her dress designed by Donatella Versace. 

I love

-  the nude color of the dress,

- the way it fits her body type perfectly,

- its sparkle,

- its softness and movement,

- the sheerness,

- the way it spills about the floor. 

I'm not wild about the stiff "coral reef" jutting out at the shoulder and hip! 

But, there is something luminous about the spirit of the girl in the dress, I think. 

 

It isn't a perfect ensemble, yet I think she's rockin it somehow.  The trouble might be that it reminds me of a vintage prom dress.

p.s. 

Eventually the blog will be back on a more "regular" schedule of visual content. Right now I'm being pulled in many directions and I'm sorry you haven't heard more from me.  I want you to know I'm around, and haven't forgotten you at all. I'm feeling spread very thin, but I hope things get better soon, my dear friends and readers.  For the whole country, not only for my family.  Am sending love to all of you.  

 

Untitled.

 

The world is suffering through a tragic time.  I don't feel like talking about about my own stuff so much this week.  More pictures and words to come... very soon.  xo 

 

 

Currently listening to:  “Burndt Jamb” by Weezer (2002)

 

 

 

To donate, volunteer, or learn about the Haitian relief, visit:

 

www.redcross.org

 

 

 

Fade into you

 

Been missing you.

 

 

 

 

More blogging to come soon.

 

Currently listening to:  "Fade Into You" 

by Mazzy Star (1993)

 

Photo credits: 

1) A woman in pinks, blowing smoke in the woods, wearing bikini bottoms, sheer chiffon top, a golden bow 'round her neck, and a huge gauzy headdress.  i love this picture.  photographed by jamie nelson.  image via

link .

2) An infant wearing an ombre bodysuit made of white cotton... dipped and faded with a dye that reminds me of nectar.  the rug looks divine too.  Clothing was made by Deerdane.  image via link .

Christmas in Killarney

Hello!

Am back from the holidays.  Hope that all of you are still taking a break from work, and you're thoroughly enjoying life this week.

I didn't spend Christmas in Ireland, no matter what the title of this post is.  I have that song in my head, since I'm nearly obsessed with it this year.  Love that song. 

Christmas in Killarney is wonderful to see.
Listen to my story, and I'll take you back with me.
The holly green, the ivy green, the prettiest picture you've ever seen is Christmas in Killarney, with all of the folks from home.  It's nice you know to kiss your beau while cuddling under the mistletoe.  And Santa Claus of course you know is one of the boys from home. 

I learned Irish dancing when I was in elementary school, and that song makes me want to do it again, if only for a few minutes.

At my family's Christmas party, some friends and relatives brought their pets so that they could stay for an extended amount of time without rushing home.  Here is my puppy in an Eskimo kiss with a miniature Schnauzer.

This week lots of tea is being poured.  I have a collection of honeys.  What I'm presently using is one of my jars of Heather Honey. This particular jar was made by the honeybees whose diet consists of the heather flowers in Tuscany, Italy. 

My family isn't Italian, and I'd never realized heathers were growing in Italy, until I started learning about bee populations and delicious, aromatic, healthy honeys.  If it's of interest to any of you, I suppose now is as good a time as any, to mention that I was named in honor of my grandfather.  He was a violin-playing writer and swimmer.  He was incredibly fond of the heather plants on the Isle of Man in the early 1900s.

The card in the photo is Spanish, and translates to "Especially for you on Christmas." I thought it was strange but cool that someone gave me a foreign language greeting card. 

 

My favorite ornaments might be birds that feel real to the touch with their beautiful feathers and talons.  I love that they perch on the Christmas tree's branches instead of hanging from strings.  I held my camera inside the tree, to spot the hidden pale pink bird. 

The glass "bubble" ornaments on the tree reminded me of a room I saw in Lyndhurst Castle.  When I visited their historic stone building years ago, they gave tours of mind-blowing fairy-tale rooms with a wintry feel.  The interiors were designed by amazing artists, who transform 17 rooms in 7 days. It's hard to find photos online that compare to what it's like being there. It's just so detailed and creative.  They decorate every space, even down to the washroom...where they filled a claw-foot bathtub with an overflowing pile of clear orbs. There were glass "bubbles" floating through the air.   The transparent globes were meant to resemble sea foam.

Sea foam is one of my very favorite visuals. 

 

I guess that's why that particular room stayed in my mind all these years.

Bummer I don't have a digital photo of that "foamy" room in the castle.  I found this lovely photo online...it's Drew Barrymore in that same building I'm talking about.  She was photographed there by Annie Leibovitz.  She is doing a vignette of Beauty and the Beast.

 

When I was growing up, I lived in a cedar house in Scarsdale with cathedral ceilings.  We had 10-foot-high trees every year! I'll look for old photos to scan for you.  

I'm getting used to much smaller evergreens in my current life. In this moment, the house was entirely dark except for the lights on the tree by the hearth:
 

This year my father shopped for most of the groceries for the family party, and I was so impressed that he went to Whole Foods.  He's decided that Whole Foods is his preffered store if he wants a good quality Bûche De Noël, among all the other things he buys there.  The "Yule Log" is a French tradition. It's basically a chocolate cake made to resemble a real tree trunk, with fresh raw cranberries and real green holly leaves on top, and a couple of white marzipan mushrooms... strategically placed to look like they are wildly growing on the log.  My papa doesn't like the kind from a regular market.  This one tastes like a vegan cake, or a flourless passover cake.

We ate delicious savory courses.  Here is the tender beef brisket with organic vegetables and fresh spices. Dinner was served on some of our family heirlooms; a set of antique painted china plates made by Rosenthal in Europe.

 
We drank excellent French wines from Zachys, which is a special wine shop in our old home town. These bottles were part of the evening thanks to my sister's husband who brought them for everyone.

We wound up playing a game called Funglish, and it was absolute hilarity. We didn't want the night to end; everyone wanted to stay over.

 

How was your Christmas, or any other holiday you celebrated this month, my dearest readers?  Please share some of your highlights with me. 

Happy New Year's Eve to all of you!

Currently listening to:

"Auld Lang Syne"

based on a poem by Robert Burns (1788)

 

Give a listen to Mairi Campbell's version if you've never heard it before.   She uses a different tune than the traditional melody we're accustomed to.  Her band's rendition has a tear-jerking quality, and lets us hear the authentic Scottish pronunciation of the lyrics.  I'll paste the link, if you require a cathartic cry after your raucous partying:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=0U3w_zpiWSE

 

Reaching for a peach

I love this kimono I saw for sale. 

I also love the photo of the girl reaching for the peach and the guy reaching for her. 

Cute moment.

 

 

Via Ms. Wood

Quix

 

Above:  How things feel for me today.

Below:  How things look.

Old mahogany wooden beams, new porcelain heated floor, new picture window.

This may be the first time I posted something that I don't consider a good-looking snapshot.  It's nothing gorgeous, so I may take this post down later.  I included it so that you'd see what I see on this fine day.

I'm writing quickly again.  I don't like to rush.  It feels way better when I put together a heathery post during a peaceful time of day, with pretty pictures and text. 

I always say that if I had more time, I'd make it shorter.  I'm not a writer, but I'm sure writers know what I mean by that.

I'm surrounded by boxes, workmen, the scent of sawdust, and the sounds of hand-tools.  Some of the guys are cute and funny, and it's pretty cool to be involved with this kind of installation.

I'm slowly but surely responding to all comments.  Usually, I reply by my own comment beneath yours.  My response may not come immediately when yours goes up.  

I love your input.  I'm going through my blog posts, before they become too numerous. Want to make sure every comment was acknowledged.  I've done a bunch.

Good luck with all you're doing!  What a busy time of year for all of us.

Wishing you speed in your fingertips,

and wishing you strokes of brilliance,

in both your creative and critical thinking this week. 

 

P.S.

I'll embed a video here.  It's for all the folks who aren't into the holiday season.  Most of my friends seem psyched about it this year, but you never know who will stumble upon My Summer of Love.  A lot of people get the blues.  It's normal for this to happen at least once in our lives.   For some peeps it's a blue-ish gray December every year; I feel for those folks.  Whether you're full of cheer or you're more of a misanthrope these days, know that I get it. 

I appreciate so much that you read this blog.  I hope it provides a soothing place for your eyes whenever you need an escape.  Helene once told me she felt as if this page was "like stepping into a pleasant dream" and I loved that idea.

Here's a video for anyone who isn't the jolly type (although I'm quite spritely today and I love it too).  It's a slideshow of Marilyn Monroe photos. 

My main message today is that I have love for grinches, scrooges, etc.  and I wish I could give each of you a warm heathery hug.  It has been known to work wonders, for some mysterious reason.  Maybe I sound corny right now, but I don't even mean to say this in a corny way.

Here are lovely black and white images taken in New York, California, with her various suitors, and more.  The music is the song "Hard Candy Christmas," composed by Carol Hall in 1978, sung by Dolly Parton in 1982.  In a way, it doesn't seem like something I'd pick out for myself to enjoy, at least not for my blog.  But somehow it works. 

The Arthur Miller years are evocative to me.  I'm not a Marilyn buff, but I love almost every photo of her in this video.  This three minute ditty spoke to me a few years ago- a time when I wasn't enjoying the holidays as much as I always had.  This year, I'm loving the season.

Take heart.

3 mins 33 secs

 

 

Photo of Miller and Monroe via clickable link.

 

The spirit is always warm

Clearly the designer of this Japanese cotton was a sentimental fool like me.

Or trying desperately to convince himself that he could still be warm when it was freezing cold outside.

This is the fabric I'll use to wrap Christmas presents.  Fabric costs a few dollars more than traditional wrapping paper, but I find it's less wasteful (doesn't use virgin trees as most wrapping paper does).  I'll only do this for people I know who appreciate this type of touch.

The print resembles a pattern of homemade stamps dunked in golden paint.  There are phrases scattered about the plane. 

Dangling participles are plentiful on this.  I love them all.

There are also plenty of full sentences :)

In addition to

"The spirit is always warm." 

you'll find

"A lovely word." and

"Wishes from everybody."

(What kind of wishes?  And they're from everybody?  Wow.)

And so on and so forth. 

It's the style of the fabric that I like, more than the content.  I mean, anyone can make a print with birds and candy canes.  But this one seemed stylish and special, and also a little bit funny and tender.  It goes without saying, but I always love to hear people laughing and see people smiling during the holidays.

One of my personal favorites on this textile:

"Be gentle in your heart."

 

 

photo via ikoplus

Hello from the kitchen

I want to post at least one blog today, aside from the one I'm writing you in this very moment.  This one is quickly saying hi and touching base with you guys.  

