Visit the Save The Frogs site to learn more about the first annual Save The Frogs Day and what you can do to help. And, if you have a chance to watch the Animal Planet special The Vanishing Frog, don't miss it. A world without Kermit just wouldn't be the same!
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Happy, Happy Birthday to my dear sister. XO
[image © fraley_tera]
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Change is never more visible than when you're unable to find it. I'm not sure if I'm quoting this from memory or if I'm still capable of original thought, but I'm definitely searching ... and part of what it will include when I find it is making my way back here. ☺
[image The Broken Juice Glass © Roy McMakin]
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Diana published this post last week about digging out old Christmas photos. In my process of doing so, I found this old picture of my sister and I from December of (are you ready?) 1969. I wonder what I was thinking? She looks so cute and smiley, whereas I've got a somewhat awkward and forced grin planted upon my face. I don't remember this day at all, but regardless am glad my sister was there with me.
I went through my photo album and pulled out some of the other pictures taken of the two of us, me and my big sister.
I don't know how she managed to escape it, but somehow my Mother let her grow her hair long, while in almost every childhood photo I have my hair is . . . short. Even to this day she has long beautiful hair whereas mine can only reach below my shoulders before it just seems to stop.
And although you wouldn't think it from any of these photos (of course our stellar sense of fashion is obvious ☺), I really did end up with the longer legs!
Even though I struggle with the packaging sometimes, I really am thankful for so many things in my life, very much including my sister. She has done a lot for me over the years, even when I didn't deserve it, and I'm hoping she knows how much she means to me.
Hers was the first number I called last weekend when I was busy getting ready to host my annual holiday party and essentially had a quiet meltdown. I started going down the mental checklist of all I still had left to do before guests started to arrive and felt immensely overwhelmed. "I think I'm having an anxiety attack," I told her. "Should I take a valium?!" She was my instant voice of reason, telling me to take a 15 minute break, prioritize what I had to do and not worry about what I couldn't. I did take that break and was able to regroup, forge ahead, and even though there were still items not crossed off the list by the time the doorbell first rang, I don't think they were things anyone (I hope) but me even noticed. Once again my big sister was looking out for me, propping me up just when I needed the support. Thank you, Bon!
And speaking of thankful ... if you're reading this it means you haven't completely given up on my poor blog, a casualty of the blur which has been the last three months, so thank you for still being here! I cannot believe we've reached the 23rd day of December, or that the New Year is just over a week away. I feel like I'm just kind of going through the motions right now, totally bypassing the customary glow of the holidays and ready for the New Year to start so this one can be over. Is that horrible?!
However you may be spending the holidays, I'm sending all good wishes (and thanks) your way.
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Sending all good wishes your way for the holiday. However you'll be spending your day, hope you'll have a very Happy Thanksgiving!
[image © Erin Mazzei]
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Friday night I attended my first ever Tableau Vivant party, hosted by my friend Dorothy. She's an amazingly talented photographer here in Atlanta and I've previously posted about her here on the blog (remember the photograph from which my header image was created?). I’ve read about and seen photographs of such performances, but had never been to one in person. If I used the word ‘incredible’ to describe this one, I’d be making a gross understatement, but it really was incredible, and then some.
If you’re not familiar with the phrase Tableau Vivant, it’s French for ‘living picture.’ To quote Wikipedia, “The term describes a striking group of suitably costumed actors or artist's models, carefully posed and often theatrically lit. Throughout the duration of the display, the people shown do not speak or move. The approach thus marries the art forms of the stage with those of painting/photography, and as such it has been of interest to modern photographers. The most recent hey-day of the tableau vivant was the 19th century with virtually nude tableau vivants or "poses plastiques" providing a form of erotic entertainment.”
This is a very poor picture taken with my camera phone, but at least you’ll be able to get some idea of the visual treat with which all the guests were presented as we stood in the doorway of Dorothy's studio during the twenty minute performance. I felt as if I was looking into a storybook, which suddenly came alive, or that I'd stumbled upon some secret spot in the forest and all I could do was quietly gaze upon what I'd found. The model remained perfectly still until quickly changing from one pose to another, despite all of us standing right there and chatting away, snapping shots with our cameras and camera phones.
All I know is the next time I throw a party, unless I can pull off something similar for entertainment, I'm really going to feel like a lackluster hostess! The evening really was perfect.
I'm so glad I went, and gave myself a dose of something I've been doing without lately: fun. I've slumped back in to the very bad habit of all work and no play; going in early, working late, and spending my weekends at the office. I know better, but lately I also don't know how to tackle all that needs to be done other than putting in the hours. What's that quote, "No one on their deathbed ever said, 'I wish I spent more time at work," or "Work to live, not live to work?" Touché! If anyone knows of a good self-help book I should be reading . . . ☺
[top image © Wikipedia]
I think I've forgotten how to blog. What is it like to read and comment on posts, or to actually compose and publish something? I've definitely been out of practice, so hope it will be like like riding a bicycle or driving stick shift; just one of those things that come back to you as soon as you start doing it again.
My office move is finally over and things are starting to settle down a bit (I hope typing that doesn't jinx it), so I'm hoping to get back on track soon. How is everyone?
[image © MeganOnTheTrain]
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I posted earlier this month about the Showtime House in NYC, and the weekend before last Jen was lucky enough to be able to tour it in person (so jealous!). She took a lot of pictures, many of which show more elements in each room than the official web site, so I thought I'd share her photo gallery right here.
Jen will be moving soon, and for her new abode she's asked me to help her recreate one element from the Showtime House, namely the silk headboard complete with butterflies from the United States of Tara bedroom. The site describes it further: "Dreams take flight with Tara’s upholstered headboard by Tori Golub. It is upholstered in Dedar silk, with nail-affixed silk butterflies (which represent Tara’s metamorphosis into multiple personalities) that fly upward onto a blank Benjamin Moore painted wall."
I've got my thinking cap on and hope to help her create an equally dramatic space. We'll be on a budget much more limited than that available to the Showtime House designers, but that will be the challenge (and the fun). I think the timing will most likely be after the first of the year, but as her room (as inspired by the original) goes through its own metamorphosis, I'll be sure to share the progress. In the meantime, if any of you creative geniuses have any suggestions, please feel free to share!
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If you're a Do Not Leave Unattended! participant, you hopefully received my e-mail last weekend about the new blog design for the project being up and running. If you're not on that mailing list, please take a minute to go here and check it out, along with all the incredible contributions that have come in since the project launch in August.
Thinking of the new design, I wanted to (and have been dilatory in doing so) take a minute to send a huge thank you to Barbara of Candy Hearts and Paper Flowers, the developer extraordinaire responsible for all the technical details of the new blog. I have thanked her multiple times for all her help, but wanted to let everyone in our community here know just how amazing and incredibly helpful she has been. I literally could not have done this without her.
I've had a few technical issues with Run4istRun since the launch of the new design, most of which have probably gone unnoticed by most of you unless you're a Mac user who at times wasn't able to comment. That was just one of the issues, including those related to publishing due to an outstanding bug still not fixed by Blogger. Something which has also recently crept up is the blog being designated as spam, and although I've e-mailed the folks at Blogger multiple times to request a review, so they can confirm a real person is posting here, I'm going on almost three weeks now of having to use word verification every single time I save anything I've typed, or click the publish button (I guess it's actually kind of good I haven't had a lot of extra time for blogging lately!). It's completely annoying, to say the least.
Without going in to all the details, to really fix the problems once and for all the template needs to be rewritten from scratch. Because of all the custom work Ari did when setting up the design, this will be a big project and unfortunately one that will be beyond my technical abilities. When I learned this, especially after all the work that had already been done to set up the new design, I was completely disheartened and honestly gave serious consideration to scrapping the blog altogether (I really was that frustrated). After thinking on it for a couple of days I thought of Barbara, whom I'd previously met here on the blog and with whom I'd exchanged several e-mails, remembering she works in the technology field and also that she'd set up the code for Erin's Mankind Mag widget. I e-mailed her to see if she might be able to help with some of the immediate issues and Hallelujah! She rode in on her virtual white horse and saved the day.
The design work for Unattended! was in process around this time, and Barbara jumped in with her expertise to take all the graphics and get them set up on the new platform. She took care of everything, and without me even asking added little features here and there to make it better. I really cannot thank her enough, but hope this will help to show her how very grateful I am, and always will be, for all she's done. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Big thanks also go to Ari for her work on the design (which I'm completely loving), as well as to Krissy, who shared her talent by adding some of her own touches to the project logo (by the way, she let me take a sneak peek of the holiday cards soon to be available in her Etsy store and I can confirm they are amazing!).
I've met some really great people here in this corner of the blogosphere, which is one of the original reasons why I wanted to start something collaborative with the notebook project. While it's not visible to everyone who visits, from my perspective nowhere is that generous sense of collaboration more apparent than in the Unattended! blog, which came together, and will continue to evolve, from the efforts of everyone involved. Thanks to each and every one of you (and one more big thank you to Barbara)!
[top image © { B a r c a ,,]
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Over a week without posting. Bad, Jude, bad!
I know it did seem as if I pretty much abandoned the blog last week, but in reality I was just succumbing to the choice of one thing over another, namely work. By the time the end of the evening would roll around and I'd open my laptop, I just didn't have enough oomph left over. I also know that when things are quiet over here that's my usual boring reason (unlike me saying "I'm off to Europe for two weeks!") and it probably seems like a lame excuse, but, alas, it's true. I'm hoping it's not the case, but it may get a little worse in the next couple of weeks (although in terms of the blogosphere if you go from no blogging to no blogging, how much worse can it get?) as my office is in the process of getting ready to move and working out all the details is on my plate. So, bear with me (again) as I push through another busy patch.
There's a quote by Lao Tzu which reads: "Time is a created thing. To say 'I don't have time,' is like saying, 'I don't want to.'" But I do want to! I do!
[image © England]
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Is a somewhat silent post better than no post at all?
I know I was close to completely MIA here on the blog last week, as well as over at my usual reads, but I promise to do a better job this week of making my presence known. There's more craziness going on at work and I guess I just can't change gears as quickly as I used to, can't multi-multi-multi-task with the skill I used to possess. Something has to give and last week it was the blog.
The good news is that Fall really is in the air, and even though we're short on gasoline here in the ATL (lines are long and tempers are short), biodiesel and diesel is in plentiful supply (if I was ever thankful for my little BioBug, now is the time!).
