Sunday, October 31, 2010
Im in Austin.
Hangin with homeless
Sleeping on a Floor
Taking 102345934 pictures
Thrifting some more
Seeing Nakedness...on the street.
Being found by getting lost
Being tired. Being Wired.
Becoming a little more inspired.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
One such artist is Georgianne Holland of the Nestle and Soar studio (etsy/blog.) She almost exclusively uses wool, and will use up to 30 colors of soft wool per piece. Not to mention with every purchase, Nestle and Soar plants a tree in your honor through the Arbor Day Foundaion. we like trees. (but not tree huggers.)
Other fiberous art with which i am quite impressed..
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Erdem Spring 2011
Usually, Erdem is incredbly momish. not that this isn't, but it's a little less and i am completely in love with the sheer and the lace and the collars and the floral. I'm never a fan of the wrap-up ballet shoes, but what else would they use for this springy tea party thing? i guess it's excusble. And maybe this is still momish, but im pretty sure it is what kortney and I will be wearing as we play in our fields and hang out on our (separate) wrap-around porches. (until our husbands die then it will be the same wrap-around porch.)
Monday, October 25, 2010
This weekend was a nice end to the week...quitefamily oriented. THE BELL IS RINGING. On Friday I took my small, teenage, grounded, sister to do things. While I have been home in Texas we have become bosom buddies.. mainly because she lets me treat her (and her beauty) like a doll while I take pictures of her, and humors me (most of the time) when I force her to do crafty things for my entertainment... sort of like my puppy while Rachel's away. ;) THE BELL IS RINGING. We went to a corny block buster called 'Life As We Know It.' Corny or not...there were some excellent looking men in that film that I enjoyed pretending to make eye contact with via big screen. Don't judge, we all know you do the same. While driving to the theatre, water began pouring from the sky in massive amounts. This rainstorm was not a feminine sprinkle. Let me just tell you... it was the kind of rain that looks as if buckets of water are being dumped out of clouds, the kind of rain that will soak you in half a second. THE BELL IS RINGING. When we stopped the car...the sisteren was all ready to hop out in it with her hooded head, acting as if I should do the same. Mind you... we had an entire acre wide parking lot to run across. All I could think of was how delightful sitting in a cold and dark movie theatre with soggy shoes and wet hair down my back would be. Unfortunately, the movie was starting and Haleigh was getting crabby with my 'wait for the rain to desist before getting out the of car' tactics. THE BELL IS RINGING. Finally.. when I realized that the drops were going to show no mercy, I decided to make a leap for it...hoping the rain gods would show my non-hooded hairs some smaller drops for the ten point five seconds while I scaled the parking lot. We opened the car door and hit the pavement sprinting...h2o pelting, shoes sloshing, mascara dripping, and laughs belting. THE BELL IS RINGING. THE BELL IS RINGING. THE BELL IS RINGING. By the time we arrived at the awning to buy our tickets, we had all since given up. Yet, due to the nice adrenaline rush, we done splashed and laughed our way right into that movie, only stopping to make fun of who's wet spots looked more like pee stains. It may sound immature...but for someone who despises potty humor, even I can admit the humor in such a joke. This lengthy and descriptive anecdote is all to say...It was a nice moment. As I have been away from friends, living a more simple life for the past few months...I have tried more desperately to find zest in small moments such as this, especially with family. THE BELL IS RINGING. Watching a rather cranky teenager's run through the rain turn from dainty to a anti-graceful-tom-boy like dead sprint, only to then witness those emotional blue eyes light up as she realized life (even when grounded) isn't half bad,was a moment to remember.
On Saturday the rain continued, which gave me an excuse to wear fall things (namely boots) and red lipstick to Dallas with the fam to eat dinner with my brother and his wife. They have a charming little life in Dallas, Texas. They have been married for three years and Mandy is a High School art teacher, while Geoffrey finishes undergrad and prepares for law school. They pride themselves on searching out the greatest artistic happenings and edible delicacies in the metroplex. They took my family to a restaurant calles 'Bolsa' where I believe everything is organic, locally grown, and bought fresh everyday. We all moaned with pleasure as we ate things such as honey and butternut squash bisque, flat bread with roasted grapes, arugula, goat cheese, and feta, apple and brie bruschetta, an assortment of desserts including crem brule, peanut butter cookies with cream on top, and orange bread pudding. IT. WAS. MY. DREAM. It was fabulous getting to catch up with my artsy little siblings and laugh at family jokes. I'm still not sure whether or not Mandy thinks we're funny... but I hope so, and bless her heart for laughing. ;)
After eating everything, we decided to walk around downtown. Then came the not so grand part of the evening. THE BELL IS RINGING. We all were walking like ducks in a row when my Father, Christian became overwhelmed with immense pain in his stomach/chest area. We thought it was indigestion until he could barely breathe or walk. He told my Mom we needed to take him to the ER because he was either having a heart attach or his Gallbladder was about to explode. THE BELL IS RINGING. For a man who's a Doctor, when he says 'take me to the hospital,' we listen. Poor man was in triage for a few minutes and then admitted to run tests. He was in so much pain that they pumped him full of morphine and other pain killers and after crossing out possibilities of a heart attack, prepped him for surgery on his Gallbladder. Then the Doctor's decided emergency surgery wasn't necessary, and that he could wait a few more days and have surgery in Sherman where we reside. THE BELL IS RINGING. The fools released him from the hospital at four in the morning. After being shot full of so many drugs in prep for surgery, throwing up made the car ride home super fun for him. He is now resting and deciding what doctor to have slice him. For an organ that is less than two inches in length and width the Gallbladder can cause a bitch of a problem. Im so glad my chubby cheeked father is alright. What a blessing that I have live parentals.