I want to write off the cuff right now.  I began this blog in late June.  Some newcomers to the blog may not know yet, that it was right after my father was diagnosed with a serious illness.  This came after he'd been in extremely good health all his life, besides his belly, which he'd developed in his "old" age.  His is a common illness and they say it should be treatable, but we're still in the process.  My dad's a strong guy.  Most of his family has lived long and well, so we're all trying to remain positive.

I tried to post one blog every day at first.  I've been known to post more than once in a 24 hour period if possible.   Would be nice to get back to doing that more often.

Lately I've been working on a kitchen, which has been really hard.  It's stimulating the parts of my brain that handle mathematical, spatial, and artistic thought, which is so much fun.

Lee is one of my first puppy loves and oldest friends. He lives too far away now and hopefully we'll see each other in the coming year.  He's a photographer, and speaking of which, I'd actually like to show you some of his shots soon.  He's also a brilliant engineer. I've been talking to engineers lately and thinking of him, even though he doesn't work much on residences like this. Lee, come visit me, I need your mind for this big installation.

While the other stuff I'm dealing with has been awful, this home project is a sweet experience that I never would have imagined I'd enjoy so much.  I can't wait to show you pictures.  This blog brings so much peace and beauty into my days, and I thank you for being part of that.  Thank you for feeling that this is a special little page to swim around in.

On a light note, I've spent hours looking at beautiful tiles, and I still cannot decide if it's wise to go with a bold Moroccan back-splash, or whether Moroccan tile is something one could grow tired of looking at day after day.  Do you have experience with these?  I found one tile design called Moroccan Heather, I wonder if that is a cute sign... perhaps it makes my decision for me to go with something Moroccan.  I'm also interested in hand painted Portuguese azulejos, or French mosaics.

I may need your advice and I'll let you know when I do- all of you clever, creative, sensitive, artistic folks.  So stay tuned and please chime in when I post pictures.  I'll be back later.

 

 

Kitchen photo by Thibault Jeanson

A lovely triangle: Dalmatian, Marianne, and a Painting

A Dalmatian next to Marianne Faithfull. 

 

 

 

photo via astral boutique

Winter at last

 
The title of my post is best for December 21st, the winter solstice.  I'm about a fortnight early.  However, the first snowfall of the season has made me so cheerful that I cannot wait to post wintry images.  I spotted these in a magazine I paged through at someone's house.  I crossed my fingers that they were somewhere online, because I couldn't forget them and wanted to see them once more.  Then I realized I'd like to share them with you. 

 

My favorite of the lot is the photo above, because I'm a sucker for canines from cold climates, and for igloos as well.  I'd love to build one, no kidding.  I need to travel to the Arctic and be taught the technique.

 

The pinks and fire tones look beautiful against the blue-ish white landscape.  I always love to see things that glow from within.

 

I bet I'll erase half of this post when I re-read it later.  I think I have a natural high from taking a run in the cold air this morning.

 

Each block of the colorful dwelling above boasts a different artful pattern.  One block has a great alphabet.  Others look like mosaic domes. 

 

One square is a painting of running horses.  It makes me think of my Medieval Studies courses in college, which were some of my favorite academic experiences.  The horses on that igloo bring my brain back to Byzantine art.

 

The horses on the block of ice also remind me of cave drawings.  I had an ivory colored t-shirt, with gold silhouettes of a stampede of horses all over the front. I bought it because it was sooo touchably soft, looked lovely in a very subtle way, kept me close to my favorite animals, and reminded me of equine drawings from art history.  If you ever see a shirt like this, please tell me :)  I think I left it in a cabin in Maine about four summers ago.  Sad that I couldn't replace it.  It's just a thing, so I shouldn't be attached to something like that.  Hopefully a wonderful person found it.  There goes another digression.

 

 

 

  There once was an ancient reindeer, with the strongest antlers any reindeer had ever grown.  He loved a rosy cheeked, pale skinned girl because she had believed in him long before he had his renowned antlers.  He brought her all the way to the North Pole because she'd always wanted to see the Aurora Borealis, and she believed it would solve some of the mysteries of her life.  They tied bright silks around their necks, so that they could spot each other if they were separated.

 

She dismounted when she saw what she thought were giant bear claw prints.

 
 

She followed the footprints to a shining edifice of ice. 

 

 
Inside was an abominable snowman, who snarled and heaved at her, setting off a great battle with the reindeer.  When the battle ended, the yeti was defeated and leaped onto a passing iceberg, sailing off to distant lands where he could be alone once again.

The reindeer suddenly shed his antlers, and transformed into a handsome man.  The rosy cheeked girl didn't know what to make of all this.
 
 



He looked a little silly in his suit, raincoat, and ski gear.

But then he whipped up the most unbelievably delicious hot toddie.
 
 
  

 He explained that she and he were destined for this moment, and that they had many more adventures ahead of them.
 

 
 
Suddenly there appeared a husky puppy, which she placed carefully in her satchel.  They mounted a sled covered in brown and beige fur and a team of dogs whisked them away.
 
She felt so excited, so confused, and so safe all at the same time.

 

 

 

*I changed the order of the pictures from the magazine, to fit the little story I dreamed up.
 
Currently listening to:  The Book Of Right On by Joanna Newsom, 2004  ("do you wanna run with my pack?  do you want to ride on my back?")

 

Photos belong to Hermes, found via luxuo

Need sleep

Last week was a very big week.  Worth it though.

 

 

photo by wonderful gemma booth

Drumroll...

The winner of my first give-away is Anabela. 
 
 
Three cheers and congratulations!

Thank you very much to all who entered.  I wanted each one of you to win.  I don't know if I can bear these give-aways,  you're all so sweet in your own special ways, and I wish that a contest of this nature didn't mean I had to disappoint those of you who aren't taking the sweater home. 

 

I have many great presents to gift you.  The odds are extremely strong that you'll be the person with a prize in the future.  Because I'll make sure the same person doesn't win twice in a row, and I received only about a dozen entries- the perfect sized pool for everyone to have a good chance.  One of the coolest aspects of this contest was that even though we only had a few handfuls of entries, there were over seven countries represented.  Mostly the U.S.A., Canada, England, and Australia, but also Luxembourg, France, India, and Brazil.  Please don't be too shy or too bummed to try again if you see something you like here.

 

 

The view this morning out my windows:
  

I have a bunch of nieces, but one in particular I'm very close with because I take care of her all the time and she's the baby of the family.

The one who helped me pick the winner:

I cut papers in the shape of hearts.  Each one of your names was typed.  I painted each a different color, then I nestled 'em in a ski hat. 

 

I had to take a photo of my paper hearts, as they looked glowingly pretty in this early December light. 

 

I dusted them with snowflakes for good measure.

 

Yes!  That means today we woke to our first snow. 

 

Here is Anabela, seeing hearts everywhere she looks:

I'm happy that I get to send a package to Anabela this time, because it can serve as a birthday and Christmas gift as well.  And, in my past experiences with her, she's a tasteful, warm, sincere, and generous person.   I hope she loves this parcel.
 
I'm not sure if I should mention this, but I hope that she doesn't mind.  She and her fiance are the brains, hearts, and hands behind the blog fieldguided.  They are based in Toronto.  Their work includes tailored dresses, custom men's ties, cool ceramics, fresh and clean (and simply lovable) drawings, and more.  They sell their work on Etsy worldwide and Bakers Dozen (a shop of exclusive limited editions, based in Australia and founded by artist Amy Borrell, an artist whose paintings are in my home).
 
I own a couple of vintage pieces from Anabela, perhaps you'd like to see.  I cannot remember when exactly I obtained them; seems like ages ago. 

 

First, here's my silk pussy bow blouse, as they called it.  'twas in perfect condition, one hundred percent pure silk, and from Paris. 

 

 
Here's my vintage beaded collar, again in perfect condition. The tag reads:  "Made in Japan, Hand Made, styled exclusively for Segal's Reg'd" and it dates to the 1950s.  I owe Anabela thanks - thank you for bringing lovely little items into my home.  They're classic yet unique.
 

 
I'm peppering this post with stills from A Little Princess, released in 1995.

 

 

 

It came to mind when I saw my favorite toddler in curlers, as she was getting ready to see Santa Claus today. 

 

She reminded me of several scenes, when the boarding school chums are piled on the bed.  They're telling stories late into the night, while their mistress plays a concert harp downstairs.  She's unaware of their mischief.

 

All of the girls use rags for curlers, tied into their silky locks.  I love the way it looks! 

 

Such a beautiful film.  It was nominated for Oscars in Best Art Direction, Set Direction, and Cinematography.
 
Have any of you read the novel by Frances Hodgson Burnett (1904) or seen the movies (1917 starring Mary Pickford, 1939 starring Shirley Temple, 1995 starring Liesel Matthews)? 

 

Here's a preview if you're in the mood  (2 mins 49 secs) :

www.imdb.com/video/screenplay/vi2052259865/

A running theme in the story is exemplified in these lines:
 
Miss Minchin (the head mistress):  "Don't tell me you still fancy yourself a princess?  Look around you!  Or better yet, look in the mirror."

Sara Crewe:  "I am a princess.  All girls are.  Even if they live in tiny old attics.  Even if they dress in rags, even if they aren't pretty, or smart, or young.  They're still princesses.  All of us.  Didn't your father ever tell you that?  Didn't he?"
 
I was reminded of the film in a second way today, because this is how it felt to see the first snow of the season.  It glistened, covering the landscape outside my windows:
 
 

 
Now I'll bid goodnight to all of my readers out there, who surely are fit to be princesses, young and old.

 

Adieu, mes amis!
 

Currently listening to: 

 

"Step Right Up" by Tom Waits, 1976 

 

(wherein he growls the lyric "prizes, prizes, prizes")

 

Image credits:

1) Prizes girl drawing- by

Heather

2) Girl smiling with snow on her face- belongs to Warner Bros., found via clickable link

3) Snow woods- by Heather

4) Baby with curlers- by

Heather

5) Paper hearts- by

Heather

6) Anabela in glasses - used here with permission from Fieldguided

7) Ivory blouse- by

Fieldguided

8) Beaded collar- by

Fieldguided

9) Girls on head of huge Indian statue with swimming elephant below- belongs to Warner Bros., found via clickable link

10) Girl in open attic window- belongs to Warner Bros., found via clickable link

 

 

Give-away # 1: Fair Isle Sweater in the spirit of Max the wild thing

"I didn't want to wake you up, but I really want to show you something."