Here's to cooler weather, alternative fuels, and being able to do and have it all. ☺
[image © Irene Suchocki]
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I am behind, on just about everything. I need to return phone calls, send long overdue replies to e-mails, write thank-yous, clean up the yard, my house, my car, take recycling (and lots of it) to the recycling center, just to name one or two (or seven out of at least a hundred on the list). Is it really ever possible to get it all done? And if I'm behind isn't that kind of a good thing, because it means I'm always be working to catch up? Or is it a bad thing, because it means I'm someone who can never quite get it all together? Let's hope it's the former. ☺
[image © tybcat_64]
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As of next week I'll be publishing the blog to the run4istrun.com domain, so please update your Bookmarks and Favorites to http://run4istrun.com. I'll continue to publish to both blogspot and the domain through the end of the week, but as of Monday all future posts will be housed over at the domain. I've been having problems with the auto-redirect and don't want to miss any of you, so appreciate you making the change. ☺
[image © Mariposa Indigo]
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I really can’t believe we’re already in the throes of September. I know that seems like a tired old sentiment, but it really is true. Weren’t we just celebrating the New Year?! I suppose it’s a mark of maturity, or maybe just old age setting in, when the days, weeks and months between January and December seem to become shorter and shorter. Will the process reverse as I get older, just as it seemed to be the opposite when I was a child, bursting to get out into the world and be whoever and whatever I was supposed to be? When you make that transition from a dependent child to a self-supporting adult, does some sort of instant osmosis occur that makes the warp speed of time set in?
September has come to mean so many things for me. First, the approach of autumn is here and with it comes a welcome respite from the burdensome heat of summer (don't you just feel lighter when the weather's cooler?). It’s the demarcation point for the seasons; a time of year I really do love, signaling just a bit more to go before the holidays will be upon us. Of course it’s also become the anniversary month for the event forever etched in our memories as ‘9/11.’ I read so many great posts and comments on this last week, each taking that moment out to remember and all reminding me to see the big picture. I sometimes look beyond this when I’m lost in the minutiae of the day-to-day, but tell myself if I still have the ability to sit back and see that panoramic instead of just my own close up; if it’s not completely wiped from my view, no matter what might be going on that may seem overwhelming at the time, I’m still okay.
I think up to this point of my life the most important part of September for me is that it’s the month during which I lost my Mom, three years ago on the 30th. I’ve been thinking a lot about her lately, trying to keep my mind completely open so she can send me a sign, a message, something, but nothing comes. I’ve thought about maybe covering my head with aluminum foil to increase the vibes (Does that work? Or is that only for communicating with aliens?), but haven’t tried it yet. My Aunt, her sister, often tells me she talks to her. I guess I do too, and while it’s mostly in my thoughts it’s also sometimes out loud, but I don’t ever expect, or hear, any response. It’s during these times I wish I was clairvoyant, or possessive of a sixth sense, but it’s just not there.
The Sunday before last my friend Liz called me in the morning, the first time I’d spoken to her in months. The first question I asked her, because I knew she hadn’t been well, was “How is your Mom?” There was a silence from her I knew could only mean one thing, and when she finally replied with, “You don’t know?” I immediately felt a sinking feeling in my stomach and couldn’t help but start to cry. Her Mother, someone I’d been privileged to know since my childhood, had passed away in late July, and I hadn’t known. Liz thought I would have heard and as she hadn’t really been up to talking with anyone, had not called me. I hadn’t heard, didn’t know, and felt that much worse for not being there for Liz, who’d lost her Mom, and her niece and my friend Amy, who’d lost her grandmother. She assured me they’d had a very small private service for family only, but I was still left with this horrible feeling for not knowing. Shouldn’t I have sensed something? Shouldn’t I have just known? It struck me how the delicate balance of life really isn’t so delicate after all, as not even the end of a life will stop the inevitable movement of the everyday. While those of us who were part of that life do stop to a certain extent, and change our courses accordingly, everyone else just keeps going.
Liz was one of the first people I called the morning my own Mother passed away. She knew my Mom had been sick and after my brother phoned to let me know she was gone, I picked up the phone, not really knowing who I wanted to talk to, but dialing Liz on instinct. It was very early, but I knew she’d be up getting ready for work. I called, but then really couldn’t make any words come out of my mouth. I was sitting on my bed, trying to steady myself for that first wave of grief I knew was about to hit and while I didn’t say anything for a few minutes, she knew. “Is it your Mom?” she’d asked me. I eventually regained enough of my composure to form a sentence or two and while I don’t remember exactly what we ended up talking about, maybe the details of when she had passed and when the funeral would be, it will always been a conversation, or lack thereof, I’ll remember.
I think this is what hit me so hard when I learned her Mother had passed; not only because she was a great lady, someone I’ll miss and of whom I have fond childhood and adult memories after knowing the family for so long, but because in that one instant it brought back everything I'd felt that morning my Mom had gone, when it was me calling Liz. And even though all of us experience loss in a very singular way, just as my brother, sister and I have probably felt the loss of our Mother in different ways, I really did understand what she must have felt.
So now almost three Septembers have passed and it has gotten easier. Maybe easier isn't the correct word; I think different is probably more accurate. It's not as sharp, it's not as close, not as mournful, but it's still, and always will be, there. Right alongside the surprising resiliency of the mind, and the heart.
I am keeping a list of questions for my Mom, things I should have asked her while she was here, but maybe they'll just have to remain unanswered until I see her again. Or maybe I'll try the aluminum foil on my head and with Divine Intervention will adjust the cap just so and hit the right channel at the right time . . .
[image © ViaCreativa]
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I'm guest blogging at Paper Schmaper today. See you back here tomorrow!
[image © AtDuskGreg]
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Oh Ambien, you who sings a lullaby to my brain cells as you cover them with a blanket and tuck them in, if loving you is wrong, I don't want to be right!
Actually, it's not that I love Ambien so much (although I kind of do), it's more that I absolutely do not love the inability to sleep, something with which I've been plagued for a week plus now. I just can't function properly without at least a solid six hours of slumber, and the deficit is starting to take its toll. So, God bless my Liberal With The Prescription Pad doctor for the relief I'll be getting tonight. ☺
I always have very animated dreams during an Ambien-induced sleep. Maybe tonight it will be an amplified version of the seat belt ding going off in my car (ding! ding!), because the stack of recyclables (magazines, newspaper, and a box of superseded law books) in the passenger seat is so high the sensors think it's an unbelted person sitting there. Maybe it will be about my cat, who's scheduled for a shaving tomorrow. I wonder what he's going to look like without any hair? Or maybe I'll just dream about something random that will seem so completely real in the middle of it, but which I probably won't remember in the morning. Either way, at least my dreams, or lack thereof, will be part of a good night's sleep. Some good solid sleep. The pillow is calling my name . . .
[image © BidWiya]
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A very happy birthday to Jen! Hope you're having fun in Tally.
[image © AlmostAwake]
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It seems like we're always running towards something, and for me it's to the end of this week.
This image by Maria Blomqvist is actually from the 2008 high heels running competition held in Helsinki. Running? Running fast? In heels? It makes my toes crinkle in revolt just thinking about it! Hats (or heels) off to those who participated.
Hope you all have a great holiday weekend.
[image © Maria Blomqvist]
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We're still getting some rain from Tropical Storm Faye, and the sound of it falling on the rooftop is just so nice. I'm putting myself in time out tonight, closing up the laptop, curling up with a book and enjoying the quiet. Exciting, huh?
Wait . . . an e-mail just came in from Kirsty in Australia who's the first international recipient of a notebook. Yay! After I reply to her then I'll shut down the laptop, and be quiet. ☺ Have a good night.
[image © LeventeZone]
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I know there is history abound regarding Sunday being the first, or the last, day of the week, but for all Jude-like purposes I think of Sundays, specifically Sunday evenings, as the end of my week. The two day break the weekend affords is almost over, and the next day is back to work. Bleh!
This has been a good week, and although I've already used it to say a lot of thank-yous, I just wanted to end this week by saying a few more.
Thanks to everyone who's given me such positive feedback on the new blog design. It means a lot and I hope you're all liking it as much as me. One more dose of appreciation goes out to Ari for all her hard work in getting it up and running.
BIG thanks, also, to those who have generously helped with both overall and blog space support for Do Not Leave Unattended!, specifically to Erin, Krissy, Diana, Jeff and Terri who helped spread the word by posting about the project on their blogs. As of the time of this post, including those who've already or soon will receive a notebook, the total amount of participants is 94. That number, and whatever it ultimately grows to be, would never have happened without all of you. I can't wait until the contributions start coming in! I'm going to go ahead and give Unattended! its own blog, and hope to launch that within the next two to three weeks. If you're on the list of participants, I'll be e-mailing you with project updates until the blog is up and running.
And on that positive note, I sign off for this week with one final note of thanks ... to each and every one of you. ☺
[image © Samantha Lamb]
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Yay! The new design is up, and I can’t go any further without giving proper credit and thanks to Ari Moore for helping to take what I had in my head and turn it into code (since what I have in my head is usually a big mess it sounds like an impossible feat, but she did it!). I connected with Ari after stumbling upon one of her Flickr images, going to her web site and then blog, the tag line for which is ‘Adventures in making art and living sustainably.’ You all know what a zealous Tree Hugger I am, and with that statement and Ari’s work being so fantastic (all the illustrations here are hers), Shirari, the creative team Ari and her partner Shira have built, seemed like the right fit. Ari, I know I’ve ended every e-mail we’ve exchanged with a thank you, but let me just add as many more as you can handle!
The first item Ari crossed of the list was taking the header image I’ve been using for a while now and turning it into an illustration. I wanted to hang on to it for a just a teeny bit longer, so included it above for one more post. So many of you have commented or e-mailed me to let me know how much you liked this picture, and as I felt the same and wasn’t quite ready to let it go, I decided to keep it here but instead put it in a whole new light. The image, entitled Asleep, is an original by the very talented photographer Dorothy O’Connor, whom I’m honored to call a friend, and who was extremely gracious in permitting me to use it. If you miss seeing it, please contact Dorothy about ordering a print of your very own!
It’s probably going to take me the remainder of the week to get up to speed with all the new changes and for Ari to make a few tweaks here and there, but starting next week I hope to be back to updating daily. Here are my introductions to some of the new features I hope you’ll all enjoy:
Fresh Pic of the Day - Even if I don’t post each day, this feature will always be updated on a daily basis, Monday through Friday (unless I'm deathly ill and if that's the case I know you'll forgive me!). I'm really liking the new pop-up window functionality for this, so click on the thumbnail to check it out. Input needed: Would you like to be able to comment on these images, or is it enough to just view it and take from it what you will?
Inadvertent Eavesdrop – I’m kind of embarrassed to tell you I have stacks of little receipts rescued from the bottom of my purse, sad and wrinkly, on which I’ve written little tidbits I’ve overhead here and there, always in public places and mainly from people on their cell phones. I don’t ask to be a third party to their conversations, but what can you do?! If I hear something I find humorous, the pen comes out of my wallet and I jot it down. I have to do something with them, so I thought the blog was the perfect place to share. This will also include pop-up window functionality for the thumbnail so you can see more details on where and by whom. I hope to update this at least once or week, possibly more if I hear something really good! Obviously, kids, I’m easily amused (although sometimes I’m really not)!
Currently Listening and Currently Reading – The more I listen and the more I read, the more I'll update!
Do Not Leave Unattended! – This new link is really the one about which I’m most excited. Take a peek for all the details and let me know if you’d like to participate. I’ll be posting all updates regarding the project to this page, and it will also be the home of all contributions. Things are just getting started up and the layout for the page may change a bit, but it will always contain the most current information.
