super swell

while you're patiently waiting for season three of madmen, you can channel your inner mid-century goddess over at madmenyourself.com. I just had to give myself a 60s updo and a cigarette (because you know there's no stinky cig hair or lung cancer in cartoon world!).

I've also been scouring modcloth for retro clothes since my shopping hiatus successfully ends in august. I'm all about skinny pants, a 3/4 sleeve cardi and pointy pumps.

happy weekend swingers!

{thanks meggan!}

hi there

yes, I am still dog-paddling around a sea of uninspiration. the water's nice though.

oh twilight

you lost me at renesmee.

two things

candy-colored roses.

blackberries in jadite.

{sometimes things that are simple bring the most pleasure.}

and a third thing: sharing.

supplied

when I find myself in the happy place that is the art supply store, my eyes get wild, my heart rate increases slightly and I am overcome with delight as I ask myself over and over again, “what can I make with this?” does this happen to you too? the vast assortment of tools, materials, colors and various forms of goo leave me pulsating with ideas and creative energy. I am quick to acquire these catalysts which I’m certain will become a beautiful bit of love. trouble is, this potential infrequently comes to fruition. the ideas continue to brew, but the material lies dormant in the studio and often forgotten. incomplete.

I had a bit of a dramatic energy shift last week. I’m still working my way through it and trying to establish some footing. I’m at a spot of growth tempered by my own stubborn resistance. you could call if a midlife crisis. although crisis seems too big a word.

what I know is that kismet has come to my rescue over and over again this week. the messages from a variety of sources were clear and undeniable. don’t you love it when this happens? I identified that I feel undone, like an incomplete project, that I have compiled a huge store of tools and supplies gathered over a lifetime and I feel they haven’t yet taken the direction or form I envision. I am a mix of excitement and fear as the question is asked, “what can I make with this?”

the vision of me…who I see myself becoming…can shift over time, but there exists a stable paradigm of who that character is and what she brings to and takes from this world. I’ll have to sort through the raw materials, edits, designs, colors, flavors, nuances and energy to begin to take shape. and work on separating potential from fantasy, which seems to be the ongoing dilemma of my life. yes, there is work to be done. good, creative, artistic work.

*lovely anairam is hosting this week's weekword--time. I've been too preoccupied to come up with an appropriate post. however, as I read this again, it appears it is all about time. and really all my thoughts, musings, dispair and plans this week were focused on time. kismet.

fragile

is so not my thing. my tendency is to combat natural waves of softness and vulnerability with action and edginess. that particular formula is really not working this week and I still feel in a haze.

how do you come to terms with those aspects of yourself that you don't really appreciate but that just keep insisting on your attention?

tres ordinaire

monday mosaics tend to flow from my mood. since my current mood is...well, interesting...I'll spare you the dramatics. living with this slight feeling of discontent and restlessness has left me void of inspiration. it will get better.

in the meantime, let's have a look at some lovely fish. have a fantastic week friends.

la vie ordinaire

1. get up at 5am on saturday morning, go for a walk, take a shower, clean the kitchen, feed the dogs, run to farmer’s market for best dibs on organic produce. just. like. every. other. saturday.
2. lovingly make labels for travel-sized toiletries for your husband's upcoming trip to london.
3. having recently surrendered to the twilight bandwagon and read the first two books in just under 48 hours, add trip to bookstore to your saturday routine to purchase third and fourth books.
4. with all your adult wisdom and experience, contemplate the mysterious hold the story has over you. realize that the powerful (albeit adolescent) mix of lust and recklessness were, are and always will be your drug of choice. enter brief melancholic dance with the reality that this intoxication belongs with youth and any future experience of this sort will most likely not be yours.
5. consider alternative substance abuse.
6. casually browse the literature section of bookstore; find yourself in the "m" section. after two unsuccessful scans, slowly come to the understanding that what you are looking for is in the teen section. saunter over to teen section. tell yourself you have nothing to be ashamed of as you mentally concoct the story that you are shopping for your 14 year old daughter (even though your daughter is 24). try not to be too devastated when you see that books three and four are not there either. add trip to target to your list.
7. beautiful 20-something boy politely asks if he can help you (as in, “can I help you, ma’am?”). summon 40 years of practicing natural confidence and ask about the books then instantly regret it when he turns to lead you to another section. blush with shame as you realize you are following his litheness to (horror of horrors!) the romance section. sigh with relief once you see you are only moving to the magnificence that is the twilight display table. try not to let your eyes catch fire at the sight of bella bookmarks and edward journals. graciously accept his offer of eclipse. keep your hands to yourself.
8. momentarily entertain the delusion that he is telling himself the same thing.
9. run into colleague at bookstore. conceal teen romance under latest issues of new yorker and food and wine. intelligently discuss upcoming court case.
10. rush home to purchase fourth book online, resisting the edward journal. move movie to top of netflix queue.
11. do yoga to stretch muscles that are wound tight after two days in a prone reading position.
12. laugh at yourself for your silliness and accept that this is part of the ride. be grateful for the midlife ability to put it all in context.
13. go back online and buy something ridiculously expensive.