- James Gandolfini as Carol to Max Records as Max

(That sentence speaks to where I was yesterday, when I began to post this blog...while we were all dozy on a post-turkey-feast day.  We were stepping out of our tryptophan hangover gently and quietly, enjoying a day off of work...we were just loving life.)

Where The Wild Things Are is in theaters now.  I went to see it because in the past, I'd liked some works by author/artist Maurice Sendak, director/skateboarder Spike Jonze, and the film's screenplay writer Dave Eggers, whose book, A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, I'd read.

The visuals, cinematography, and songs are my favorite elements of this movie.  

And a few lines that are like bites of poetry,

such as this one, uttered by Lauren Ambrose of the hugely missed show Six Feet Under... 

"I'll eat you up I love you so." 

Some of these creatures looked like cousins of the puppets in The Dark Crystal, a movie that came out when I was too small for school.

At the beginning of the film, Max is wearing an awesome tribal style knitted sweater (the rest of the film he's in a wolf-suit). 

He wears it in school, rough housing with the other guys, while he's daydreaming, and on his drive home.  I coveted this!  It looked perfectly old world.

I have a couple of lovely fair isle sweaters already, but I happened to see one in a shop recently, in this heathered-gray, plum-charcoal color that I love.

It's the exact color of the Atlantic Ocean.

I purchased it because the days were getting colder, it would be great for any activity in the snow, and it reminded me of that dazzling jumper in the film.

I want to give the sweater to one of you, for free! 

Since it's vintage, it's one of a kind. 

It was commercially made, but it looks almost like folk art, because the pattern is intricate.

This sweater is in excellent condition.  It's one of the best-looking fair-isle sweaters I've seen in a long time.  It can be hard to find ones with colors this tasteful, and patterns this flattering.

Vintage sweaters of this type go for say $40 - $80.  Brand new, a high quality fair isle sweater can be worth hundreds.  This one for men by Burberry is $650,  clickable link.

Mine isn't Burberry, but it's still special.  I loved the hues and design. 

Mine could fit a child with plenty of room for layering, a small woman, or even a man, if he's wire-y and bold enough I guess. The measurements are:

shoulder 14.5"
chest 34"
sleeve 23"
length 26"

 It is collegiate, and ski-slope worthy.

 

WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE trailer in HD

Trailer Park| MySpace Video

The tag line for the movie-

Inside all of us is...HOPE

Inside all of us is...FEAR

Inside all of us is...ADVENTURE

Inside all of us is...A WILD THING.

Hoooowwwwl

Leave a comment or email me if you'd like the sweater. 

Entries are welcome until 11 p.m. December 5th.  I'll announce the winner on Sunday morning 12-6-2009.  It's my first give-away and I have no idea if I'll get any bites at all.

I'll be sure to mail it to you in time if you want to give it as a Christmas gift.

Currently listening to: 

"Wake up" by The Arcade Fire  2004

Update:  There's no need to include your address in the body of your comment (I notice a few people are doing that).  I wouldn't want you dears to have to publish your info in order to get the prize.  Rest assured, Typepad sends me your email when you comment.   p.s.  If you'd like to send your entry via private message instead, that's fine too.   You'll find my addie on my "About" page, above a hundred of my favorite things.  Good luck- So far your chances of winning are great!

 

All images in this post (except shirt) belong to Warner Bros, found via

clickable link.

Covered stones

 Hey guys.

I expected to be on the road tonight.  But, I ended up traveling during the day... and I can steal a minute to post a blog now.  I was in the car, train, subway, and walkin' with my legs for hours.  I'm going to have a drink... soon as I post this.  The seasonal choice would be a hot toddy, let's cross our fingers that the ingredients are in the pantry. 

(If you're reading this and you enjoy hot toddies too after wonderful cold weather travels, tell me if you prefer it with a favorite type of whiskey, rum, or brandy.)

I'm thankful for many, many things.  I can hardly do justice to such a thought in the few moments I have right now.

 

In the meantime, I'll show you pretty, textural things... to bring a little drop of art and nature into your day.  I bought these necklaces from this very cool girl Mimi in late summer.  

I use them more often as home decor (hanging from the ceiling or piled in a bowl), less often as jewelry.

 

I think crochet is pretty awesome, let's just get that out if I've not yet mentioned. 

(It probably started when I had an off-white crochet bikini top that I fell in love with, someone gave me as a gift.  If it's hard to picture, it looked sort of like this, except I'm not hot like these models, and mine had little seashells on the ends of the ties.  It was from a French boutique on St. Maarten.)

 

My mother crochets, so you'd think I'd be an ace...but she also practices medicine, takes language courses, volunteers for the Red Cross, is an adjunct prof, cooks gourmet meals, and will re-tile a whole damn floor if it needs it.  She's kind of extraordinary and I can't compare myself to her.  I do get a little frustrated that I can't crochet like a master.  I have to give it a good shot.

When I sew or knit (and I hardly feel I know how) it's usually for the relaxation.  To me, the activity feels both primitive and polished at the same time.  Makes me feel like a woman.  (Does that last part sound sexist?  Hope not).

The hand motions, the colors, and the physics involved are quite amazing and soothing to my sensibilities when I sew.  I feel centered.

Her store is closed now, but she was one of the coolest artisans I've worked with.

I raise my (hot toddy filled) glass to all of you- may you be safe and sound traveling to your various destinations! 

Am sending you love, and for those of you in the U.S.A., a wish for a Happy Thanksgiving.
 

Music:  Heart of Stone by The Rolling Stones, 1964

We'll come back for Indian Summer

It's November in New England.  So warm lately.  Makes me want to do yoga outside.

 

Music:  Indian Summer by Luna, 1993

Breakfast in cemetery
Boy tastin wild cherry
Touch girl, apple blossom
Just a boy playin possum
We'll come back for Indian Summer
We'll come back for Indian Summer
We'll come back for Indian Summer
And go our separate ways
What is that cheerful sound?
Rain fallin on the ground
We'll wear a jolly crown
Buckle up, we're wayward bound
We'll come back for Indian Summer
We'll come back for Indian Summer
We'll come back for Indian Summer
And go our separate ways
Motorbike to cemetery
Picnic on wild berries
French toast with molasses
Croquet and Baked Alaskas
We'll come back for Indian Summer
We'll come back for Indian Summer
We'll come back for Indian Summer
And go our separate ways
Cover me with rain
Walk me down the lane
I'll drink from your drain
We will never change
No matter what they say

photo via dailybitsofbeauty

Jeanne-Claude

 

I wish I could find photos that convey how wonderful Christo and Jeanne-Claude were in person.  I heard that she passed away on November 18th.  It's not easy to imagine the two of them apart.  When I saw them, she did most of the talking.

 

As a student, I saw photos of their art.  I wasn't fully feeling something about it.  I wasn't embracing it and digging it as much as I wanted to.  Sometimes, of course, I love a work of art right away.  Keep in mind I'm not talking about respect here, I'm talking about love.  I can respect something immediately because I see the talent and the heart that went into it.  On the other hand, of course, sometimes I dislike a piece of art right away.  I'm referring to art as a song, a play, a film, a book, a runway show, a painting, and so on and so forth. I disagree with an artist friend of mine, a guy who once said to me "all works of art are beautiful."  I get what he means, I wish I agreed, but for me, there have to be things I don't find beautiful, in order to have a frame of reference for what I think beauty is.

 

 

There is plenty of art that I reserve judgment on.  Sometimes I must revisit it, even if it means reading a book a second time.  Or I need to see it in person, or simply look at it more often, let it be in my life longer, before I know if I like or dislike it.  If that makes sense to any of you, I'm happy, because I'm not sure how well I can explain the feeling.  People usually expect me to like or dislike an artist instantly. 

 

An old best friend of mine, named Melella, understood.  I burned him a CD, and there was one song he fell in love with much later.  I remember he used to say that the superior song on the album was the one that he realized was amazing after he'd listened to the song many times.  Felt as good as discovering something hidden.  "The song that grows on you is probably better than the song you loved at first listen."  I don't think Melella's is a hard and fast rule...but I knew what he meant.  Anyway, this is a roundabout analogy for the fact that Christo and Jeanne-Claude are now some of my favorite artists of all time, but when I first saw photos of their work I was definitely lukewarm about them.

 

As the years went by, I developed an increasing enthusiasm for public art, and I felt more intrigued by Christo and Jeanne-Claude's work every year.  Eventually "The Gates" came to New York City.  At the time I was spending a ton of my time on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, so the Gates became part of my life's landscape.  People traveled from all over the world to visit them...New Yorkers were so lucky that they were at our doorstep.  The city was buzzing about it.  There were parties.  My former boss went to a Gates-viewin' party at a penthouse apartment on Central Park West... that kind of thing.

 

I wondered if it were all pretentiousness, but when I saw the Gates in person, I was converted into a wholehearted fan.  Later that year, I saw footage of the duo's decades preparing artworks around the world.  They kept going up notches in my book, because I was gaining a sense of what phenomenal artists they were.  First off, they were devoted to each other as if it were second nature.  Such a cosmic, beautiful love story was there between them. 

 

When I learned that they worked tirelessly, debating with municipalities and mayors, and passing other obstacles in order to get their artworks finished, I realized this team was passionate far beyond what I see in many people.  I started to feel defensive of them when people would act like the Gates were ridiculous.  I felt protective and endeared towards them.  They were visionaries who had to win people over who couldn't see the worth in the art.  They seemed so young even though they were about 70 years old.

 

They don't accept outside funding for their work, they don't make a profit, and it is to be viewed free of charge. 

 

Some words paraphrased from their website:

"Christo and Jeanne-Claude pay the entire cost of the artworks themselves. They earn all of the money through the sale of the preparatory studies, early works from the 1950s and 1960s and original lithographs.  They do not accept grants or volunteer help. They do not accept money for things like posters, postcards, books, films, T-shirt and mugs or any other products at all.  Christo and Jeanne-Claude firmly believe that to accept deals of this kind would alter and compromise their art.  Refusing this money assures they are working in total freedom." 

 

I eventually met them at this little chilled out place after an event, never knowing that would happen.  They reminded me of one of my best painter friends from Europe and her boyfriend (now husband).  I didn't say too much, or take photos, or ask for autographs or anything when it happened, because that isn't something I would do.  But it was exciting and if I had known she wouldn't be on the planet in a few years, I would have spoken my thanks to her a little more than I did.  She taught me things at a pivotal time in my life.  She gave me a few gems about being an artist and a woman in love.  I think I'll carry that with me.