Faves – Of course the spot where I’ll link to my favorite blogs and artists. Both lists will continue to grow, but for now on the Blog Love list I had to share links for those I really do read every day, and to those of you who have so graciously linked here. I know I’ve needed to reciprocate for a while now and I’ve been waiting for the blog redesign to do it. Thanks to each of you!
For the actual blog posts, I’ve really thought about narrowing my focus, but as I’ve shared before I’m still trying to find my spot here in the Blogosphere and just can’t seem to get away from being ‘random!’ I’ll continue to feature artists, objects and ideas I love, mixed in with my personal ramblings, to which your response is always encouraging and most appreciated.
That’s pretty much it for now, so please bear with me this week as everything gets smoothed out. Thank you for sticking around! ☺
[image © Dorothy O'Connor]
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I know it's been another dry week for posts over here, but stay posted for Monday when I'm crossing my fingers and toes (and legs, and arms) I'll be coming to you with the new blog design. Even if we run into a glitch this weekend and things get pushed back, I'll be posting details on a new project I'm starting, and one of which I hope all of you will want to be a part. Until Monday!
[images © Richard Avedon]
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When am I going to change? Very soon, I hope! If everything goes according to plan (ah, the best laid plans), by this time next week, if not before, the blog redesign will be up and running. This has been in the works since early May, and even though I've been of the 'It's just a personal blog, there's no rush,' mentality, I'm kind of anxious to see things finally fall into place.
After giving a lot of thought to switching platforms, I decided to stick with Blogger, so other than a whole new look with some bells and whistles added to the mix, it will pretty much be business as usual. I hope you'll like it! There will be a good bit of new coding for some of the features, so while I learn how to make changes and keep things updated some of the new goodies may temporarily be out of service, but I'll try to keep those instances to a minimum.
Almost a year into blogging now, I'm still kind of pondering my place in the blogosphere. Is there really room for me around here? Am I leaving electronic traces worthy of taking up space? I'm still trying to figure it all out (like a lot of other things in my life), and while I continue the process just wanted to take a minute to thank all of you (and you know who you are) who have made me part of your own corners of the blogosphere. You visit here daily, always take the time to comment, and have essentially become an important part of my days. In our virtual relationships we may be only scratching the surface of what each of us have to offer, but that scratch is an indelible mark and one to always be remembered.
Keep on the lookout for the new and improved, and THANK YOU so very much for being along for the ride.
[images © -Teddy and The Cat & Her Fiddle]
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Does this look familiar?!! I am completely amazed at the painting the Fabulous Fifi Flowers created of my living room. Read her post here for details of her inspiration. Thank you, Fifi!!! If only all my Fridays could start off on such a good note!
[image © Fifi Flowers Design]
Can you find the three frogs in this picture? Two of them are camouflaged fairly well so I used pink flowers instead of asterisks or arrows to zoom in on their hiding places. If you click on the photo to enlarge it you'll definitely get a better glimpse.
Yes, tonight I'm writing about, among other things, frogs. I know, you're probably thinking, "But Jude, you haven't blogged all week and now you're coming to us with frogs?" Well, um, yes.
Julia published this post yesterday, Small Things, and included an excerpt of the Fourth Letter from Letters to a Young Poet by Ranier Maria Rilke: "If you trust in Nature, in what is simple in Nature, in the small Things that hardly anyone sees . . ." Which brings me to the frogs, those three small Things which have taken up residence in my pond.
I haven't seen many frogs since I've been living in Atlanta. I know they're out there, but they just haven't seemed to be hanging out at my house. No lizards, either, and each year as the summers seem to grow more hot and humid, I notice less and less lightning bugs making the rounds at night. They really used to light up the landscape and I can vividly remember the times in my childhood when I'd catch them by the handful, depositing them into an old Mason jar and then using it as a flashlight. Now it just seems like their wondrous population is dwindling, along with so many other things, small Things, which just don't seem to be like they were. This is why my three little frogs, who despite them completely ignoring me and jumping right into the pond the second they sense I'm near, bring a smile to my face. If my little homegrown ecosystem can be thriving, then maybe there's still hope for the rest of the world. I sure hope so.
Having the pond installed has been one of the best improvements I've made to the property since buying my house. It's right off the patio, so it's the focal point from the french door in the kitchen and the den. Since we mainly use this door to come in and out of the house, the pond is the first thing I see when I leave in the morning, and in turn the first thing my eyes set upon when I get home. 
Our family of fish currently totals eight. Two Koi, five goldfish and one algae eater (the latest goldfish and the algae eater were about to be homeless, so Alysha agreed to adopt them). I always walk up to the pond and peer down at them. "Hello babies!" I say, and just like the frogs, they completely ignore me. You think they'd be used to me by now and would swim up to the top of the water to greet me (am I expecting too much out of my fish?), but instead they swim away as fast as they can. That's okay, because as long as they continue to thrive (do you see how fat those goldfish are?), they'll be more of the small Things I appreciate.
And so we've covered Frogs and Fish, and now we come to Fashion. Of course the latter has nothing to do with the former (at least most of the time), but it's been kind of a weird week for me, so pardon the strange, seemingly nonsensical post. ☺ I've been having a lot of Calgon moments I just can't seem to shake, when I pull into the parking lot at work and leave my little Beetle running for a few extra minutes, kind of hoping an instant splash of emancipation will come my way and I can put it in reverse and leave, just go and find my way to that destination to which I know I should be headed, but for which I still haven't figured out how to plot the course. Those kind of moments. But instead I turn off the engine, and get out of the car, and walk into the building, and into my office, and keep plugging away until the end of the day finally makes an appearance. Yeah, definitely one of those weeks.
The Fashion comes in thanks to Kylie, who published this fantastic post last week about Fashion Illustration and some of the artists she's come to admire. It got me thinking about some of my own work from years ago (a lot of years ago), when I used to draw and paint regularly, fashion works included. 
This was a piece inspired by a souvenir Noshi Bukuro a former boss brought back to me from a trip to Japan. These are very elaborate envelopes the Japanese use for giving monetary gifts. They're really quite something, and the original looked something like this:
until I proceeded to disassemble it and turn the remains into what became a mixed media piece that inspired the dress and the colors throughout.
I don't know why I haven't picked up a charcoal pencil or a paintbrush (other than to paint my house) in so long. How did I get from there to sitting in my car in the parking lot, waiting for Calgon to take me away? What happened in between? Of course a lot of living, and some wonderful and other not so wonderful experiences, and a few things thrown in by fate for good measure are what happened. They've been the key ingredients in who I am, and am not, today, but I'm thinking I really need to stir the pot. Frogs, Fish and Fashion. If that's not a good blend, I don't know what is . . .
Thanks, Jewels, for reminding me to think of and appreciate the small Things, and just how much they really mean. ☺
Labels: Random
Yeah, I'm pretty excited about it, too. Can't you tell? ☺
Have a great week everyone!
[image © Claudia Steinbrecher]
Labels: Photography, Random
Most of the public buses I've seen around town recently are covered with ads for the Dialogue in the Dark exhibition opening here on August 30th. If my interpretation of the tour map is correct, the Atlanta show will be the only one held in the United States, and I'll definitely be buying a ticket when they go on sale this Friday.
"The idea is simple: In completely darkened rooms blind people lead small groups of guests through an exhibition in which everyday situations are experienced altogether differently, without eyesight.
A role reversal takes place: sighted people are torn out of social routines and familiar acceptance. Blind people provide a sense of orientation and mobility and become ambassadors of a culture devoid of images. They prove that being blind is a different, interesting way to perceive and lead life and has nothing to do with thoughts of suicide and despair. Everybody shares an unforgettable experience. They feel their own limits, perceptions and gratitude for their eyesight; they come to understand the importance of empathy, communication and solidarity and develop respect for people who see the world through different eyes."
I've actually been wondering lately, for selfish reasons, which of my five senses I would give up if I had to choose? How would I compensate if I couldn't see, hear, feel, taste or smell? How would you?
I know I'm incredibly blessed (knock on wood) for not having to make that choice up to this point in my life, or have it involuntarily made for me by one circumstance or another. The selfish part comes in as I've been wondering how I might alter my sense of smell, or be willing to lose it altogether, if it would mean an escape from the horrible perfume to which I've recently been subjected on a daily basis. Specifically, one of my co-workers wears something, lots of something, of which my nose absolutely does not approve. I have no idea what it is, but no matter how much of my own perfume I spray on in the morning, this other fragrance immediately takes over. I can even smell it in my clothes when I get home! It really is bad, and I'm trying to think of the appropriate way to handle it. Should I just buck up and say something? Should I not say anything and just live with it? Should I feign an allergic reaction to spores in my office so I can conveniently relocate to the other side of the building? I do have a very sensitive nose; it's been with me for a while now so you could say we're pretty good friends, and you know for me to be willing to part with it altogether means the situation is pretty significant. Help me! Please!
All selfishness, and olfactory drama, aside, I'm really looking forward to this exhibition: "An Exhibition to Uncover the Unseen." I know it will be a profound opportunity for me to learn, to appreciate, and to see, or not see, the everyday things around me in a whole new way. And how often do opportunities like these ever really come along?
[exhibition image and text © Dialogue in the Dark]
Labels: Random
I've been mentally counting down the days for weeks now, and it's just about here. Not only do I have the rest of the week off (hallelujah, and the timing for some R&R couldn't be more perfect!), but tomorrow night is the Tom Petty concert out in Alpharetta. Jen is coming up from Orlando with a friend and the three of us and my brother are all going, with tickets for excellent seats in hand. Alpharetta is in the 'burbs just outside of Atlanta, and the new Verizon Wireless Amphitheatre opened there in May. I haven't been yet, but what better opportunity to check it out than when Tom Petty is in town?
My musical tastes are pretty diverse; Aimee Mann to Weezer, Billie Holiday to U2, and a whole lot of other stuff in between, including Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. I've never seen them in concert, so am looking forward to the show (and of course not working for the rest of the week. Did I mention that?!!).
Concert update to follow . . .
[images © tompetty.com]
Last Sunday would have been my Dad's 88th birthday. He passed away when I was 10, and my parents divorced when I was 5, so I don't have many memories of him. There was the time he came home with a toupée, and how this caused such a stir of laughter at the dinner table he furiously got up and walked away, and the one night I spent at his house (a condo, actually) after he and my Mother had divorced, with me helping to make scrambled eggs the next morning. I also have the vague memory of him taking my sister and I to the long ago defunct Marco Polo Park, and of course of the days when he was sick with cancer and close to leaving the world. That's it, really, those are the dimples I have in my brain when it comes to my Dad.
His birthday is not a date I've always kept in my head, but when my Mom passed away in 2005 I took custody of her At-A-Glance calendar, the one she had as long as I can remember, and for which she always faithfully replaced the pages every year, diligently writing in birthdays, anniversaries, and other dates she found important enough to remember. As I'm glancing through the pages tonight I can just see her sitting at the kitchen counter, taking a new calendar out of the box, writing down all the events and adding one more year as she prepared to insert the pages. I see she even kept track of the day Dusty, the cat we had when I was a child, died. I'm getting a little away from my topic here, but seeing this calendar and her very singular handwriting remind me how much I miss her. I knew she did this every year, but now that she's gone I have a much greater appreciation for it. There are a lot of little things like this that made her who she was, and it's all become amplified. I know we're supposed to recognize and appreciate a person's qualities while they're here, but I think I've figured out there are just some things we don't fully hold dear until they are gone, and maybe it's supposed to be that way?
