My pretty little collage on Polyvore...
Friday, June 27, 2008
Contemptuous
My iGoogle daily literary quote is from Ezra Pound - one whom I have had a love and loathe relationship with since college.
"It ought to be illegal for an artist to marry. If the artist must marry let him find someone more interested in art, or his art, or the artist part of him, than in him. After which let them take tea together three times a week."
Or
Worship me and/or be less of an artist than I so that I may mold you and then, when my work is done, leave you squirming in the dirt of my passé ideas.
Perhaps I judge too harshly. I have only read things from, mostly, Hilda Doolittle's point of view. I think I identify with her too much to give Ezra any sort of credit. And yet, still, I find him to be most intriguing as you would find a poet, dark romantic soul, treat-you-like-dirt, but charming bad boy to be.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Join the party!
Vanessa, over at A Fanciful Twist, is hosting a blog party (tea and costumes!) on Saturday and I have yet to prepare anything. Well, I have prepared a tiny thing...
I had a certain costume in mind as well, but all of it is back home in Texas. I'm wondering if I can find something new around town.
Tea and cakes? Homemade? Lots of lovely pictures, hopefully. I've got to get it together, and you should join in on the fun as well :)
Friday, June 20, 2008
Thursday, June 19, 2008
my, how the days do fly...
What have I been up to? Plenty! More than I can write about - or care to take time to write about. That's awful, really, coming from someone who has a blog (in which to write in), but I find myself posting more pictures about my life than actually writing about it. That's okay, I suppose.
We spent lots of time in the mountains.
It needs a little bird, or an egg perhaps?
One night I came home to a glass full of freshly picked flowers (Nana's idea). I had never thought about picking flowers from the rosebush (because it technically belongs to the apt. complex), but what a difference even a small bouquet will bring to a room. I might sneak a few more in the future ;)
-Tidbits from last weekend-
Some of my family came to visit (Mom, Stepdad, Grandmother). I hadn't seen them in a year! I left Texas last June. Packed my little, blue Ford Focus (stuffed really) and drove to Florida. Three months later it was off to Tennessee, but that is another story. Back to the weekend festivities.
I finally got to give my mom and nana their Mother's Day presents - dreamboxes altered with paper scrap and embellishments.
We spent lots of time in the mountains.
At one point we were driving along the winding roads for what seemed like forever, not knowing where we were headed. My boyfriend had never been passed a certain point on this particular drive, so not even he knew where the road was headed. A serendipitous trip it turned out to be because we ended up at the North Carolina state line! Everyone had a good laugh about that. (I will have pictures soon.)
My nana spoiled me with this lovely birdcage, which she decorated with greenery, flowers, and tiny nests.
It needs a little bird, or an egg perhaps?
One night I came home to a glass full of freshly picked flowers (Nana's idea). I had never thought about picking flowers from the rosebush (because it technically belongs to the apt. complex), but what a difference even a small bouquet will bring to a room. I might sneak a few more in the future ;)
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Friday, June 13, 2008
chocolate guilt
I am currently eating a large piece of moist chocolate cake with whipped cream frosting and roasted almonds and actually feeling guilty about it. This is not something that happens often. I do not like this feeling.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
amen to that
Excerpt from C'est la Vie by Suzy Gershman:
Many outsiders do not understand the simple differences in culture and lifestyle in France...or the French way of thinking. They invariably go home with stories of those quaint little Frenchies. Those who are able to adjust are changed forever and usually choose to stay, or to return when possible.
The pace of life in France is different. For me, used to a rather hectic American day, it was a relief when I slowed down and actually enjoyed my life in the French style. I had been the person who ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich over the keyboard. I never had time to cook; my family survived on takeout, fast food, Boston Chicken and lamb chops on Sunday nights. Suddenly meals and social life were the most important parts of my day. Yes, more important than my work. In France they were the anchors to a day and to a lifetime. In the United States, we rarely made time for our friends and the people we cared most about - and they understood, or said they did, because they were in the same jam. In France nothing was more important.
In France people sat at a table for three hours (or longer), ate slowly and had real conversations. This contrasted with an eat-and-run American pattern or even the "independent dinners" we had in our family because everyone had different activities and different needs. Other than Thanksgiving, Jewish holiday feast dinners and a few dinners out with friends, I don't remember sitting at a table for much more than an hour in the United States...or having discussions about politics and philosophy.
People in France made less money than those in the United States but still lived better - partly because of this slower pace of life, partly because of the cultural importance of a good meal (with good wine, bien sur) and partly because, with less discretionary income, priorities were better defined. If a French person had to choose between new clothes or a concert ticket, the concert ticket usually won out.
Add to this a thirty-five-hour workweek, a schedule of a mere two hundred workdays per year, some six or eight weeks of paid vacation, socialized medical care, excellent retirement benefits and a cost of living far lower than Manhattan or London and you can see why people loved to live here. Those who knew what they couldn't afford back in the United States figured they'd rather have less in France and chose to stay put.
Many outsiders do not understand the simple differences in culture and lifestyle in France...or the French way of thinking. They invariably go home with stories of those quaint little Frenchies. Those who are able to adjust are changed forever and usually choose to stay, or to return when possible.
The pace of life in France is different. For me, used to a rather hectic American day, it was a relief when I slowed down and actually enjoyed my life in the French style. I had been the person who ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich over the keyboard. I never had time to cook; my family survived on takeout, fast food, Boston Chicken and lamb chops on Sunday nights. Suddenly meals and social life were the most important parts of my day. Yes, more important than my work. In France they were the anchors to a day and to a lifetime. In the United States, we rarely made time for our friends and the people we cared most about - and they understood, or said they did, because they were in the same jam. In France nothing was more important.
In France people sat at a table for three hours (or longer), ate slowly and had real conversations. This contrasted with an eat-and-run American pattern or even the "independent dinners" we had in our family because everyone had different activities and different needs. Other than Thanksgiving, Jewish holiday feast dinners and a few dinners out with friends, I don't remember sitting at a table for much more than an hour in the United States...or having discussions about politics and philosophy.
People in France made less money than those in the United States but still lived better - partly because of this slower pace of life, partly because of the cultural importance of a good meal (with good wine, bien sur) and partly because, with less discretionary income, priorities were better defined. If a French person had to choose between new clothes or a concert ticket, the concert ticket usually won out.
Add to this a thirty-five-hour workweek, a schedule of a mere two hundred workdays per year, some six or eight weeks of paid vacation, socialized medical care, excellent retirement benefits and a cost of living far lower than Manhattan or London and you can see why people loved to live here. Those who knew what they couldn't afford back in the United States figured they'd rather have less in France and chose to stay put.
bien dans ma peau
I love
~eating strawberry and tart scones and citrus and strawberry pastries
~watching French movies on a Saturday night
~lightning bugs
~waking up on a Saturday morning and finding a lady bug perched on my windowsill
~being undeniably, inexplicably, uncontrollably happy on a Sunday morning when I wake up and realize I can snuggle in my bed and not do a thing more for the whole day if I don't want to
~80 degree weather at 8 a.m.
~super sweet chocolaty mocha lattes
~watching paint swirl in clear jars
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