 

What do you guys think of these artists?  I remember the Gates made me walk to parts of Central Park I never would have gone to.  They made the white snow and brownish gray of Manhattan look like a canvas.  The wind was the paintbrush manipulating the color, the fabric hanging from each saffron colored arch was the paint. 

 

They made thousands of people feel connected.  You walked like an explorer.  The color changed your mood.  You saw people up ahead of you. Likewise, the people behind you saw you ahead of them.   For a few weeks our perceptions of the park and of the other park goers were altered.  It was as if we were all swimming in the same current.

 

 

I never expected to meet these two, and I never expected that the experience would leave such a deep and lasting impression on me.  Thank you Jeanne-Claude... I'll never forget you.  Rest in peace.

Speaking of pale beige dresses

A nude-colored dress from my closet.  It's short and sweet.

 

 

via i'myourpresent

High tea

 

Over The Hill - Alessi's Ark Official Video

Alessi's Ark| MySpace Video

I think the singer sounds a bit like she has hiccups.  Which grew on me.  And as if she were honeyed on her tongue and throat.  This is the vid for the song "Over the Hill" and is about 3 mins.  Some of my favorite things can be found in it.

- Silky black bows

- Nude-colored dresses

- See-through white dress (akin to my favorites from Charles Anastase runways)

- Gilded tea cups with painted flowers

- A miniature tea cup  (I have one, oddly enough. I don't place it in my mouth the way she does)

- Stacks of jam sandwiches 

I don't often eat jam sandies.  But I take pleasure in the way they look.  The sticky stacks.  They remind me of books from childhood.  I recommend thumbing through "The Winter That Would Not End" (1982, art by Mercedes Llimona) and "Zlateh The Goat"  (1966, art by Maurice Sendak)

- Tugging off cotton socks

- Sugar cubes (I love how they upwardly drink in the tea's color)

- Things overflowing and spilling

- Antique wooden floors and the palest colors (Makes me think of Scandinavian interior design at its most rustic)

- Swimming swans, hopping rabbits, galloping horses, and an owl turning its head.

- Stop motion animation

- Chipped paint on walls (if you were to see the places I've worked, you'd know how much this look has inspired me in the past)

- A more sophisticated version of the tea party that Lewis Carroll's Alice attended... or tea on one's own, or with ghostly guests 

- A feather fascinator in her hair

- A gray cat like my sister's

- An upbeat love song, layered with a little darkness

Behind the Scenes footage (2 and a half mins)

Over The Hill (Behind The Scenes)

Alessi’s Ark| MySpace Video

A strange little coincidence is that two people in my life exposed me to Alessi's Ark.  They didn't try to.  First one friend hosted a show Alessi played in the U.S.  A second friend traveled to Europe to perform with her a few months later.  If two people I really respected liked Alessi so much, it means she must be made of good stuff.

 

At some point, I scooped up the EP called Bedroom Bound.  It flew over from the musician's home in England... it was tightly tucked in its blanket, a rectangular cd case she sewed.  This was a couple of years ago, when Alessi was still a 16 or 17 yr old kid recording in her bedroom.  When I hear an Alessi's Ark song now, there's a moment when I think of those two pals who are dear to me.

 

 

I'm so happy because she has made some cool videos this year.  I hear that she was signed to EMI and is being appreciated by a much wider audience now.  I'm thrilled that she's able to distribute her creations in copious amounts.  That's gotta be good for mankind.  I'm touched when good things happen to good people.

 

 

Photo by Rebecca Miller

Hallow's Eve lollies

On Halloween, my favorite toddler got to taste a lollipop. Usually, lollipops are off limits, since they have too much sugar and can be hazardous.  Bummer.  The good news is that they taste 100 times better when they are a rare treat.

The photos I took were in low light, but I love them.  I think the flash would have changed the look.  It was after all a Halloween party and what better time for a house to be shadowy?

My siblings and I don't think about this much because it was long ago, but my father was skipped ahead a few years in school (aw, he's such a smarty-pants) and now this little one is following the family tradition. But he did it in grade school.  Her pre-school recently said she should be put with the kids a couple of years above her.  Nursery school seems early to make this leap.  I think skipping kids ahead is not as simple a decision as it may seem.  Social, emotional, and physical maturity are factors, not only your intellect.  Her intellect definitely needs to be challenged and that won't happen if she's with kids who are way behind her.  She's doing some math and basic reading, counting in English and Spanish, and even rocks a bit of French.  The best is hearing her identify colors in more than one language.  Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, violet, pink, brown, gray, black and white.  Oh my goodness, her little voice is music to my ears.  She learns a song the first time she hears it.  I can't help but be proud of these two nerds.  I'll call them secret nerds.  They seem almost too cool and silly to be nerdy.  I have seen all these black and white photos of my dad when he was younger, he was a bit like Marlon Brando and Gene Kelly combined.  Not only how he looked but how he conducted himself.  He's always very humble, so occasionally I can stand to be a bragasaurus rex about him.  Here are Zorro and a sweet baby clown.  An unlikely pair. 

Glow-sticks got us through the rainy night!

I love you when you're scruffy

Love him, love the picture.

A secret sign language, perhaps? If my bf did this to me across the room at a party, I'd need to kiss him very soon.  What is it about him?  Is it the clothes, the hair, the scruff?  Yes.  But mainly I like the combo of nerdy and cool.

And you give yourself away

xo

I want to give things to you.  I'll be back soon.

Speaking of Grey Gardens

 Three pumpkins.

I took the photo above because I couldn't believe how red the pumpkins were this year, and I was equally enthralled with the pale ones.
 
Hello to my readers and pals, and to all the beauties of fall.

I also noticed the gourds were bird-shaped.  I took a pic of this posing pair:
 
 
  
So far, this page is meant to be an inspiration journal, more than it’s meant to share my life story.  The tricky part is that I'll feel incomplete if I only talk about pretty things and things owned, without telling you about me as a person.  I do hope to share more and more of myself as this little blog progresses.  Especially my hand made paintings and things I sew.  This page is called My Summer of Love, so I should probably write more about love, too.

Since Grey Gardens has been a topic of conversation for some of my favorite artists, bloggers, and wonderful people I know this year, it's a good time to tell you some more about my life.  I've spent some of my career in places that, you might say, echo the beauty of Grey Gardens.  Some of these mansions were "homes away from home" for me.  I was steeped in them.  Metaphorically I became a heaping spoonful of tea leaves; the buildings were teapots I was poured into and left to brew in.

Misty morning:

 

My blog is making me realize I'm interested in the concept of humans being understood by one another...on some level, I think blogs can be about that.  I'm sure much of this stems from the fact that I'm communicating with new people on My Summer of Love.  So I'm not only speaking to close friends but also to people who do not know me well.    I shouldn't give much thought to being understood... I remind friends and family to re-read their Ralph Waldo Emerson when they have similar concerns.  I should take my own Emersonian advice when it comes to blogging!  Mr. E would want me to transcend those notions.

With that said, I'll share a little.

At one mansion, after our curatorial work, we'd peel off our thin white cotton curating gloves and go eat lunch in the rose garden.  We'd play badminton in the grass under towering evergreens and dive into a very private swimming pool.  Brrr.  Historic in-ground diving pools are deep and cold as the Dickens.  My teeth chattering commenced and goosebumps came, even on the HOTTEST days.  My friend and I cooled off, got some exercise, and played. We were carefree.  Looking back on it, it was like heaven.
 
18th - 20th century fine art, ancient artifacts, and a surprising amount of equestrian tack were all over.  The properties contained a sort of patchwork of the past and the present.  They were treasure troves. 

My work places weren't like the Beales' residence, of Grey Gardens fame, had become in the late 1960s and early 70s.  The ones I came to were neither filthy nor disturbing.   But, they were similar in that they were buildings that told stories of "the life before."  It's sad to hear about all the bizarreness and decay that descended upon the Edies.  They were beautiful human beings, according to the stories.

When I spent time doing museum work in architectural jewel boxes, the buildings were clean and spacious.  They had electricity, running water, and funding.  Money and good people are the two most fundamental elements required to protect old buildings and make them shine. 

I snapped this of a doe mother and her spotted baby fawn:

They had lovely "bones" and we were supposed to return them to their original luster.  We were assigned to curate the collections.  We had to transform homes into something that tourists and academics could drink up.  They were going to be used as places of beauty and centers of learning. 

At some places where I worked, things had been destroyed, vandalized, or left to the elements.  Other places where I worked, the collections were intact- every painting, teacup, letter, silhouette.

I've had the good fortune of spending days upon days of my life in rural settings.   Of course there is a city girl inside me and there always will be, but even when I lived in my apt up high in the sky, one of my many blessings was that I could travel to an oasis every week, down close to the earth or the sea.

 

In 1954, Irving Berlin wrote, "Count your blessings (instead of sheep)."  I try to follow the philosophy.   I think this blog is helping me to do it, even more than I did before.

 

Here are a few photos from these times in my life.
 

Fashion shoots in old buildings are effortlessly romantic.   We did fashion shoots a plenty.

An awesome effect comes through the camera whenever gorgeous models are photographed against the imperfection of distressed buildings.

The photos of the model were taken by a professional for a catalog.

Here's another photo I took-  I've always loved fireplaces.  This one was taller than I was. 

The heat, the scents, the glowing embers of a fireplace are addictive in my opinion.  I grew up with one and now I always want a house with one.

In the city I remember seeing so many fireplaces that weren't in use, and I always thought it was a shame. If you live in a building where logs aren't allowed, you may be able to put some smokeless dripless candles in your fireplace...pillar candles can look pretty. 

 
Luxurious fabrics contrasted with chipped paint and old woodwork.

 

 
I hope this gives you a window into some of my experiences. 

To work on projects like these, you had to be a "visionary," which I tried to be, and hope that I'll continue to be for the rest of my life.  In my experience curating, you can only do the work if you are a person who cares about honoring the past and enjoying the future.
 

 
 
Some of these photos were taken by me, some by people I worked with.  The fashion shoot scans are a bit grainy, but in person the models in the rooms were breathtaking. 

One day I'd like to show you even more photos, if you enjoy these.

Here's wishing that you soak up the beauty all around you this week!

Currently listening to:  "Feels Like Home" written by Randy Newman 1993, performed by Edwina Hayes 2009

Heathered gray

I have a new dress.

When it touched my skin I felt a bit like a she-wolf.

These images make me think of the lyrics "What was golden went gray," from the album The Milk-Eyed Mender. 

This dress is mini-skirt length.  It doesn't look that way so much on this model, which surprises me.  I think it's the tall grass creating an optical illusion.  Or, with any luck, I'm proportioned with fairly long legs for my height.  I'm barely five foot three and it looks very mini skirt-ish on me.  It has a great square neckline, with cool braided edges.  One of the best parts is a silky lining inside.  It was made by LuLu Via.