Here's a pic of my parents well before I was born, taken when they were living over in Germany where my father was stationed in the Army (that tiny little waist; those matching white gloves!). He was an avid Porsche enthusiast, owning several over the years and playing a pivotal role in founding the Porsche Club of America, and he and my Mom used to strap a suitcase to the back and make weekend jaunts around Europe. 
Combined with the dearth of memories, I also only have a handful of pictures of my Dad. Honestly, the total must be less than 10, all of which I do treasure because I see them, remember his face, and wonder what he was thinking at the time. Here, a newly enlisted serviceman who'd eventually retire at the rank of Lieutenant Colonel:
and here (second row from top, far right), as a young boy obviously completely ecstatic on the occasion of his first confirmation.
I often wonder how different my life would be today if he had lived longer and I'd had the chance to know him, or even if my parents hadn't divorced and my mother would have been a widow instead of a divorcée? Who would I be? Where would I be? Of course these are the 'what if' questions even children of perfect marriages and long surviving parents can ask, but ones to which we'll never know the answers. Life just happens, and even though I lose my way sometimes (hmmm, have I ever really found my way?), I'm able to feel and enjoy and endure and appreciate everything along its path. And if it wasn't for you, Dad (and you, Mom), I wouldn't be a part of it all. So wherever you are . . . happy birthday, and thanks . . .
Labels: Random
. . Your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free . . .
Thank you, Founding Fathers and Lady Liberty for the holiday yesterday. I needed it! Honestly, if the 4th had fallen on a Saturday this year I would have felt completely jipped. Tire; tired (she does look kind of cute up there holding that tire, don't you think?). It's all kind of running together, and after a week of 13+ hour days I think there is finally a light at the end of the tunnel. I knew I was reaching levels of delirium when I noticed late Thursday morning my panties were on backwards, and then when I spied some pine needles in the recycling bin and instead of pulling them out to throw them in the trash, tossed them in the refrigerator instead. Can you say 'sleep is needed?"!!
I guess I am either completely out of shape, my stamina has just gotten up and gone, or I'm feeling my age. Or maybe it's a combination of all three? I used to be able to pull all nighters and work crazy hours every week without pause, and I think I still have it in me somewhere; it's just harder and harder to get it to come out. ☺ Don't get me wrong; I firmly believe hard work is a very good thing, and I do think I fall into the 'hard worker' category so there are no complaints on my end when a rise to the occasion is necessary. It's just that getting there feels different these days.
So, these past couple of days away from the office (even though some e-mail issues have had me stressing and making remote tweaks here and there) have been for much needed catch up (what was I thinking letting the maid, the gardener, and my personal assistant take time off?!!). And although the media helicopters hovering nearby to cover the Peachtree Road Race (I live very close to the starting line) didn't allow me to sleep in late yesterday morning, at least I could reach an awake state at a somewhat leisurely pace, instead of jumping to attention at the alarm so I could be at the office by 6:30.
There's still a lot more to do, and although tomorrow will probably find me at the office for most of the day, I hope I've crossed the hump and next week should be a bit better (hope being the operative word!).
Here's wishing you all had a very happy 4th, and special thanks to those of you who checked in on me when I was too busy to surface!
[image © Porky Jupp]
Labels: Random
I know my posts last week were a bit skimpy, and this week may not be much better, so please bear with me as my level of sanity is once again put to the challenge! I know that's a bit dramatic ☺, but I'm super busy at work right now with the merging of our firm and another, and it may be a bit before I can catch my breath. So, if I'm seemingly MIA, please know it's just for a short while and I'm still here sending all good vibes out into the blogosphere . . . Hope you all have a GREAT week.
[images © puckduim]
Labels: Random
No, not laughing my ass off; lunging my ass off. As in lunges. At the gym. Lunge; curl; lunge; press; lunge; curl; lunge; press. And no, I don't look anything like the model above exhibiting perfect form and posture (I could lunge my life away and still never look as good).
Because of my new and improved hip I can't do uninhibited lunges any longer, with the very deep bend, or the double lunges I used to have mastered, but I'm finally able to do them in pretty good, and obviously correct, form, as two days later my glutes are still screaming. "Come on, Jude," they whine, "We're perfectly fine with being soft!" My friend Susan tells me they're the best thing for your glutes, especially if you want that 'throw a quarter off 'em' look. I'm not really interested in throwing things off my butt, but defying gravity? Now that's another story. Haven't they made a pill for this stuff yet?!!
[images © David Bohn and Frank Synopsis]
Labels: Random
Friday's just about here, and you know you're not going to be completely in the throes of work because you're thinking about 5:00 not getting here fast enough, and anticipating everything the weekend might entail (well, at least that's how it's probably going to be for me), so in all the inevitable downtime pay a visit to the Coudal Partners web site. To quote the webmaster: "If browsing around here while at work has had a negative effect on your productivity we're sorry but imagine what it's done to ours." There's so much here, including the not-to-be-missed Western State, a series of documentaries featuring artists Andy Mueller, Cory McAbee, Geoff McFetridge and Jason Gnewikow. Go ahead . . . take a peek.
[image © Hellen van Meene]
Blonde Moment No. 9,453: See the train wreck about to happen, but because of some momentary molecular malfunction, be unable to stop it. More specifically, clumsily spill an almost full chocolate protein shake onto my robe, freshly showered feet, and bedroom floor, leaving very messy stains upon the FLOR tiles (doesn't this look lovely?!).
Yes, this was how my morning began; me seeing the glass about to slip from my hand and all that chocolate liquid landing upon the white, and off-white, and other creamy soft shades of the Modern Mix (n/k/a Tonal Quartet) tiles covering the floor in my bedroom. If it had been water it would have been an easy fix, but chocolate? On light colored carpet? I was running a little late for work and didn’t have time for thorough clean up, so instead just made some quiet weeping sounds as I pouted about the mess I’d made, then covered it with a towel to absorb the liquid.
This is the beautiful thing about FLOR tiles; the ability to pick them up and wash them, or easily replace one or two or more if the dirt or stain is a little too overwhelming. I actually had a box of spares on hand, so when I made it home tonight my first task was to go ahead and switch out the dirty ones, and now it’s like my Blonde Moment never happened (if only they were all so easily fixed)! I did wash the offenders and all the chocolate was rinsed away, so now they're outside drying and most likely will soon be used in my closet.
I love getting the FLOR catalog, as even when I'm not in the market for new floor treatments, the layouts and styling are always chock full of great eye candy.
I once asked the very lovely and always incredibly helpful Michele DuBard, Showroom Manager of the FLOR store here in Atlanta, about a sofa I'd spotted in one of the catalogs. She told me the images are usually shot in customer's homes, with the customer's furnishings, and this particular sofa was no exception as it turned out to be a vintage piece belonging to the homeowner. I like knowing the layouts are in real everyday spaces.
The best thing about FLOR (other than the tiles looking good and feeling good under your feet) is when you're ready to replace them, or switch them out for something new, they have a Return & Recycle Program available at no charge. When FLOR tiles are recycled through this program, they're guaranteed not to go into a landfill (and how great is that?).
Interface, Inc., the parent company of FLOR, is committed to their Mission Zero, and to reaching its goal of eliminating any negative impact the company may have on the environment by the year 2020 (2010 would be better, but I still applaud their environmental efforts very much).
If I had my druthers and an unlimited amount of funds, there's really no substitute for a gorgeous wool/mohair/silk rug (think The Rug Company), upon a hardwood floor, but such an effort would be a little (okay, a lot) outside my budget. FLOR really is the next best thing, and offers a much more affordable, customizable and still beautiful alternative.
Besides, as I've learned firsthand, FLOR and Blonde Moments just seem to go together . . .
[images © FLOR]
Labels: Good Stuff, Random
Yay! Mary-Louise Parker is back tonight with the new season of Weeds. I've been a fan since the beginning and am looking forward to what this season will bring.
You can read a great interview with Mary-Louise Parker here, from last month's Paper Magazine.
At 43 (really, age ain't nothin' but a number), I'm thinking she's looking pretty amazing. I guess portraying a widowed drug dealer really agrees with her!
[images © Marcelo Krasilcic for Paper Magazine]
Labels: Random
As I'm straightening up some things in my room tonight, including my one nightstand drawer reserved for stationery goods, it occurs to me I don't use them nearly enough. I always enjoy being the recipient of a handwritten letter or card, and while I think I'm pretty good at sending them out on a regular basis, by the amount of boxed stationery and paper products I have on hand I obviously don't send them often enough.
I thought about proposing a letter exchange, but then thought about something on a bigger, more collaborative scale. Is anyone interested in a letter writing project; not really letter writing per se, but an ongoing dispatch started by one person, then sent on to the next, etc., etc., etc.? I think the joint effort would produce a pretty incredible compilation. If you're interested let me know and I'll work on the details.
Hope you've all had a great weekend!
[image © Gordon Watts]
Labels: Random
I'm a Rock Star! Well, no, not really, but I do feel a little rock starish. A very big dose of gratitude to the fantabulous Erin of Design for Mankind for featuring moi in today's Reader Profiles post. All sorts of great things are happening over at DFM, and while I'm amazed at how Erin's getting it all done, I'm equally as happy to be along for the very inspiring ride. Thank you, Erin!
Labels: Random
Being a single mom has had its advantages over the years, including being the recipient of Alysha's craft projects on both Mother's and Father's Day. I was reminded of this when she asked me the other night, "What do you want to do for Father's Day?"
We pulled out the big crate I keep of the numerous pieces of artwork she's done over the years (because I just can't bear to throw anything away that was crafted with such love by those cute little hands), and found this one, a Father's Day card from 11 years ago. The kids were asked to pick out the qualities their Dad (or Mom, also serving as a Dad) possessed to include inside the card, and as you can see at that time she thought I was a lot of good things (including panting, which really should have been painting, but of course I forgave the typo).
Maybe in response to her query about what to do for Father's Day this year I'll ask her to make me a new card . . . just to see how much her opinion may have changed. ☺
[image © Alysha]
I promise. This is absolutely the last post about my formerly red, and then peeling, and now a slight shade of pink, face. That is, of course, until the next beauty crisis occurs, but I'm really hoping this was an aberrant and isolated incident. A freak of nature thing, like me. ☺ Or maybe just a bad batch of wax, and there are several women walking around the streets of Atlanta with an extra rose-colored tint to their skin. It's been a week to the day. A week! And while the trace evidence of my waxing tragedy is very faint, I can still see it. Deep cleansing breath. Let it go, Jude, let it go. . . Okay, I'm being a little overly dramatic, but with facial trauma aren't I allowed a little extra wiggle room?
The timing couldn't have been more perfect than when I received an e-mail from Karla today, forwarding this review of a local salon where they offer threading. Alysha goes here to have her brows done, and I've actually been here a couple of times myself, but after not seeing my regular aesthetician for a couple of months, I began to feel guilty, and disloyal (because she really is the nicest lady), so scheduled another appointment for waxing and haven't gone for threading since.