five senses friday*

{see}

I'm in serious hibernation mode this week, so I'm all about reading and watching old movies and avoiding any unnecessary conversations. these three are my favorites (this week anyway). brian keith was my very first older-man crush. it's the voice.

and I'm much too old to be enjoying the twilight series this much.

{hear}

too many voices. too many complaints. too many people who need me to fix their *&%ing problems. (therefore, hibernation mode.) I'm not blaming the individual here, but sometimes when relentless neediness comes at me from all sides, it gets a little old.

{taste}

cool, crunchy cucumbers. love them.

{smell}

we mulched the landscaped areas of the yard with redwood chips. when I water (which I've been doing a lot of this week because it's the most zen thing I do and I need it), the slight scent of northern california fills the air. when I was a teenager, a group of us rode bicycles down the coast. for a short period, I was separated from the crowd and riding alone on a curvy highway. on my right was the pacific. to my left a redwood forest. I vividly remember the exhilarating and slightly scary feeling of wild independence I experienced. and the salty, woodsy air filling my lungs.

{touch}

book in hand. sun on face.

hope you experience it this weekend.

*thanks abby, I can't get enough of fsf.

love, last summer

mosaic monday

last week: nostalgia.

this week: wanderlust.

if you could leave on holiday right this second, where would you go?

I'm dreaming of the california coast, highway 1 in a karman ghia with mia, fish tacos, surfing, tide pools, the santa cruz boardwalk, old friends, diner pancakes, motels that smell of salt and sea...

{flickr creds here.}

baby w

so new. so loved.

five senses friday*

{see}

I'm trying on new lenses, new filters and new skills with my photography and am love-love-loving the results. the quiet tones are really speaking to me right now.

{hear}

more quiet. the mid-summer cps lull is upon us (I'm not sure it's less child abuse, just less telling about it) at the office; neighborhoods and workplaces around town are abandoned for vacations. ahh....

{smell}

there's something heady and very southern-scented in the garden. I can't determine where it's coming from...possibly some greenery because none of the blooms are taking responsibility. regardless, it's like heaven at twilight.

and don't you just love that instant rush of a scent when rain hits a dry hot sidewalk?

{taste}

tzatziki. lots of it. I've been eating well this summer (trying to follow a south beach-type diet and it's working--21 lbs. so far). my nutrition revolves around organic chicken, wild salmon, greek yogurt, salads, cucumbers, tomatoes and berries. I love all these foods, but the whole protein-salad routine gets a bit dull. this week, I made a batch of awesome tzatziki and am eating it with chicken, cucumbers, tomatoes and even by itself. it's spiced things up a bit.

{touch}

the feeling part of my week has been more emotional than sensory. I feel balanced, loved, connected, certain, excited. how often do we get all these things at once? I'm relishing it. I hope you feel the same, dear friends.


*fsf is the brainchild of abby.

nostalgia rocks

after a meeting in roanoke yesterday, I wandered off and discovered my new favorite place (more on this soon). as I meandered through the leftovers of lives and history, I was struck at how powerful an emotion nostalgia is. an object, a scent, a feeling triggers our memory and we momentarily travel through time to be there. there. whether it be with a loved one or friend who is gone from our lives or a grand or small experience that fell in an earlier chapter of our book, nostalgia puts us there. it has to be the most lovely of emotions and a huge plus of growing older.

when I turned 11, I had a strawberry birthday: strawberry cake, strawberry ice cream, strawberry soda pop. the soda came from the pop shoppe, a bright little memory from my childhood. there were just a few close friends at my slumber party, all dressed in pink or red. we talked and giggled and laughed belly laughs 'til we cried. the glass bottles of soda kept coming and we sipped it through pink straws with wild abandon.

when I saw these bottles yesterday, I heard faint giggles tinged with a mix of uncertainty and courage. I felt on the edge of something transformative, just as when I was 11 and moving from childhood to adolescence.

and I smelled strawberry.

mosaic monday

happy, happy monday friends.