At the risk of a non-sequitor, let's rally to support the recovery of wolves from the brink of extinction. I mean it wholeheartedly.  We need to follow our heartstrings when they are tugged.  Are any of you guys lovers of wolves?  I used to have a print of a howling wolf in the snow. It was beautiful and I kept it in my room growing up.  Now I rely on India Richer paintings for that effect.

Photography above by Stephanie Williams.

I'll include a 2 minute vid below, unrelated to the photographer or dress maker.

It's called "Living With Wolves."

Explains that only 52 Mexican gray wolves exist in the wild in 2009.

They are the most endangered mammals in North America.

What is becoming of this world?

Sweet ladies and gentlemen... may we all strive to be good, and care for the beasts who cannot speak for themselves.

Currently listening to:  Peach Plum Pear by Joanna Newsom, 2004

For those who actually want to help, there are many ways. Here is one: clickable link of petitions and ways to save wolves

Dalmatian at Grey Gardens

It seems the Bouvier family had a Dalmatian in the mid 20th century. 

I've had a few dogs in my life and loved them all very much.  But when it comes to my Dalmatian, she's like a little sister to me. 

I was pleased to find an old black and white photograph of Edith "little Edie" Beale with a dal.  This photo was likely taken during her fashion model days. 

I looked a bit further into the family history, and realized that this is probably Jacqueline Kennedy's dog.  I'm happy to know that a wonderful dog like mine was wandering at Grey Gardens on East Hampton, during the estate's heyday.  As an artist, I conjure up dream-like visuals of those summer days.   You can nearly smell the salty sea air if you try.

Little galaxy in your hand

Dear mother nature, you never cease to amaze. 

Have you ever heard of or worn a druzy? 

I think they look like little galaxies in your hand. 

I just love the idea that you could have a piece of the sky secretly pressed in your palm. 

Or a droplet full of stars hanging around your neck.

They look sugar dipped.  Like gum drops and spice drops.  They look wet.  The grey or white ones look salty.

One of my favorite visuals is freshly powdered Turkish Delight, and druzzies remind me of the old fashioned treat. I first learned of it when I was very young, reading the classic novel, "The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe" by C.S. Lewis.  The White Witch asks the future King what he would like more than anything, and this is what he asks for.  She conjures it up, he eats it all.  They are in the snow, in her sleigh, and she covers him with a fur cape.

"It is dull, Son of Adam, to drink without eating," said the Queen presently. "What would you like best to eat?"

"Turkish Delight, please, your Majesty."

The Queen let another drop fall from her bottle onto the snow, and instantly there appeared a round box, tied with a green silk ribbon, which, when opened, turned out to contain several pounds of Turkish Delight. Each piece was sweet and light to the very centre and Edmund had never tasted anything more delicious. He was quite warm now, and very comfortable.

Personally, I don't actually eat it.  It is too sweet for me.  Yet, I'm so happy that it comes in the flavor of roses, or even rolled in pistachios.  Turkish delight has a special place in my mind, and simply looking at it does wonders for me.  I'll do a post about it some day, with pictures, history, and recipes.

Back to the druzzies.  If you meet a fetching person with such jewelry, or a bowl full in their home, they are hard semi-precious stones, not fruit.   Don't bite them :)

A druzy (also spelled drusy, drusie, or druzie) is derived from volcanic rock or quartz.

A little description I read, when I wanted to know exactly what they were:

"When water carrying dissolved silica is forced into a cavity in a rock and rapid cooling occurs, tiny crystals are formed on the surfaces of the rock cavity and form druzy. Most people have heard of a geode. When the crystalline surface is small enough inside the geode,  it is called druzy."

I'll insert some other-than-druzy photos here.  As an artist and nature lover, I'm into pink and flesh toned chunks of our earth, and I think they all go together in this post.  These are a type of opal.

How amazing is all that we have at our fingertips? 

They look as though they were harvested from another planet.

photo credit for first image: sparklecouture

A short love story in stop motion

 

A couple of pencil-outlined birds escape from a little girl´s drawing, leading us through the life she dreams of.

 

Carlos Lascano directed this. 

The music is by Sigur Ros. 

It's 3 minutes long.

The peace of wild things

  
I wish I could ride my own horse every day.  At least every Thursday.  I love that the day is named for a god from Norse mythology. 
 
There's so much about Scandinavia that I'm drawn to.  I fall in love with certain things in life, random items that cross my path, as we all do.  But extreemely often, I discover my favorite things originated from that part of the globe.   When I say this, I'm not only referring to world-renowned Scandinavian things.   I don't really mean how I fell for Kay Nielsen's art, and after I bought his book, I learned he was a Dane.  I'm sure he has millions of fans.

What I mean is, even when I pick out a pair of booties, down the line I'll invariably discover the pattern was Nordic.  I'm unknowingly surrounded by pieces of their culture in my home.  I was attracted to the Carlo Van de Roer photo of the man in the lagoon, long before I knew Carlo took it in Iceland.  I bought some beautiful lights made of needle-felted wool.  The artist was French, and once we got to talking, she told me her fibers came from Icelandic sheep.  The visual of those particular herds-- their wooly coats dotting the hills of that island nation-- it's too good to be true.  Now when I look at those lights I think of that country.
 
I occasionally look for artist in residence programs there.  I seriously considered leaving New York behind and going there for a spell.  If there were such a thing as past lives, I would dare say:  I once was Icelandic. 
 
The word Thursday, some of you know, means thunder-day.  Lili surely remembers more about ancient mythology than I do now.  I'm rusty on the subject.
 
Some writers identify Thor as another version of Jupiter.  In English, we are saying Thor's day, while the lovely French ("jeudi") and Spanish ("jueves") are calling it Jupiter's day.
 
I don't know what all this has to do with today's photos really.  Let's talk about these photos.  These scenes aren't Scandinavian-inspired, they are Native American.  The girls and animals seem at peace.   The peace of wild things.
 
On the other hand, we could be looking at Sioux warrior horses.  The riders may be glowing and victorious after a battle. 

I  love how tall the crowns are,
 
how the coats of the horses look spotted with clouds or smoke,
 
and how a painted hand was placed, open palm, on the triceps muscle. 

 

Have a wonderful Thunder-day, my dear readers. 

I'll leave you with a little spot of poetry!

"When despair for the world grows in me, and I wake in the night at the least sound, in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be, I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds. I come into the peace of wild things, who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief. I come into the presence of still water. And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light. For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free." - poem by Wendell Berry, born 1934

Currently listening to:  Jóga by Björk, 1997

Video directed by Michel Gondry

 

(the two photos above were originally published in: i-d mag. source: scout-holiday) 

 

A dress that makes me feel like a glass of bourbon

 
This dress, named "Café au lait," was made by an artistic team in New Orleans.
 
Wish I'd had the pleasure of wearing this earlier in the season.  I'll gladly wear it with bare legs next summer.
 
It's a dress I could picture myself reading a lot in, and handwriting letters in.
 
Sewing, drawing, kissing, hugging, taking photos, planting flowers, dirtying my knees in it, canoeing, admiring spiderwebs, etc.

(Lili, Adrienne, and my family all randomly mentioned spiders/spiderwebs this week. I have those conversations on my mind.)

I'm purposefully leaving painting off the list, because I don't want to get paint on this dress!  When you're a painter, you start out with your normal clothes and your smaller set of painting clothes.   Eventually your "painting clothes" are a bigger handful of pieces than you thought.  You get paint on you and it aint coming off.  That's one reason I've gotten into aprons.
 
The dress is pure cotton.  Pretty simple, yet bedecked with lace, crochet, a doily or two, cap sleeves, and a touch of grey.
 

 
I told the girls who created it that the dress will be cherished in a good home for many moons--
 
Unless I get soaked in a bayou, and a gator tears the delicate frock while I'm swimmin and wrestlin out of it.
 
It was saturated then faded, to a wonderful effect.  I bet their recipe was:

- dip in coffee at Café du Monde,
 
- pour on foamy steamed milk,
 
- add a drop of rose petal water to bring out a hint of pink.
 
- Drape over an iron balcony in the French Quarter,

- Tie it on the branch of a tree covered with Spanish moss
 
- Wash and dry in the sun.
 
After all the care they put into it, I've got a romantic soft dress full of character and charm.
 
I'm pretending those are the ingredients they used.  Shhh...let me dream.
 
The dress is also a little the color of
skin,
 
 
 
flushed cheeks,
sunrise,
or red clay earth.
 
There's certainly pressure at my job, maybe in "my field" as a whole, to dress as if you've gone to finishing school.  I enjoy looking like a grown-up Nancy Drew whenever I can, and I feel comfortable in a pleated kilt, Peter-Pan-collared blouse, a trench, pea coat, or any number of choices.  I wish I could manage to buy more Burberry, Paul Smith, or outfits resembling those collections, because I love that stuff.  But I like to wear clothes that are nearly the opposite plenty of times...clothing that shows you can still be a lady while you honor the part of you that's down de bayou.
 
One day I'll show you photos of me actually wearing these things out of my closet, if you'd like?  They look really pretty on their own, though.  If you need to imagine them on a person, please picture a ghost girl inside them for now. 
 
A ghost in my clothes!  Sounds like a poem I could write, or a song one of my friends could play.
 
I'm brand new to blogging.  I can't imagine modeling all of my clothes for the world wide web.  I kind of want to some day.  I fig I'll get there in due time, and I hope that suits you fine, lovely readers.
 
Do you ever feel confused by blogging because it seems too ego-centric?  I'm not entirely comfy with it for various reasons.  That's a whole worthwhile topic of its own, and I won't change this post to be about that.  I will say that I guess you find your groove in a blog eventually. 
 

I'm waxing poetic about something so small here-- a dress I own.  Maybe that's what this site's purpose is right now, stopping to smell the roses.
 
I've always looked at the world as an artist, and I like sharing those eyes with you.   It's more than swell having you along for the ride.  Please keep commenting, emailing, and sharing your take on things.  You inspire.
 

 
Currently listening to:
 
"I Wish I Was In New Orleans"
 
by Tom Waits, 1976

The true story of peacocks gone astray

 

Part of my job is working with scholars.  They'll ask me questions, I'll read lots, and give them the answers.  Other times, I'll direct them to someone I know, or to a good book, or whatever I think would be best for them.  

Occasionally, a researcher comes to see me because of an exhibit they'd seen years ago that I did.  They want to write a book or thesis and my exhibition was part of their inspiration.  That is one of my favorite things to hear.