I've been thinking this week, though, that maybe wax and my face need to take a break from each other for a while, and the next time I need my brows done I should try another threading session. . . and then Karla's e-mail arrived and was pretty much the deciding factor for my next adventure in hair removal.
The threading process does freak me out a little bit, to have someone so close to your face with a thread in their mouth, whoosh-whooshing it so quickly, but the ancient technique is pretty amazing, and it does make for a nicely-arched brow. And the best part? None of the side effects that come with having your skin ripped off!
[images © clayjar and sweet jasmine]
Labels: Random
My brother called me this past weekend, while he and Jen were tooling around Orlando and as they made their way onto the street on which I used to live before moving to Atlanta. I could tell he’d probably had a beer or two (or tequila as it turned out) by the carefree tone of his voice (Jen was the diligent designated driver) and I listened as he told me about the improvements made to my old house since I’d been there. It was a great house on a great street, but definitely ached for improvements to bring it up to the level of most of the others in that neighborhood. I rented it during the years I lived there, so other than the aesthetics I worked on in the interior, didn’t make any substantive changes to the property. I’m glad whoever bought it gave it the freshening it deserved.
We chatted for a bit about this and that, and then he turned to a surprising subject. Not really surprising, but unexpected. “Hey Jude,” he starts, “You know those sheets you gave me a while ago?” Yes, I think to myself, the ones I gave you for your birthday last January? A year and a half ago?! “Well, I’ve started using them, and I have to tell you they’ve changed my life (did he really say changed my life?). And I mean an ‘I might even vote for Obama’ kind of change.” I laugh as this is an incredibly strong statement coming from my very conservative and stalwart Republican brother. “I’ve only ever slept on sheets the Army gave me or ones I’ve bought at Wal-Mart, and these are nice!” More smiling on my part, because these words really are unexpected coming from him.
I normally wouldn’t buy anything like a set of sheets for my brother, but for Christmas in ’06 I’d bought him a bedspread (not to be confused with a comforter, which he doesn’t really care for as they get too hot for his tastes) to replace the purple one from my Mom’s house he’d been using. Purple was her favorite color, so years ago she’d dyed her chenille bedspread purple, to match the dark purple carpet, and the purple grapevine pattern on the Spring Crest draperies in her bedroom (think time capsule, with lots and lots of purple). Even though he probably didn’t care about it being purple because he’s more of a ‘function over form’ kind of guy, I wanted to give him the opportunity not to use a purple bedspread, and bought him a new one in a very neutral shade of ivory/off-white. Not that there's anything wrong with purple bedspreads, but I know he's not really a purple lover and wanted to give him an effortless opportunity to sleep under something which wasn't of that particular color. Purple!
For his birthday the following month, I thought it would be nice to get him some good sheets which would match. Of course he was polite and said thank you, but obviously as it took him over a year to even open them up and put them on his bed, he probably wasn’t particularly excited about the gift I’d bestowed upon him. That is, of course, until he did open them up, and put them on his bed, and finally slept between them. Really, who knew (well, I knew, but he didn't know, and now that he has that knowledge, the possibilities are endless!)?
And so I wonder, should I start a ‘Random Acts of Good Sheets’ movement, offering a new set to strangers who look like they might be having a bad day or who could just use a little pick me up? “Put these on your bed tonight, friend,” I’ll say, “These will change your life!” Would they sleep on those sheets, and feel so good in doing so, that they wake up refreshed with a new attitude and in turn go out and do something really great in the world? Could good sheets really be the answer?
I know this is primarily speaking in terms of material things, and that it's the people in our lives, the relationships we build or end, and the experiences we have and share that matter most, but sometimes doesn’t our 'stuff' also cultivate change in our lives? Whether it’s because we want them and that pursuit pushes us to work harder, or because we have them and want to keep them because of what they bring to our lives, or because we want to give them to those we love or to those we know would be happy because of them.
I know we all come into the world naked and empty-handed, and we can’t take any of it with us when we go, but I admit there are those material moments I’ve really come to relish. Like when I climb into my bed freshly made with sheets just washed with Mrs. Meyer’s Lemon Verbena laundry detergent, and tumble-dryed with the same Lemon Verbena dryer sheets, and I fluff up my side sleeper pillow so my head fits in just the right little space and I breath in the fragrance and feel the softness and sigh heavy, because I know with certainty that’s a very good end to the day.
And so I do know one person can make a difference, and can change someone’s life, one set of sheets at a time . . . ☺
[image © PopKulture]
Labels: Random
Yep, still red, but no longer in the 'can't be seen in public' category. I'm thinking of this little incident as similar to that one episode of Sex and the City (still haven't seen the movie yet) where Samantha gets a 'freshening peel' the day before Carrie's book party. Remember how she wore that hat with a veil? I really needed one of those on Friday, but instead I just held my head low (as opposed to high) and avoided eye contact with anyone who spoke to me. Fortunately, I didn't have to interact with too many people, and hopefully the only person who will remember how I looked is me.
I'm not sure what happened with the waxing this time, as I've never had an adverse reaction like this before, but whatever the reason I've definitely learned my lesson about deviating from the schedule. No waxing on Thursdays. Ever!
Thanks for your support during this little crisis, something a girl can never have too much of when her face is, simply put, RED. ☺
[image © Ben Russell]
Labels: Random
I really need to wear a mask today, as at the moment I'm the Poster Girl for Facial Waxing Gone Bad. And I mean bad. Is this a legitimate reason for calling in sick?!
I've waxed my brows and what eventually turns into a very fine blonde mustache for a while now (probably more than you need to know about me, but you're all my blogging family, right?), and while I'm always pretty red afterwards because my skin is very fair and sensitive (also probably more than you need to know), by the next morning I'm usually back to normal, with the exception of some little bumps that go away in a day or two. This is why my strategic waxing schedule is so important, and why deciding to go on a Thursday night was a tragic mistake! I usually go on Friday nights after work if I don't have any plans, or first thing Saturday morning, so I have the weekend for my face to recover, but Emilia couldn't get me in on my preferred dates this week and I mistakenly opted for last night.
I knew there was a problem when she applied the usually cool and calming good smelling stuff she smooths on with a cotton ball after she's ripped all my hair off, and this time it stung. Horribly. "Um, Emilia?" I asked her, "This is stinging a good bit. That's not normal, is it?" In her very lovely Romanian accent she asked if I'd been putting anything on my face which would cause my skin to peel. Good Lord, I thought, are chunks of my face peeling away?!! I told her I hadn't been using any products other than my usual staples, and she then patted both sides of my face and said, "Just don't stop at the store on your way home so you don't have to see anyone. Tomorrow you will be beautiful as new!" Okay, Emilia, I think, as I look in the mirror and wince.
No such luck this morning, as I actually scare myself when I look in the mirror while I'm getting ready to go to the gym. Holy Red Face, Batman! Give that girl a paper bag to cover her head! The skin around my eyebrows is a very dark shade of crimson, and my eyelids are almost swollen shut. Around my mouth is even worse and it looks like I've rubbed poison ivy all over me just for the fun of it. I definitely can't go to the gym like this, so crawl back into bed and hope another thirty minutes of sleep will help and maybe I'll wake up and realize it's all been a bad dream . . .
Alas, from dreams come reality, and I say a little prayer as I'm in the shower that lots of concealer and a heavy application of foundation is going to help. It's looking pretty good until the last step, the finishing touch of the Shiseido loose powder I swear by and have used for years. Of course in the spots where I don't have any hair, or skin (!), the powder doesn't have anything to adhere to, so I'm really looking like one big hot mess.
The only bright spot here is that I didn't choose last night to also get a bikini wax. Who knows what damage that would have done?!!
Maybe I'll just work in the dark today and hope no one will notice. ☺
[image © Point-Shoot-Edit]
Labels: Random
I’ve needed to get a piece of marble for an antique piece I’m rehabbing, so stopped by the stone place down the street from my office yesterday to see if they had any scraps that might work. There I met Amy, who took me out to the warehouse so we could look at what they had in stock. As we walked threw the showroom door into the warehouse, I noticed a big blue plastic bag full of Styrofoam cups, plastic bottles and aluminum cans. The recycling program for the county in which I live here in Atlanta, and where the stone place is located, uses those blue plastic bags, so of course the Green Girl bell in my head started to ring. “You’re recycling!” I said to Amy, “I’m so happy to see that.” She turned to look at me, realizing I was someone with whom she could share her greener side, and then proceeded to tell me about how the workers there are finally coming around to recycling, how fanatical she is about it, how she pulls Styrofoam out of the dumpster, recycles everything she can at home, and how she freaks out when she sees all the recyclables in her neighbors’ trash, especially as the county makes recycling pretty no-brainer by picking everything up at the curb of your driveway.
Ding! Ding! Ding! Does this sound familiar?! More ringing of the Green Girl bell as I then shared with her my own bag lady stories, including adventures of covert garbage can retrievals, litterbug beautification projects, and how fanatical I am as well (as I'm thinking to myself it's nice to know I'm not the only freak out there!). There we were, two strangers in a warehouse, our green hearts pumping in unison for one brief moment. ☺
She called me later in the day to tell me how much the piece I’d picked out would be, so I dropped by there today to give her a check. When I got there and sat down to pull out my checkbook (greeted by the rescue kitties she lets live in the showroom, and the aroma of the Aveda products she uses in her hair; yes, I have one of those noses) she confirmed the total and just for the heck of it I asked, “Does that include the Tree Hugger Discount?” “That’s right,” she replied, “You are a Tree Hugger!” She laughed and did some quick plucking on her keyboard, then gave me a new total, more than $100 less than the original amount. $100! Now that’s a discount.
And the moral of this story is: be green, and get green in return!
Labels: Love the Planet, Random
Yep, this book could have been written about me last week. On the edge I tell 'ya, but on the edge of what? Therein lies the problem . . .
I'd taken my little blog break as it was just one of those weeks in which my brain could only take so much, and when I was able to escape to the comfort of home, the last thing I wanted to do was spend more time in front of the computer. This was further compounded late in the week by receipt of a scolding e-mail from my boss, to which I immediately wanted to defensively respond with a dose of smart ass thrown in for good measure, but I didn't (there is something to be said about exercising some restraint). As much of a proponent I am of technology, I've learned from experience that some communications are just not meant for e-mail. Every time I've ever dashed off a knee-jerk response to an e-mail I didn't like, I've regretted it. Not because I think I was wrong in my opinions (because let's face it, I'm never wrong☺), but because if I'd just given myself some time to calm down and think objectively, I would have replied differently, and not via e-mail. But, that's just his m.o., and it's not something I see changing now, or maybe ever.
I don't think the e-mail was mainly directed to me (it was sent to two of us), but there I was sitting at my desk, with the flush of red starting to cover my face, and me seriously contemplating not wanting to be there anymore. So much so that on Friday, even though I don't really see myself tendering my resignation, I packed up all of the personal belongings in my office and brought them home (I'm taking silent bets in my head as to whether or not anyone will even notice). I did this to signify movement; that even if it's just my pictures and paper weights (and even my business card holder!), something is moving and going in a different direction.