Now. I don't feel this blog post would be complete with a quick update from my imaginary book 'The funeral & the Flower Shop.' Im sure that your eyes have been perplexed to read the words 'THE BELL IS RINGING' numerously and randomly stuck inside many a paragraph of this blog post. Well. I just wanted to share a little of my misery here at the fun house with you, so that you can really feel a part of my everyday life. I work upstairs in the 1908 built funeral home, which means each time someone comes in I must walk down the stairs... mail man, employee, dead person, or not. This would be fine... except for the five million non-pressing entries that cause the door bell clock thing to repeatedly sound. After hearing this door ringer contraption sound literally over a hundred times each day, documenting front door opening, back door opening, smoke break opening, etc. I unfortunately cannot tell which sounds are which. There is also a coo-coo clock that chimes each thirty minutes... and between all of the ding dong ding dong----ding dong dddddinnnnngggg donngggss.... I might be going a little crazy. Is the clock the door or the door the clock!?!? Little did you know... the 'talking with a crazy person' blog post that Rachel wrote.. was in reference to me. It's far past time to crush AND hide the doorbell alarm clock ringer crazy person maker thing. If you want to help... give me a holler.
Enjoy the Marathon blog post. Also, Here are a few things that Ive been dreaming about in between door bell soundings. I hope all of you had a delicious weekend, and remember 'he not busy being born is busy dyin,' all hale Bob Dylan.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
As of late, i pretty much love it when i hear anyone say anything. like i hardly, if ever, get annoyed with anything anyone says. i feel like i never really did, but i definitely do not now. Even when people say the dumbest things, i just find humor in it and miraculously dont even make a judgment on the idiot who said it. i kind of just think they are smart or funny for coming up with something so stupid, thinking about it without immediate dismissal, and letting it pass their lips. This may or may not sound sarcastic, but i assure you, it is not.
In The Crossroads on Friday, i sat doing logic homework and simultaneously listening to the conversations of aliens around me. Amid the strangeness, i heard this sweet sentence, "I feel weird not having a treat! Every time he has come over i've had a treat."
I now have trouble analyzing such statements or even attempting to judge how stupid it is, how sad they are, or how fearful i am for society, due to the fact that they are so funnyyyy and soo gooood.
Another blissful dropped eve occurred in math 108 on Friday. (for those who don't know, math 108 is officially titled 'math for the real world.' The social structure of the class is strangely similar to being a regular-aged college student sitting in on a 10th grade algebra II class (but with less difficult material.)) Anyway, i arrived to class early. A girl and a boy sitting behind me engaged in conversation.
He asked simply and politely, "How are you?" She was somehow slyly able to replace a normal, simple, polite answer with a magical story. "His name is Bill. He led me on for three weeks. We like hung out, held hands, whatever. Then like three weeks later he just slowly started talking to me less. And apparently he started hanging out with other girls..." By this time the girl next to interesting girl had joined in giving advice. They both agreed and mentally forced boy to agree on certain arbitrary and slightly frightening points of the story. "I mean, who thinks they can hang out with multiple girls at one time? It is not like that in California at all! Why do us Californians think differently?"
A) i stopped listening when she said 'us Californians' instead of 'we Californians.' B) i have the good parts of this story properly stored because when i hear people say interesting things, i text them to myself. C) what delusional sort of person is this that assumed that her and bill were exclusively dating without an exchange of verbiage. D) Bill just thought he liked you then three weeks later decided he didn't like you so much, crazy. E) Good thing she is in this problem-solving class; she needs it. F) I swear on my life that i am not being sarcastic; i find this human and her words to be interesting, funny and intelligent.
That is all
oh if i do not mention kristin, i will be harmed.
Kristin + Mouth Sounds.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
I was thinking about things
I was thinking about strings
I was thinking about things I want to be things
Then I thought about thoughts
And I dreamed about dreams
But no where I went, no where it seems
So thinking about thoughts
And thoughting about things
Or thinking about thoughting the thought that I think
Could be spacing a space
For dreaming a dream
Or seeming a something, a something unseen