We work together on and off for months, solving mysteries together. 

A few days ago, I heard a heartbreaking animal story from one of these authors, as we sat there with our curatorial gloves.  She works for a modern art museum...one of my favorite museums, which I won't name, but where I saw a fantastic Marisol Escobar show. 

Naturally, after working, we get to talking about things aside from the project at hand. 

At first I was excited, as she mentioned she had a story she thought I'd like to hear.  It was about a white bird with a few dappled gold feathers that she'd encountered.  She said the unexpected visitor was eating her flower and vegetable gardens, would come and go without a schedule, and had been doing so for weeks. 

A white bird?  My ears perked up.  White birds are some of my favorite things.  My brain filled with images of pale wing-ed things.  

She explained that she had no idea what species it was.  I was surprised, and I silently went through the possibilities in my head.

Let's start out simple.

- Dove?  

No, her bird sounded enormous.

- Swan? 

No, even the least bird-loving person could identify the neck of a swan, right? 

- Seagull?  

No, too commonplace.  The bird she saw was extraordinary.

I said to myself, "Come on, Heather!"

- Cockatoo? 

No, they are practically human and are attached to their owners.

- Pelican? 

No, I loved watching pelicans swim and fly in Bonaire. While I'm not an official ornithologist, I believe they prefer warm climates and bodies of water, rather than the gardens of a New Yorker.

- Egret? 

I occasionally spot one near my home. 

It's settled then...I figured that it must be an egret, or some kind of albino eagle she crossed paths with.

Well...

It was none of the above.

The update to the story- she newly discovered it was a peacock.  Which is startling, because even though they are collected, peafowl are not wild in this country.  Peacocks are native to Asia, and are the national bird of India. 

This one looks painted, but it's not.  It is real and alive.

Image source: link

If your neighbor had a peacock, you would know.

 

She asked her neighbors.  No one knew whose bird it was.  The authorities connected her with the owner, miles away in another town.  My hopes were high as she described the man coming to reunite with the lost bird.  

(I envisioned a real-life "Man In The Yellow Hat" from the Curious George books)

The scholar told me that no one had seen the bird fly before.  The owner and the bird's caretaker arrived and said:

"it couldn't-- wouldn't-- doesn't fly."   

Lo and behold, it took off when they tried to catch it.  The peacock soared to a rooftop.

They tried to sprinkle water onto the bird with a hose.  They said this would surely make it unable to fly once wet, but it flew away even further.  It vanished again.

The two men left empty-handed, and there were no further sightings.

Thereafter, the mate (who'd been left behind) ran away from home as well.

I couldn't believe it.  I wish I had seen it all and been able to help.

 

Even though I want them to be free, I'm quite worried about their survival once the snowy months arrive.

There is a romance going on...there are actually three peafowl. 

The plot kept thickening.

 

 

It is a love triangle...neither bird is in love with the bird that loves it back. 

So...first one left,

then the other,

then the other. 

These lovesick birds.  I cannot blame them for straying.  If you are being hounded by someone whom you do not want, it can be maddening.  On the other hand, if a creature feels unrequited love, it can drive the lover himself mad. 

Can there be a happy end to it?

The fact that a white peacock is out there wandering for months is unbelievable to me.  It must look like a ghost when it appears and disappears. A ghost wearing a crown and a cape.  

I'm still praying they all come home. 

Wherever you are, dear bird, I wish you well. 

May you be healthy, happy, taken care of, and in love. 

I have high hopes for you since I heard that you flew, when no one believed you could. 

  

A Snail Tale, Part 2

I received a lot of great emails and comments on the other post. Thank you, lovely readers!

As a bonus, I'm sharing these two.

The fashion shoot was done for the French design house Hermès.

 

Photographs by Tim Walker via clickable link

I set out running but I take my time

Bear in mind, this first photo was taken with an iPhone.  I went to a party where there was a snail in a garden.  I realize they eat plants, and people don't like when there are too many.  However, I rarely see them anywhere.  I know people buy them for aquariums, because they are good for that type of ecosystem, as they eat algae.  I cannot vilify them.  I placed one in my hand.  He was nestled in tight and looked like an empty shell.  Other guests told me he'd never come out.  Let me totally nerd out and say slugs are not snails; they are two different animals.  I sat calmly with him in my hand.  He felt safe with me, eventually, and curious of what this alabaster hand was like.  He slowly stuck out his feelers.  It was not at all gross, it was adorable and only lasted a few moments.  These animals look ancient to me.  They are creations of the universe, or God's creations, or whatever you believe, as much as we are.
 

 
This summer I received a magazine called Paper, by an artistic Swedish company called Acne.  It flew to me all the way from Scandinavia, a place I'm enamored of.  It arrived in tissue paper with paint splatters and drip marks.

My favorite part of the issue is Tim Walker's shoot called Slow Down.  I snapped a couple of pictures of the magazine by a thicket, abuzz with honey bees.  
 
  

Above is what I took today.  Below is the uninterrupted original version by Mr. Walker

 
It isn't a glossy publication, which made for awesome photos in today's fading sunlight.  I enjoy seeing the shadows. 

The spread shows a girl modeling for us in an attractive and sparse living space...looks as if it is kept as a meeting spot for two lovers.  They rendezvous here and knock over lamps.
 

 
There's a larger than life snail on the wall, on the bed, and under the table.  There's something sexy about the animals, and I'm not positive why, precisely. They're fascinating with their horns, hard shells, hypnotic spirals, and stickiness.  Some say they are beautiful, others say they are horrid.  What say you? 
 

 
One of the pages shows the girl raising her chin.
 
I put a real violet on the page... you get a sense of how enormous the pages are.

 

In a small way, it reminds me of a sculpture I learned about in college, called

Saint Theresa In Ecstasy. 

 

It was made in the 1600s by the artist Bernini.
 

 
The shoot has a little touch of the Baroque period.
 
Something else I could tell you is that one of Aesop's fables was called

"The Snail and the Mirror."
 
I notice the model is holding a mirror in a few of these; it's very subtle.  I'm not saying the set designers were definitely thinking of the fable.   Still I thought I'd point out the possibility.
 
You're encouraged to click on every photo, until I widen this column.  I want you to see the silhouettes from the thistle flowers!  Those details turned out beautifully... the shadows looked like paintbrush strokes, thanks to the sun setting while I photographed.

Artist in my home: Madelyn Mulvaney

 
   
"Tempest in a Teacup"
 
 
   
"The Muse Returns"
 
These two photographs are on my walls.

They are square, hand signed / hand titled, and came in a parcel filled with good vibes.  I want to make this middle column wider, so that you can see the full photos whenever I show artwork on my blog.  Any wizards who know the trick, send me an email and tell me how.
 
One day I'd like to share interior shots of my home with you.  You'll be able to view my art collection in the context in which I see it each day.  

Both were taken by a photographer named Madelyn Mulvaney.
 
(photos appear on My Summer of Love with her permission)

There is something about that tower of cups that does wonders for me. 

I feel the overcast sky.  I cannot tell if the storm is clearing up or just getting started. 

I get pleasure out of the saucer filled with sea water. 
 
I like the fact that waves are crashing while something beautiful, that we'd expect to be fragile, stands solid and tall through the surges.
 
The teacups could hold magic in them and could be causing the change in the wind.  Who knows what storms are lurking in those vessels?
 
We're unsure if the stack eventually crashes into shards.   The broken pieces could float out to the depths of the ocean and wash up on a foreign shore with their sharp edges smoothed away by sands and journeys. 
 
All we have is this moment that she captured, and it is ours to think of as we please. 
 
Thank you Maddie for the water in motion. 

Thank you for the brightness of the china and the gilded lips.
 

I wish I had a green typewriter of that shade.  I would love to collect old typewriters, yet they'd present a space issue in New York City.  Even in my current home, where I have more space, I cannot imagine keeping more than one.  My friend Kerri knows there is a specific brand of antique typewriter that I've wanted for a long time in a certain pale color...but you know what Kerri, this green one is looking pretty good to me now too.

I can collect images for my walls; I don't need a room full of heavy metal typing machines, I know. I do think having one of the real deal is worthwhile though.  All you really need is one, when you want to play your fingers across the keys, watch your thoughts turn into literature, and hear the clack of metal letters and ink against paper.

Maddie is a warm and whimsical person, in my experiences with her.
 
More of her work will be coming to My Summer of Love, and I'll tell you a little about the great lady herself.
 
Today, I had to share the pair of images I bought from her.
  
She taught me that when you are feeling like a tempest in a teacup, you make yourself a cup of sea tea.

Anina and the Wolf

 

 

 

 

The copyrights on Anina images are owned by my amiga... a dear, talented girl and beauty, Angela Muss.  These pictures are shown on My Summer of Love with her permission. 

I'm going to write more on Angela.  Right now I just want to make sure I posted this strip of the "Anina y el Lobo" story. 

Sunday mornings are some of the best times to swim around at your favorite blogs.  I want you guys to know I'm here full of things to share with you.   I may do an interview with Angela one day.  She is from Barcelona, my old home town, and is a children's book illustrator.  Her work reminds me of Dutch picture books I read as a child. 

The protagonist, Anina, thinks quickly on her feet.  She is precocious, pretty, quiet, industrious, loves nature and painting, saves trees, drives a wind-up car, and has an enormous poof of red hair. 

My day is unexpectedly full, with a family brunch party, and being called to work at the museum last minute.  I'll add more about Angela's art; stay tuned.  I feel blessed that we're pals, and I want the world to know how great she is.

Summer birthdays

"They were delicious. So sweet and so cold."

- William Carlos Williams

I went to many parties this summer... here are a few of my snapshots. 

I celebrated birthdays for young, old, and in between.

My favorite little girl with a bow I'd given her.  It was handmade of vintage white silk:

"I wonder if I shall fall right through the earth!  How funny it'll seem to come out among the people that walk with their heads downwards!"

- Alice's Adventures In Wonderland, by Lewis Carroll

We call him Ollie, he's the owl usually perched high.  His head moves with the wind and he keeps all the birds from flying into large clean windows.

I enjoyed the indoor/outdoor pool, which is so unusual, you can swim through the wall.