But now it's Sunday evening, and even though I worked yesterday and today, there has been that little bit of distance between that moment and now in which I find myself in a calmer place. I'm taking some time to catch up on my favorite blogs and when I came across this post over at Please Sir, thought to myself, "Hallelujah! I am not alone!" and wonder if Diana knows just how great her timing is?! I was actually encouraged to read a lot of comments from those who do love their jobs, just as I felt that unique kinsmanship with those who don't.
It's not that I hate my job, because I don't, but I've written before about how even though I work with people I like and make a good living while doing so, it's about as far away from the creative niche I feel I should be in as I can get. And when days like the ones in last week happen and I literally feel on the edge, what is it that keeps me from feeling the fear and jumping, instead of taking a step or two back because I know there's solid ground there?
I've got to talk to my doctor about getting on some good meds. Really!
[image © Matilda Kay]
Labels: Random
I'm taking a little break from the blog until next week, so check back in with me on Monday. Hope you all have a great rest-of-the-week and weekend.
[image © fiction~dreamer]
Labels: Random
Krissy ‘tagged’ me earlier this week, so here are my responses to the ‘getting to know you a little bit better’ queries:
1) What I was doing 10 years ago:
Let’s see . . . in ’98 I was working at a law firm in Orlando (my hometown, well, Winter Park actually) where I was the one-person IT Department supporting about 100 employees. It really was hell . . . and it’s a miracle I made it out of there without becoming an alcoholic or addict. I was working at least 60 hours a week and I think the only one who noticed or cared was me. My advice to anyone in a demanding and under appreciated position: Run like hell, because life really is too short!
2) The 5 things on my to-do list for today:
My work day is over for now, but in the hours left until I turn into a pumpkin I'm off to the Atlanta History Center with Marla to see the documentary, A Powerful Noise, which premiers locally there tonight.
Tomorrow I'll wake up happy that's it's Friday (unless my cat is his usually annoying self and keeps pressing his paws on my face before I'm ready to get out of bed), especially knowing it's a holiday weekend and I'll have an extra day to be productive (like more basement duty!), but probably wanting to go back to sleep when my alarm goes off at 5:30 a.m. so I can get up and make it to the gym by 6:00. Work tomorrow will consist of installing an external modem on the server since I think a lightning storm wreaked a little havoc on the internal one, installing an upgrade to the BlackBerry server, and then delving deeper into a couple new cases that have come in so I can understand what the issues are, make a list of things we still need, and then start to work on getting whatever those things might be. It's all pretty boring, but it's what I do, for now, until I decide what I want to be when I grow up and forge a plan to make it happen.
Tomorrow night might involve attending a photography reception in Decatur, part of the Decatur Arts Festival, and this weekend will involve lots of tasks at the house (including trying to wrap up my Shadowbox Collage project), pressure washing the front deck so it can be stained (yes, kids, I'm a woman with power tools!), work in the yard (it's really looking good, especially now that the hydrangeas are blooming), and a tour of Peter Bahouth's treehouses.
Pretty domestic, huh?
3) Snacks I enjoy:
I’m actually not much of a snack person, but when I’m being good and eating healthy I love to snack on watermelon, seedless red grapes, slices of a chilled Fuji apple, or Yogurt Honey Peanut Balance bars when none of the above is available. When I’m not being good (but I guess this is really ‘junk’ and not ‘snack’ food), I raid the candy jar at work for the little individually wrapped Snickers bars, or break into a bag of Pepperidge Farm Chocolate Chunk Cookies (first choice is the Tahoe White Chocolate Macadamia and second is the Sausalito Milk Chocolate Macadamia). Can you tell I love chocolate and support the evils of refined sugar?
4) Things I would do if I were a billionaire:
That is Billionaire with a B, right, and not Millionaire with an M (because you know a million dollars just doesn’t go as far as it used to!)? I’d like to say I’d be one of those people who win the lottery one night and get up and go to work the next morning, but I would definitely quit my job. I would be professional about it, though, and give my boss plenty of notice to try and find someone to replace me, although the reality is I’m irreplaceable and it would be impossible (yeah, right!).
Wow, there is so much I would and could do with that amount of money! For starters I’d pay off my mortgage, but I wouldn’t move, at least not right away, because I love my house and it’s really all I need (although I would love to have at least 10’ ceilings and some transom windows), and I'd definitely do some remodeling to bring it up to completely green and eco-friendly standards. I’d also buy property and a second home abroad, but I’m not sure where that would be.
The bulk of my funds would be used for philanthropic endeavors and I'd set up numerous charitable organizations, one being some sort of scholarship fund for single mothers who are artists and want to pursue their creative endeavors, but may be in a spot in their lives where they need to worry more about paying the bills instead. There’s lots of other ways I would try and help out those who need it, or support causes for the greater good in general, and having a billion dollars at my disposal would certainly make it much easier. I’ve definitely had some help along the way of my own path, and the karmic power of giving back is pretty great.
I’d also open up a fantastic art gallery to showcase the works of all kinds of artists, as well as hire someone much smarter than me to help develop a line of cosmetics (including mascara!) which are not only natural and cruelty-free, but come in completely plastic-free and biodegradable containers (Note: I hereby copyright this concept if no one is working on it yet).
Since I won’t have to work I would probably go back to school full time, too. I tried it a couple of years ago when I went back to SCAD part-time, but between tuition and work it was just too much.
And, I’d buy a modest but nice condo for my daughter so she could finally move out of the house!
I'd be doing a lot of good in the world, don't you think? Won't you donate a billion dollars to me today so I can make all these dreams come true? ☺
5) Places I have lived before:
When I really think about it I’ve moved quite a bit. A lot actually. I’ve been a resident of Orlando/Winter Park; Atlanta and the burbs here in Georgia; Reston, Virginia, and a brief stint of a couple of months at the Millenium Biltmore Hotel in downtown Los Angeles (this really doesn’t count because it wasn’t permanent, but it makes me sound more worldly, doesn’t it?)
6) 6 people I want to know more about:
Is this just limited to people in the blogosphere? If so . . .
Diana from Please Sir - she has an incredible eye for the good stuff, plus she's a Rufus Wainwright fan and that right there tells me she's good people;
Yasmine from A Print a Day – An incredibly talented artist and supportive blogging buddy, and I'm always interested in the details of those who create;
Kylie from Bandelle – I love her beautifully designed blog and all its content, especially her Take Two series.
And if not . . . some of my Etsy faves:
Cat Bishop - I've written about Cat before as I'm a big fan of her creative and fun sculptures, especially as she's mastered the art of recycling objects and repurposing them into something special (and I'd love to know what she'd do with a billion dollars!);
Elle Moss – Her self portraits are beautiful and amazing; and
Molly Jey - Her very skilled fingers produce some incredibly beautiful paper sculptures. She also lives in Italy and I'd love to know what she typically does during the day and what her favorite snack foods are!
7) There is no No. 7:
But for every question, I'll try to find an answer.
[image © ninja9ine]
Labels: Random
This e-mail from IKEA was in my Inbox this morning. Do you think these sentiments are only shared by Americans, or is the feeling of 'home' much more universal?Americans believe that home is the most important place in the world. How do we know? Well, for the last several months, we've conducted a survey asking very direct questions about what people think of their homes, how they spend time there, what they do there and what matters most to them. You can probably imagine how interesting the results turned out!
Watch the video here.
But we didn't stop at a survey. We really dug our noses into how people live when they're at their most comfortable and intimate. We filmed a documentary, sponsored a book by some famous photographers and engaged regular folks all across America to show us just how they live at home. The results are sometimes hysterical, sometimes touching, often surprising, always fascinating. To see some of the highlights, check out this short documentary on the making of AMERICA AT HOME, a book of photographs capturing all the ways in which we work, play, learn and interact in the most important place in the world.
[image © IKEA-USA]
Labels: Random
I’d like to think I’m still working towards building one, filling my virtual quarters with objects that are relevant and meaningful as well as the nonsensical, negligible and just nice to look at thrown in for good measure, but sometimes I wonder: do I really have (or need) a place here, or am I just taking up wasted space?
Diana at Please Sir published this post a couple of weeks ago, which really struck a personal note with me because some of the same thoughts about blogging (although not design specific) had been and continue to be on my mind. Statistics I’d read last year (and who knows what they are today?) on the Discover Magazine site noted that close to 60 million blogs exist online, with about 175,000 more cropping up daily (or about 2 every second). Anyone can have a blog, and a vast majority does, but should I really be one of the masses?
I don’t know the answer to that with 100% certainty, but in trying to give it as much earnest effort as I can I’m a little excited (and will be completely excited when it's done) to share that I’m getting some help with a complete blog redesign. My thought process here is that a freshening is in order, and even if the content sucks, well, I want it to at least look as pretty as I can get it, regardless! What is that saying, "You never get a second chance to make a first impression?" And isn't the same true for the first time someone makes their way to your blog?
It goes without saying the blogosphere is an enormous place, and in its virtual realm of never ending proportions, it’s pretty easy for even the very best navigators to get lost. I sometimes feel that way, lost without a map, but do I really want to be 'found?' I'll often see those 'Find Me Here' links on other blogs, with links to that blogger's pages on Facebook, MySpace, Flickr, Twitter . . . and the list goes on. I just don't know if I want to leave that large of an e-print on the web, and again, do I really need to?
Am I making any sense? I guess I'm starting to ramble, but I really am trying to find my place here, much like I'm still trying to find my place in the real world. My main obstacle is time, as there really aren’t enough hours in the day and unfortunately I have these things like a full-time job, a house to maintain, and a life away from my computer (each of which have the audacity to get in the way!), all keeping me from maybe taking things to another level.
I don’t know where this will go for me, if anywhere, maybe just continue to be the creative outlet it’s been to prevent me from completing imploding, or for how long (because there is that fear of burn out, or becoming irrelevant, or just starting to suck really bad), but I have to admit to liking where it’s taken me so far, mostly thanks to my little circle of virtual friends who have made all the difference in the world.
My online modus operandi used to be pretty duplicative of my m.o. in real life; I’m absolutely more of a listener than a talker. I’m not the girl who’s going to be the bubbly life of the party, but I will be the girl to take lots of mental notes and quietly size things up to the best of my ability (unless the margaritas are free-flowing, and then all bets are off!). It wasn’t until I stopped being a blurker and became a commenter that I really began to feel like a part of my particular online community, and even though I may never meet some of these fabulous ladies in real life, I do want them to know their presence is very much appreciated. And if it wasn’t for my blog, and their blogs, I likely would never have been introduced to them and come to enjoy their own unique contributions. Thanks to Jen (does it count if she’s bound to me by blood?), about whom I think I’ve actually learned more of from her blog than in all the years since she’s been born (am I a horrible Aunt, or what?!!), Amy (are you still out there? I miss you!), fantastic mother to two very busy little boys, my dear and incredible Erin of Design for Mankind, super-talented and stationer extraordinaire Krissy of Paper Schmaper, Diana at Please Sir, design aficionado, finder of beautiful things and someone with whom I hope to hit a few yard sales and vintage shops one of these days, the beautiful and equally as talented Yasmine of A Print a Day, and the others who visit on occasion and always leave a nice comment or two. Thank you so much, ladies!!