I just had to share more photos of precious ruby from this weekend. if you'd like to see a growing set, click here to see the slideshow. I happily spent most of my weekend processing images of this spirited one and those from another session with a baby (coming soon).

I face my "day job" work week this morning with a clear head and a balance I haven't felt in a while. while I was processing photos, my mind was processing the experience of taking photographs and how juxtaposed it is with my real job. strangely though, this didn't make me want to turn in a resignation letter today and wander off into the sunset with camera in tow. it made it all seem complete, like a loop was closed. I can't really put it into words right now for as is typical me, I'll need to think think think this whole thing through and back again.

I want to practice more and more and more. one of the true joys of my life is learning and mastering skills. my school of photography is this: take a happy being, make a connection, spend some time, laugh, talk, learn, play, explore.

oh and take some photos while you're there.

oh ms. ruby

thank you for making this little leap of mine so much fun and so easy and natural.

thank you for your giggles, your spirit, your playfulness, your light that warms everyone who comes within reach of you.

thank you for your patience with the props and with my beginner-ness. {and thank you for saying no to standing in the lavender because you got your first bee sting two days ago~I love a girl who stands up for herself.}

thank you. thank you. thank you.

{more of ruby coming soon.}

five senses friday*

{see}

we put a bottle tree in our backyard a few weeks ago. I'm enjoying finding beautifully colored bottles to perch on its branches. it really is magical. in the daylight, the sun streams through the glass, bouncing off the different colors with sparkly energy. it's uplit at night, so it positively glows in the dark and fireflies buzz through the boughs with curiosity.

happy children: a lovely consequence (and most likely the subconscious cause) of taking the risk to photograph real people (as opposed to just beautiful things) is seeing and being with healthy, loving families with joyful children who are oblivious to pain and suffering. my heart swells.

{smell}

I love the smokey-sulphury afterburn of fireworks. weird, I know. (I think the attraction to chemical smells like sulphur and gasoline is actually considered a clinical disorder. add it to the list...)

{hear}

I can't stop listening to the soothing french-folky music of carla bruni and keren ann. something about this music slows me down and makes me acutely aware of sensual experiences.

{taste}

cherries. berries. peaches.

we purchased a few jars of jalapeno-blackberry jam at a local farm last weekend. it's so yummy smeared with goat cheese on a cracker.

{touch}

there's nothing like staying in a hotel for a week that makes me appreciate my sheets, my bed, my water pressure, my dogs, my man.

happy weekend beautiful ones!!!

*as always, thank you ms. abby for this lovely idea.

wicked good

and everywhere. cannot. get. enough.

happy thursday friends!

what moves us

(disclaimer: I am hereby outing myself as a person who does not and never has liked michael jackson. initially, it was purely a matter of musical preference; the later dislike due to my tendency to question those who buy and sell human beings. turn away, jacko fans.)

I don't watch the news regularly. I find that I am a happier person when I don't watch the news. I stay somewhat current via magazines and the occasional accidental listen on npr. sometimes I'll hear of a story and follow along, as in the case of neda soltani. I often find myself surprised by what moves the public to grief and action. never so much as last week.

the important story about neda was overshadowed in an instant by the death of m.j. what's up with that? in our lifetimes we rarely get the opportunity to experience martyrdom in action (and I'm speaking of real martyrdom, not that watered-down-drama-laden-victim-faux martyrdom we've become accustomed to). don't we owe some moments, some reverence, some attention here? can we pay attention to something meaningful for once?

instead, we are a silly nation moved to tears by the demise of a freakish, probable pedophile with questionable musical talent. I blush a bit with shame at our priorities.

(I understand that people love m.j. and I feel for people who sense a loss here. I am also sorry when one dies before coming clean. that's all I'll say on this topic.)