I blew up these pink, peach, flesh-colored, and lavender balloons:

I watched a waterfall

Perfectly rare tuna with sesame seed crust, avocado, lemon, wild greens (so healthy if you remove crispy noodle on top)

Baked clams were served with homemade pasta and light brothy sauce

Cupcake

- Rose blooms made out of new tomatoes

- Yellow corn and black bean salad

- Rasp-, straw-, blue-, and blackberries

- Wood plate of bite-sized and heart-shaped tarts, with artfully done marzipan

Hung out with my bright, cool Carolina cousin Casey

We laid on white blankets:

Drank mimosas at the golf course:

Last but not least, here's the little beauty clutching my Japanese parasol. This was taken on our property. I love the way the yard always has a generous amount of both sunshine and shade. It's as if someone from the sky took a pencil, and drew a soft zig zag right down the middle. A perfect balance.

I adore her serious face. As an adult, if someone took your photo with traces of sunblock all over you, I doubt you'd look as cool.

Currently listening to:

Summertime, written by Gershwin, 1935

performed by Billie Holiday, 1936

Summertime, and the living is easy
Fish are jumping, and the cotton is high.
Your daddy's rich, and your ma is good looking
So hush little baby, don't you cry.

One of these mornings,
you're gonna rise up singing.
You're gonna spread your wings and take the sky.
But till that morning,
there is nothing can harm you
With your daddy and mommy standing by.

Artist in my heart: Carlo Van de Roer

 

I'm running to a pool party for Nicole.  I don't want to go 3+ days without posting.  I'll likely do some polishing on this entry tonight.  For now, let me share some images I've been wanting to post. Click on each photo for its full splendor.

 

 

One of my favorite photographers is Carlo Van de Roer.  I can't remember how I was introduced to him.  I believe it was when I spent time in Jen Bekman's gallery in Manhattan, back when I was friendly with Amy Ross.  I must have come across Carlo's work then.  He was one of Jen's "hot shots" right around the time Amy had a show there. 

Carlo, in my experience, has been a very cool guy. This comes as no surprise, because his images are some of the most cooling, soothing, breathtaking scenes of humans interacting with water.  The hues are ghostly in all of them.  Carlo makes me feel as if I've taken a swim.

I'm really into the one right above this paragraph; it was taken in Iceland.   Looks to me like a man with arms outstretched, floating on his back, close to Nirvana. The sea is a dazzling color and reminds me of a milk bath. There's a long cloud of steam or ocean spray on the periphery, which will consume this man (or has already passed over him). It could be something sinister and menacing that approaches, or it could bring salvation to his soul. It's possible we're witnesses to the moment he reaches ultimate peace or ecstasy. It's up to you.

How he managed these shots is miraculous to me. Perhaps Carlo was floating like an orb himself, and was invisible to the people who were his subjects.

 

 

Do you think the man above will be swept out to sea?  He seems willing, to me.

I never want this series to end.  I felt his snowy one wasn't suited for today, a summer Sunday, so, I'm sorry Carlo and readers, I left the snow-themed one out.  However, the snow shot is probably my favorite of all in the series, and will make an appearance come winter.

 

 

In Carlo's own words:

 

The term "orb" is typically used to describe circular artifacts in photographs-- artifacts which by some have been interpreted as spirits.  Despite being debunked and explained (most commonly as backscatter from precipitation or dust), there's a surprisingly widespread belief that orb photographs document the supernatural.  There are organizations, conferences, hunts, field experts, detectors, and websites dedicated to spiritual orb photography.

 

This photographic search for something larger than ourselves was the starting point for this project.  I photographed people in landscapes that are partly obscured by precipitation.  The subjects are seen searching for or interacting with orbs, which are represented as dots covering parts of the scene.  The prints are displayed together, to be read as a group. 

 

 

Carlo is originally from New Zealand.  He currently lives and works in New York City. His photos were used on my blog with his permission.  

 

 

If you ever want for your own, his prints are for sale: here and here.

Image source: www.vanderoer.com

For the object of my affection

 

 

There's a certain someone who makes me feel all the things Scarlett Johansson expresses in this.

image source: link

Fresh peaches

 

Yesterday on my way home I had to pull over, when I saw a roadside stand that our neighbors had placed out. 

As you can see above, a pile o' peaches had tumbled into the grass.

Don't fall, you sweet fuzzy babies

 

Our neighborhood has orchards:

 

and farms, alongside estates and cottages.  It's really a joyful place to live.  

They aren't commercial, they are for joie de vivre.

Across the street, horses were in the distance. My eyes could see them better than the camera could. One white horse moved like a ghost among the rich browns.

6 seconds:

Sun was going down and I know it was getting too dark for photos, but there was a hint of pastel watercolor in the sky.

 

Of course I picked the one with all the leaves:

 

All you've got to do is fall in love

 

A few of my favorite things from

"A Girl For The Afternoon"

- the pansy-violets painted on teacups

- the twirling painted Japanese umbrellas

- the glorious winds in the desert

- the orbs 

- the glittered water swishing inside

- the jewels on skin (I used to wear my tiniest palest pink gemstone on special occasions)

- the antique birdcages

- sparklers

- sunset coloring someone's hair

- patterned tights

- galoshes

- backless dresses (my favorite backless dress is one I bought in Barcelona)

- cream-colored Japanese kimonos with huge printed flowers

- clothes hung on a drying line  (why do I love clothes-lines so much...they must remind me of Bonaire)

I'm dying to know how they got that pinkish violet smoke.  Does anyone know?  I'd love to try it out in my woods.

Sasha recently posted an entry about a moon mirror she found.  She took photos of the mirror reflecting the California landscape. 

There was talk of a photographer who had taken comparable pics in Illinois:

 

  

 

It all reminded me of the little music video I saw earlier this year.  In the vid, there is a moment when a mirror reflects a landscape.  The mirror rests between a model's legs, facing the desert.   It was so lovely and stayed in my memory.  I like the entire video and want to share it with you guys.  

I'd seen dozens of photos of that day's fashion shoot, on an artist pal's website this year.  I never knew there was a little movie filmed.  It was such a happy surprise.  It is on YouTube and Blip Boutique's website.  By the way I have a crush on their guy who talks about Russians.  It's eerie, he reminds me of several old boyfriends.  Not just the way he looks but the way he talks. 

The video was extra appealing to me, because one of the girls involved with the dreamy footage was someone I was friendly with for a spell of time, many moons ago.  We've not connected much in ages, but her artwork is in my home, and I once gave her one of my rad old books (a book I will do a post about some time - I think you guys would like to see photos of how beautiful and spooky a field guide it is):

Lyrics

Wouldn't it be sweet if you could be in love with me, the way that I'm in love with you?  It's so easy to do.

All you've got to do is fall in love

All you've got to do is fall in love

All you've got to do is fall in love with me.

And everyday you don't, it's wasted.  And every night alone is your fault.

The sweetest lips I've ever tasted...the only lips I'll ever want.

 

All you've got to do is fall in love

All you've got to do is fall in love

All you've got to do is fall in love with me

 

-Song by Benji Hughes-

Photos in this post (except the mirror girl and fairy book) are from: the moldy doily and JMM clothing lookbook 2009.

Artist in my home: Dan-ah Kim

In July, Dan-ah Kim put up many new works of art for sale.  Dan-ah is from good old Brooklyn and is selling both originals and reproductions.

Usually, I love and prefer originals.  This time I decided to purchase one of the new prints.  It’s signed and dated, on museum-quality German etching paper, with rose-and-flesh-colored inks.

I often purchase two pieces at a time by any artist I collect.  I really enjoy seeing things in pairs in my home.

So far, I’ve collected one piece, entitled “Mischief Maker.” 

A masked figure in a backless dress swings from a chandelier, covered in vines, crystals, candles, and blooms.

I see her as a flapper from the 1920s, and I’m intrigued by what she dangles over. 

What happens next?

- A clean get-away from a diamond heist 

- A death-defying, smashing crashing spectacle

- Flowers aflame 

- A landing that puts a prima ballerina to shame

- Falling into the strong arms of a mystery gent

- Catapulting onto a mezzanine and tap dancing down the stairs?

The second piece of art I'm thinking of adding is entitled,

“The Stars Are Against Me Tonight.”

This image is haunting.  The midnight blue of the sky, the whirlpool of stars, the arrows swimming towards the girl, the feathery burst.

We’ve all felt that way at one point...and it's such a gorgeous, quiet way to express the feeling of being in the dark, chased, conspired against, cornered, cursed, pierced, or whatever it is she feels.  It looks as if the arrows will rain down on her. 

  

With any luck, all the arrows aim to do is turn her into a beautiful star.

Currently listening to:

Turn Into A Star
by Coal Beautiere

Remaining an artist

 

“Every child is an artist.  The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up.” 

 

- Picasso

 

Since we were speaking of Mr. Picasso in my last post, now is the time to post this photo.  I was recently graced by an image of Baker, the son of my friends from college.  As teenagers, his mom and I lived a few doors down from each other, in an ivy-covered hall.  This baby, to me, looks very much like his parents:  serious and lovable, with big blue eyes.  He painted a card for his daddy on their very first Father’s Day, and his mom snapped this image. 

 

I’ll seize this moment to remind myself, and all of you, of the great quote above.  This sentiment is what I thought of when I opened my email and saw this little guy’s exuberant arms and expressive eyes.

 

I’m dedicating this post with good wishes to his parents. 

 

I’d also like to send a hug and this wishful quote to my friend Andrea, since she is expecting a daughter this year.  She is working on an art project in her tummy, as she says.

Girl in a Picasso

  

Andrea's recent post called "Running Off" inspired me to share some of my clothing with you. 

Wearing these makes me feel like a girl in a Picasso. 

In Japanese, "pierrot" can be a word for a modern day circus performer, which is not quite what I'm thinking of today. 

The pierrot I'm thinking of is the French figure, dressed in white soft clothing, with a beautiful face. 

I'd love to see a version from Japan, come to think of it. 

Pierrots and harlequins were dancers, and were graceful and mysterious.  Picasso loved them and spent time with them in Paris.  These were the years he's said to have referred to as "the happiest times in my life."  Occasionally, he painted himself or his children as these performers. 

This is called Pablo as a Harlequin, from 1924.  

Angelic, don't you think?  He depicted this subject throughout his life (1881-1973), and the majority of the paintings were in his 20's and 30's.

 

"Tumblers":

 

 

Above Picasso images from:  clickable link

I was a gymnast for 9 years (I miss it!) and I'm attracted to acrobatics.  Balance, strength, and agility are things I love to imagine about these quiet, athletic artists.

Now for my threads.  Here is one of my dresses by Ana!s of Brooklyn.  The designer uses high quality natural fabrics and cares about every stitch.  I own several of her pieces.  This dress is a mini.  It's bubble style, with double layers of the softest cotton.  It feels sooo good to the touch, which is very important to me.  It has an intricately crocheted collar, in a creamy tea color.  It's one of a kind.