I suppose I should interpret this as a major metaphor for my life – that I need to ‘get out there’ (hasn’t that become a completely overused phrase yet?!) instead of entering into the hibernate mode I tend to retreat into more often than not. And maybe that's why I'm here, to take me to places I'd normally never go, and to create those relationships I otherwise wouldn't have been able to form.
So, stick with me as I keep trying to streamline my course, and work on making the map a little nicer to look at, and most of all thanks for making the journey with me. ☺
[images © Electronic Frontier Foundation, RSS Web Log and Guillermo Perales Gonzalez]
Labels: Random
Redheads not warheads 
Damn! Now why didn't I think of this catch phrase for a t-shirt?
I haven't watched Flight of the Conchords on HBO, but now that I've heard their Ladies of the World single I'll need to make a point of checking it out. The song is included in this month's New Music Sampler CD from Paste Magazine, and I have to admit to liking it, so much so that when it finishes playing I hit the back arrow on the CD player in my car so it will play again. The tune is catchy, and the lyrics make me laugh.
Blondes not bombs
We're talkin' about brunettes not fighter jets
Oooh Oooh it's got to be Sweet 16's not M-16's
When will the governments realize it's got to be funky sexy ladies?
[image © Home Box Office]
Labels: Random
I'm finished with. My Invisalign. Treatment. I write that in short broken sentences as after 22 weeks of wearing the trays at least 20 out of 24 hours a day, it’s been a little anticlimactic, and not like the major event it was when my braces were removed so many years ago. I don’t know what I expected, really; maybe to walk out of my orthodontist’s office and be met by a parade complete with marching band, or even just to smile at strangers and have them be blinded by the amazingly straight set of teeth residing within my mouth. Alas, there was no such fanfare, only my own small sense of satisfaction in being able to roll my tongue along the back of my bottom row and feel them all perfectly aligned, instead of the little bump from the one wayward tooth which had broken its accord with the others (it's also pretty good to feel enamel instead of plastic!).
I got out my first set of trays and compared them with the last, and honestly there's really not much difference, making me wonder if it was really worth it, and just why I had it stuck in my brain this was something I needed to do. I see where my top teeth were widened ever so slightly, and where the lower were spaced to allow that one troublemaker to move back into place. No one ever noticed the slight misalignment but me (because I'm terribly anal like that), and unless they were being extremely polite no one noticed the Invisalign trays (kind of the point with Invisalign, though), and no one is noticing now that they’re gone (maybe I need some new lipstick, or a collagen injection?). It’s not that being noticed was even the intention, but I guess I was hoping to feel . . . different somehow.
Despite my less than dramatic end result (and do I really need any drama, anyway?), I can definitely say I think Invisalign is the way to go for adult orthodontics. People expect to see braces on children and teens, and while more adults than ever are undergoing orthodontic treatment, I think it's still a tad out of the ordinary to see older men and women with shiny metal bands around their teeth. During my various appointments, though, I did see several adults I think I can safely guess were older than me, in for their check-ups and wearing full upper and lower braces, seated right next to the 10 and 12 and 16 year-olds.
The trays took a little getting used to, and I never came to enjoy or even got used to that feeling of having something foreign stuck in my mouth, but it was absolutely the least intrusive and inconspicuous method for accomplishing the task at hand. The only discomfort I ever experienced was when I'd start a new tray, which would be tight at first and make my teeth sore for a couple of days, or when I'd take the trays out to eat and because my teeth were still thinking there was something there, I'd have to chew on the sides of my mouth because I couldn't bite down properly. And then there was that whole lisp thing I had going on (yikes!) in the first few days, but which subsequently only made a reappearance on a handful of occasions.
So now my teeth have been liberated (Viva Libre!), and other than wearing the trays at night until my retainers are ready, I'm back to a plastic-free mouth with teeth all in proper, even if unnoticeable to the untrained eye, placement.
Now if only they made something like Invisalign for the rest of my body parts (an Invisalign bra, perhaps, to bring back the boobs I had when I was 18, or some Invisalign panties to take my butt back to those days, too)! ☺
[image © Invisalign]
Labels: Random
“I was always fascinated by the infinite,
strange and ‘scandalous’ ways
that insects copulate.”
-- Isabella Rossellini
Everything else is going green, why not porn? Plus, seeing Isabella Rosellini in some of her most uninhibited roles is strangely . . . amusing. Check it out here.
[image © Sundance Channel]
Labels: Random
Of course my daughter is going to say the answer to that is me (at least she'd better)! I've been driving by this sign all week, and each time I read it I think about the unlimited number of answers passersby are giving, and how different the question would be if just one more word was added to the end . . .
Hope all you Moms, mothers-to-be and non-Moms (because I think it's pretty much a day to just celebrate the fine art of being a woman) have a great Mother's Day!
Labels: Random
I don't do it often enough (unfortunately, there's quite a few things I don't do often enough!), but I really do enjoy entertaining. I try to have a big bash at the house at least once a year, usually in December to ring in the holidays, but throughout the year a little dinner party here and there helps to keep my cooking and hostess skills in tune. I get out the good china, charger plates, individual salt and pepper shakers, place card holders, table linens, and of course lots of candlesticks for dining by candlelight and fresh flowers for a final fragrant touch. We all know details really do matter, and setting a warm and welcoming table graced with as much detail as possible always makes me feel good.
Even though they're for 'decorative purposes only,' I would love to set a table with a collection of these Fornasetti plates from the Themes and Variations series, picking just the perfect one for each respective guest. Incredibly, over the years the series has grown from an original set of 6 to now over 350, each a unique variation of the lovely face which graces each plate. You can find a great selection (be ready to break the bank), including some exclusive designs, at Moss (go ahead and go for broke and check out the Extreme Moss products while you're there). Which plate should I set for you?
[images © Fornasetti]
This delicate little moth took up residence on the window in my dining room this morning, remaining there all day until the last bit of sun left the sky (I wonder if it had a party to attend somewhere after the sun went down?). I walked up to the window and took in all the detail of its invertebrate frame, silently amazed at its structure, thinking to myself that despite all the complexities and progress of modern technology available to us today, it’s still the simple things of the everyday that bring me a sense of contentment. I really could have spent the day curled up with a book, glancing over periodicially to check on the moth, and would have been perfectly fine.
Is this a sign of old age sinking in (or is it just pathetic?), when I've reached the point of finding it perfectly acceptable to hang out at home with a moth? I'd like to think it's more a sign of maturity (sounds good) or wisdom (even better) than infirmity starting to rear its ugly head (at least I sure hope so!).
[images © Run4istRun]
Labels: Random
I think this is probably an accurate depiction of the inside of my head: color and contortion mixed in with as much else as possible and squeezed into a very small space (although I think I do kind of have a big head, or maybe just a long neck?).
And I think this is an equally accurate likeness of the outside. Most onlookers offer curious glances as they drive on by. Ah, the joys of being weird. ☺
[images © Robert Whitman]
Labels: Random
Hello. My name is Jude, and I’m a __________________ (yes, I’m a blank). I’ve actually worn a lot of hats in my life to date (haven't we all?) so I could fill that in with numerous titles, both good and bad (mother, daughter, sister, friend, girlfriend, tree-hugger, pain in the ass, freak, blonde, closeted drinker of no-foam decaf lattes, and the list could go on and on and on), but in this context I’m referring to career and the job I hold to pay the bills and keep my little household afloat. Along those lines I’m a Legal and Information Technology professional, but am living in the body of a ____________________ (another blank). I’m not exactly sure what to put in that blank, but I’m really thinking hard these days on what it should be.
I’ve been intently following the collaborative efforts of Erin at Design for Mankind, Holly at decor8 and Marisa at Creative Thursday, three fantastic ladies each packing some major creative punch and offering a special series of posts on this very topic: figuring out what you should be doing, your calling, and forging a path to make it happen. Erin’s contribution is her fantastic Roadmaps, Holly's is the must-read What to Do When You Don't Know What to Do series and Marisa's Creative Thursday is chock full of her inspiring podcasts. [And by the way, Erin is now talking the talk and walking the walk, after leaving her day job last Friday in order to forge ahead with a full-time pursuit of her own creative path. With her whip-smart wit and equally sharp eye for all that is inspiring, I know some really great things are on her horizon.]
For as far back as my memories go, my inner voice has always pointed to Door #1, the one with the 'Creativity Lives Here' sign above it. I try to keep it perpetually open and cross the threshold at least once a day, but I've never been able to comfortably close it behind me, knowing I wouldn't have to step back into the hall anytime soon. At least for me, the hall has been the intricate balance of life, and maybe going in a different direction as being a parent and paying the bills and trying to find some balance were the immediate priorities. I know being behind that door is where I eventually want to be, but the route for getting there and what I want to do when I arrive is my problem (just a little problem, right?). I'm also a little (or a big) problem, as I have a pretty good knack for talking myself out of things before I even get started (my friend Susan would chime in here with her positive mantra of 'be what you're for, not what you're against').
Until I can walk through that door, I’m completely blessed to have a great job and earn a good living, to have a boss who's not only my employer but my friend, and at the end of the day the work I do really helps people who need it. This would be more than enough for a lot of people, so should I even be trying to fill the void of that something I feel is missing? Wouldn't it just be easier to be content and ignore those moments when I'm driving down the road at lunch and suddenly feel compelled to just keep driving? I suppose this is all part of whatever force it is that makes us different; that makes some of us see the surface of something, while others see what's underneath or potentially hiding inside.
I've worked really hard over the years to be where I am today, and honestly, I do have a huge fear of stepping backwards, but isn't taking one step forward and two steps back part of the process? And can't it just as easily be two steps forward and no steps back?
So what to do, Jude who's a _____________, what creative hat to wear (because I know creative in some capacity is my calling)? I love art in all its many mediums, and while I've painted and sold pieces in the past, it's been years since I've touched a brush or sat down with a canvas, so I don't know that I can really call myself an artist. I love interior and graphic and all types of design, but I'm not a designer. I love to write, but don't know that I can call myself a writer. Yet amazingly enough, this little blog allows me to share all three; my love of art and design and writing (plus accounts of bad hair days and basement emancipation thrown in for good measure). It's that door I step through each day to keep me connected with creativity, until that day comes when I'm not just connected, but immersed! I only wish I had more hours in the day to find, write and share more, but getting to the point of immersion is my challenge. Full steam ahead!
[images © Patina]
Labels: Random
Since the first of January and adoption of my anti-plastic stance (I'm still finding it incredibly difficult to maintain), I've allowed my shampoo supply to run out and have switched to the no-plastic container natural formula of J.R. Liggett's Original Bar Shampoo. I've given it a true yeoman's effort (honest!), but although I'm continuing to use conditioner as usual, my hair has continued to adopt the appearance of someone who's just stuck her finger in a light socket (and in a blonde moment left it there), and a girl can only take some many bad hair days in a row. I've read lots of good reviews about this stuff so I, too, want to talk about how great it is, but my hair just isn't cooperating! What's a Green Girl with fine, thin hair to do?!!