To shop Ana!s: clickable link 

The above dress was new.  The rest I'll show you today are all vintage, from my closet, and all are a little see-through.

First, I have what was dubbed "The Ghost Town Sweetheart Blouse."  I really enjoy ghostly clothing.  This was handpicked by my beloved girls at Violet Folklore .

The model is musician Alela Diane.  She has a beautiful look and is a talented songstress; I'm happy Sasha intro'ed me to her.

   

To shop Violet Folklore:  clickable link

 

I have more to say about the girls and I'll save that for another day.

The next top was found at the treasure chest that is Dear Golden. 

I like things that are see-through, while also tasteful and innocent. 

If you can peek at a girl's skin, or get a glimpse of camisole, and her outfit is demure at the same time, I find it perfectly lovely.

This blouse is more conservative than sexy.  Yet, it's silky and transparent, and it reminds me of the Chanel No. 5 box.   It can be worn for museum work and dinner at the yacht club.

Next comes one of my vintage evening gowns. 

It reminds me of Jackie Kennedy. 

 To shop Thrush:  clickable link

The sheer top of the dress is made of a floaty fabric with ribbing.  This piece gives me the Chanel No. 5 feeling too. 

The model looks like Ellen Page. 

 

I'm wishing all of you a peaceful midsummer eve.  Here's wishing you meet friendly ghosts tonight.  Or, if you don't believe in or enjoy ghosts, may you do cartwheels among the fireflies.

Currently listening to: 

Ellen Page and Michael Cera,

singing Anyone Else But You

by The Moldy Peaches

Dip me in paint, take me for a swim

 

I saw a dress this week that I wanted to share with you.

I love these photos.  They remind me of my summers on the sand dunes of Fire Island.

 

And my summers splashing in Lake Champlain, with Vermont's mountains on the horizon.

The fabric looks as if the girl were dipped in watercolors, and her skin remained porcelain.

Subtle flowers appliquéd across the body.  A sweetheart neckline. 

All handmade in cotton.

Dainty yet ever so slightly tattered.

Even though the designer didn't describe it as a dress dipped in watercolor paints, that is what it looks like to me.  Sometimes it feels as if everything makes me think of painting. 

 

 Custom dresses by: clickable link  

Photography by: clickable link 

Sis

This week I stayed with my sister in New York.  Her house is full of her personality.  She should be a designer. 

I can't wait to take more pics next time!

She planted a long, lush garden. 

It reminds you a bit of "The Secret Garden,"

with nooks for doing whatever you like. 

Inside are

roses,

tiger lilies,

azaleas,

a lilac tree,

Queen Anne's lace,

ivy,

and some purples (delphinium I believe).

 

There is a house for birds.

It was built by her man... and inspired by Frank Lloyd Wright's most famous piece of architecture, "Falling Water" :

(Image  source: clickable link)

 

A couple of creatures were there.

The first was a skinny angelic 18 year old, named Baloo.

The second was a young male from Philadelphia, named Franklin. 

... one of the most gorgeous animals I've ever seen- with the softest orange coat

and golden eyes matching

his fur.

I saw him laying alongside a vintage book:

"The Encyclopedia of Birds"

Don't you think this is perfect reading material,

especially for cats who

"would reside in fancy little houses" ?

 

On my blog you’re encouraged to click all pictures to enjoy the full size.

(You can see the bookish pussycat’s softness up close.)

I loved taking these photos. The sun was setting through tall windows. 

Check out some art that my sister's sweetheart obtained for her: 

 

On their wall is a beautiful portrait of

a musical great,

Marvin Gaye.

Painted in blues and greens with white lines. 

He leans back

while his hands cradle the back of his head.

Amigas

I heard from one of my best friends today.

She'll arrive in the city soon!

We used to live together in Barcelona.  She inspires me, like many of the people I enjoy surrounding myself with.  She created her own boutique in BCN, loves fashion, loves languages, and is always moving around the world.

I have a photo of her at Casa Milà / La Pedrera.

If you haven't seen it yet, it's one of several architectural masterpieces by Antoni Gaudí. The pool of blue in the center of the photo is the sky.  

The mosaic chimneys on his apartment building remind people of chess pieces watching over the residents. 

Here she is, dreamy-eyed, on Gaudi's rooftop:

Image source: clickable link

Artist in my home: Nina Clough

There's a girl I've admired for a long time named Nina Clough.

 

A while ago, I was lucky enough to adopt one of her works of art.

 

It came on the same day I'd made a rare stop at my favorite patisserie. 

 

Their light & fluffy macarons that day were lemon, raspberry, and espresso.

 

They're sweet; one bite is plenty.  I recommend buying two of each color when you buy macs.  It's fun to give the second one away.

 

The smoky flecks & pale colors of the almond cookies reminded me of her Paris painting, so I took a photo:

 

When I came home, there it was in my mailbox:

 

I told Nina about my French-infused day and the color coincidence. 

 

 

This summer, she had a sale and I decided it was time for her "Flowers in Greece" piece (ink and watercolor). 

 

The art paper she uses is thick and the colors come through even better in person.

 

You never know when a piece will arrive from any artist overseas.  She is located in England. 

 

A few days ago, I went to lunch with Peter at a Greek restaurant.

 

 As I realized he was eating a Greek meal, I wished the magic spell would work and I'd come home to her print. 

 

It happened again:

 

Inside, there was a handwritten note to me, saying that she hoped it would happen again too.

 

Eventually on this blog, I'll show you photos of how everything looks on the walls of my place. There's more to share of her wonderful art...

 

More images to come .

 

Her work is available here: clickable link

Or, if you're in the UK, here: clickable link

Above images were used with Nina's blessing.

Tom Sawyer's girlfriend

 

From my home library.

Written in 1887,

reprinted last year.

Inspiring for grown-up females

(even more than little scouts) in my view.

About 500 pages.

A treasure chest.

Some favorites from Spring & Summer chapters:

Transplanting wildflowers

Noah's ark peep-show

How to preserve the perfume of flowers

Quakeress

May-pole dancing

Midsummer eve fortune telling

Sea-urchin candlestick

Decorating with ferns

Polishing seashells

Thunderbolts

Mikado fan

Sending flowers by mail

Sea-side cottages

Fireworks

 

O beautiful

The Ray Charles version is best.

O beautiful for spacious skies,

For amber waves of grain;

For purple mountain majesties

Above the fruited plain

America, America

God shed His grace on thee,

And crown thy good with brotherhood,

From sea to shining sea.

.....

After watching fireworks last night, we started singing.

The City of New Orleans (performed by Arlo Guthrie, 1970)

This Land Is Your Land (Woody Guthrie, 1940)

My Country Tis Of Thee (1831)

The Star Spangled Banner (1814)

I'm A Yankee Doodle Dandy (1904)

You're A Grand Old Flag (1906)

God Bless America (1938)

Over There (1917)

American Girl (Tom Petty, 1977)

The House I Live In (Frank Sinatra, 1945)

An American Tune (Paul Simon, 1973)

I love Reni Lane, she's my girl- here she is singing a small slice of her song "American Baby," with her songbird voice and gazelle stems.

If you know a song for this day, send me a comment. I want a growing list for a party.

Happy Independence Day. A wonderful name for a holiday.

My green dress

I received a bunch of compliments when I wore this, thank you, so I decided to photograph it. Thanks especially to Jean.

In person, I loved how little bits of sky peeked through the woods like stars. They echoed the little stitches and beads that reflected the light.

Family wedding

We had a family wedding this month.  I painted and one of my brothers sang with his wife. 

The bride and I lived together and became close in past years.  I was very happy for her.

It had been raining in the tri-state area for a month.  She prepared for it to pour, but the gods smiled on us and the sun beamed.

The groomsmen had a basket full of Japanese parasols.  The men opened them and handed one to each woman, to shield our eyes and skin.  More than one hundred of us walked into the courtyard.  It was lovely to see them dotting the landscape, fluttering among the crowd.  They were made of wood, paper, and string:

 

 

The couple asked me to be the artist for their ketubah:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ketubah

 

In ancient times, it wasn't an artwork, but a sort of pre-nup contract. 

 

This time, it was a set of vows composed by the groom.  Well-written and romantic.

 

One of my favorite artists (thanks Miss S.!) showed me a wonderful one while I was preparing:

 

www.processrecess.com/index.php?uid=E804AA

 

I whispered the words a little, so that I'd remember precisely what to do with my strokes. 

 

Mine didn't contain Hebrew.  I wish it had; that would have been a pleasure to make as well.

 

I painted one in advance of the wedding day.  It didn't look right to me.  

 

I polled my sister and other people, then decided to redo it. 

 

Chris came to the art store with me in a spectacular lightening storm.

I opened my window to record a few seconds. You can hear the thunder and see the wind turn the tree into a sea anemone:

 

 

 

We got soaked in order to purchase more fine French paper. 

 

I only feel right giving a piece of my art if it's tight, if you know what I mean.  It should be a beauty to me, if it's a gift from my heart. 

 

The calligraphy took many hours.  I worked through six pens.  They start sharp and their delicate tips wear down.   

 

I chose a salmon color after loads of experimentation.  I think the hue reminds people of the feeling of love.  Here it is in progress:

 

 

Traditional text is black.  I didn't even want them to sign in black.  Anything too dark took away from the airy feel.  I found a tree-bark colored brown for the bride, groom, witnesses, and officiant to sign with.

 

I arrived two hours before the ceremony, because they needed me there early.  First he breezed by, then she did, like the white rabbit and Alice in Wonderland, but neither saw the other. 

 

 

 

All you saw was a blur pass by.  I waited by my newest baby, the ketubah. 

 

A man who seemed to be the coordinator scooped up the gold frame, saying "This is marvelous; it needs to be displayed!"  which was good to hear.  He gingerly placed it on an easel.  My brother said he looked like Poppy from Seinfeld.  Guests arrived and oooed and aahed at it, which made me happy.

 

The ceremony featured the breaking of the glass, and a great deal of music, such as Handel's water music, among other traditions.

 

At the reception, my parents did an incredible Cha-Cha number. If you're unfamiliar with the latin dance:

 

www.youtube.com/watch?v=ISmOGkAniZ4

 

Everyone applauded at the end of the impromptu performance.

 

The centerpieces were Japanese bonsai trees.   I have to ask my brother if he adopted one; he was admiring it the whole time.

 

My dog, a Dalmatian named Siren, kept watch.  She loves the bride too.

 

More ketubah pictures to come.

 

Here's wishing you two a wonderful life together.