[image © W P]
Labels: Love the Planet, Random
So, you know I’ve been giving (or trying to give) stuff away recently here on the blog (pillows and a pendant lamp and much more to come from the lair that is the basement). Sure, I could make a buck or two selling things on craigslist or eBay (or a yard sale if I could just get motivated!), but I like the idea of posting things here and putting them up for grabs, for free, because, well, just because! There haven’t been any takers except for Jen who’s claimed a pair of and a single pillow (and she’s also getting the matching duvet cover, shams and euro shams to go with it because I’m so nice!), but fear not; since I’m on a roll with my basement duties what isn’t claimed will make its way out of there and into someone else’s home at some point.
While it wasn’t anything I’ve posted here, I gave away my yellow velvet sofa last week to my friend Eric. I know I shouldn't speak covetously about material things (oh, what the heck?!), but this sofa really was to die for! Tuxedo style, extremely comfortable, and at 8’ in length more than adequately able to support my 5’10” frame during moments of sloth. It had been a special order piece purchased from Storehouse when they were still in business which, along with the matching love seat, the buyer had canceled after production. I don’t know many people who can afford to order custom furniture and then, “Oops, sorry, never mind” it away, but their loss was my gain and the stately yellow sofa made its way into my living room.
I loved this sofa, truly I did, but it was a little too big for the space and every time I looked at it against the wall its shade of yellow always made me raise an eyebrow and purse my lips. Then I repainted and did a color wash treatment in the space, diametrically opposed to the direction I should have been going in order to complement the sofa, and my lip pursing only increased. Despite it being a really fabulous piece, it just didn’t work there, so I knew I’d need to search for something else.
I’ve since found the something else (well, maybe), and for a while there I had two sofas residing in the living room. I knew I had to bid adieu to the yellow elephant (as it affectionately became known), but it was a great piece, and what if I ever moved into another house, shouldn’t I keep it ‘just in case?’ My plan was to get it down into the basement, cover it up with sheets, and there it would be waiting whenever ‘just in case’ came around, but it really would have been a hassle to get it down there (and I absolutely, positively, didn't need to add yet one more piece of furniture to the mix already there!). Besides, it needed to be somewhere where it would be the center of deserving attention, instead of the odd man out.
Fast forward to a conversation Eric and I were having a few weeks ago during which he mentioned he needed a new sofa. I immediately chimed in about mine and he seemed interested, so I sent him a few pics and the dimensions, both of which increased his interest. There was a little piece of me that instantly regretted opening my mouth (what the hell am I doing, giving away my sofa?! let it go, Jude, let it go . . .), but I’d already thrown it out there and if I was going to give it to anyone, Eric was the perfect pic.
Fast forward yet again to this past Thursday night, when Eric made it over to retrieve the sofa. Alysha and I had actually gotten it out to the carport as I wasn’t going to be there when he came by. Just as expected, when I arrived home it was gone, but what was waiting for me was the nicest ever e-mail from Eric. He was so grateful it made me blush, and the sofa fit and worked perfectly in his space, such that I’ve told him it was all meant to be. It took a very roundabout way of getting to him, but the 'yellow elephant no more' has now found its proper home. Here’s a pic of it in his living room. Doesn't it look like he designed his room around it?!!
It felt really good to do something nice for someone I know, especially one as deserving and appreciative as Eric. If I'd sold it (or managed to somehow get it down to the basement and keep it), I wouldn't have been the recipient of his reaction, and it just simply wouldn't have been the same.
The other plus in this story (although it's causing me to carry some guilt around) is the little gift Eric left for me that night. I saw a box there on the carport when I arrived home, not really sure of what content to expect. When I went inside and opened it, there was this absolutely beautiful hummingbird's nest, carefully constructed of branches, pine needles and moss.
From the photography pieces of mine he's seen, Eric knows I've started to collect nests. This one presented itself the day before he was scheduled to head over to my house, as he was hacking down bushes in front of his house. He didn't realize it was there until it was too late, so despite the fact we both will carry the stigma of To Kill A Mockingbird Plus One for the rest of our lives (see the two eggs?), he carefully retrieved it and delivered it to me for my collection.
The Story of the Sofa and the Mockingbird. Who would have ever guessed one would ever fold into the other? I'm sorry Momma Mockingbird! Thank you for all your masterful work and please forgive me!!
[top image © Ari Moore]
Labels: Random
If you're missing some, it might be here at Unclaimed Baggage Center in Scottsboro, Alabama. Huh? Yeah, that's what I said, too.
My friend Eric, very nonchalantly as he presumed I was already in the know about this, mentioned he's taking a road trip there next weekend. A place where they sell the contents of all those bags and cargo never claimed at the airport (who doesn't claim their luggage, or do you just get off the plane and decide to really 'leave it all behind'?).
My curiosity is piqued, so maybe one of these days when my pockets are full and I've got at least six hours to kill for the round-trip travel, I'll make a road trip of my own (trying to decide along the way whether or not it's creepy to browse through someone's intentional or unintentional leftovers).
Labels: Good Stuff, Random
When I read this post yesterday on Marisa's Creative Thursday blog, a little light turned on in my head, slowly but surely illuminating all the cobwebs I've let accumulate in there. I know she wasn't talking about organizing a space in as much disarray as my basement, but the concept is the same and just knowing what a huge sense of accomplishment I'll feel whenever I get through everything, well that gives me a renewed sense of 'get-it-doneness.' I've been focusing on the onus of just how much there is down there, instead of keeping centered on how great it's going to feel when it's done. Like I've run a marathon, won the lottery and found the solution for global warming, all in the same day (okay, maybe not that great or important, but somewhere along those lines)! A basement emancipation party will definitely be in proper order.
So, in keeping with my purge of things no longer needed (two hours of basement duty tonight!), for one of you needing a little light of your own I'm gifting a white pendant lamp I'd ordered last year from Chiasso. I don't have a picture to post as they no longer sell it, but if you like these pendants from IKEA, the Chiasso lamp will suit your tastes nicely.
It's a little larger then these, and is an oblong shape with ruche-like folds. It's also brand-new, still in the box and ready for assembly by whomever wants to give it a proper home. E-mail me or leave a comment if you're interested. I, and my basement, thank you!
[images © Elle Moss and IKEA]
Labels: Random
I came across this great pic on Flickr and it reminded me of all the hours I used to spend on the piano when I was a child. My Mother had such hopes for both of her daughters to master this instrument, so the lessons started with my sister, and then me. I used to be pretty good (even learning Music Box Dancer when it was released in the late '70s and became such a hit; do you remember that?! On the rare instances I hear it now for some strange reason it makes me think of senior citizens in a cafeteria), but now I don't know if I'd even be able to manage a chord of Chopsticks. My sister didn't retain her skills, either, and I know for my Mother this was cause for great disappointment (sorry, Mom!).
I wonder when exactly it was, though, my skills became lost? Shouldn't playing a musical instrument be like riding a bike, and even if it's something you haven't done in a long time it just comes back to you? Or is it just me, and there's some congenital malfunction of my brain that only allows me to retain certain things? It's probably the latter, as having 'congenital malfunction' stamped on my forehead would certainly explain a lot! ☺
[image © Liquid Sky Arts]
Labels: Random
I've subscribed to Interview magazine for over twenty years (no, I'm not that old, I started subscribing in high school, although I do admit to letting my subscription lapse a time or two here and there). I receive a lot of publications each month, and it's still one of my favorites. In this month's edition, there's a really wonderful tribute to Heath Ledger, all from the heart, you shouldn't miss. Check it out here. 
[images © Interview]
Labels: Random
You know you've got a true friend when they design a custom hair vest (a modern take on the hair shirt) just for you, and thanks to my true friend, Gustavo, I now have my very own! There is a little story behind this, but suffice it to say its arrival in yesterday's mail put a smile upon my face. Merci, mon ami!
[image © The Fabulous Gustavo]
Labels: Random
Someone new . . . but still you (hey, that rhymes!).
This image is number VII in the 2004 Self Portrait Suspended series by the amazing Sam Taylor-Wood. To achieve the end result with these frames, she engaged the assistance of bondage expert Master Ropeknot (really!) to suspend herself with ropes from the ceiling of her studio, which were then later digitally removed. Each time I look at this it invokes a new response in my brain, but my first impression always remains there in the foreground; her lifting that right arm away from her face, straightening the left leg and her gracefully righting herself as if she's stepping out of a dream and walking towards something completely unfamiliar, no fear attached. Something new . . . but still true (I really am going somewhere with this . . .)
This is a partial shot of my closet, specifically the spot where blouses, skirts, suits and pants are supposed to hang, there on those pretty white lacquer hangers, most of which you see are now empty. I really did have a closet full (and then some) of clothes before I took everything out a couple of months ago so the custom closet system could be installed (until this was done I'd never had a walk-in, much less a custom, closet and while mine is pretty small, it really makes a huge difference in this tiny space), but I just can't bring myself to hang things back up. I want to walk out of that dream in which I'm suspended in mid air and move towards that something different: a new me (but still me) with a spectacularly better wardrobe! I don't want to be the person who wore those other clothes any more, but instead step into the raiment of the someone I should, or want, to be (and because I'm not exactly sure who that is, the instructions for accomplishing this are conveniently stitched upon the inside label of each garment!).
Realistically, I'm in no position to rebuild my wardrobe from scratch, but maybe a new outfit for each mile metaphorically walked in a new direction would be the perfect incentive. And to quote Mark Twain, "Clothes make the [wo]man. Naked people have little or no influence on society." So here's to filling my closet with as much influence as possible, and a new me (but still me)! ☺
[Self Portrait Suspended VII © Sam-Taylor Wood]
Labels: Random
I threw out a t-shirt today. This would normally not be worthy of mentioning, but it's one I'd had for many years. There was nothing particularly special about it, just a plain white Hanes that had continued to become softer (and thinner) after each washing. While it once was presentable enough to be worn in public and was perfect to wear under a jacket or alone with a pair of jeans, in the last couple of years it had mainly held the role of sleep shirt and being that layer between my skin and the sheets during episodes of tossing and turning, rare instances of deep sleep, or my escapes into the strange and unknown regions of my dreams.
Despite our history together (because don't some clothes, or lack thereof, play a major role in our memories?), it had really lost its resolve, and the threads had finally yielded to their age and broken from the stress, leaving a hole under the right arm which continued to grow in size. I knew last night was the end when Alysha came into my room and found me sitting up in bed, typing away on the laptop, only to quietly say, "'Um, Mom, do you know your boob is sticking
out?" I knew the hole was getting large enough for this to happen, and it actually already had a couple of times, but I'd just pulled it over to the right again and went about my business (usually just going to sleep). But when I stretched and yawned before getting out of bed this morning, I heard those fibers continuing their yield to old age and the hole expanded yet again, this time making it much too big to cover much of anything, including my boobs. So, there it went into the garbage can, my nighttime companion of so many years.
I didn’t have any specific attachment to this (after all, it’s just a t-shirt!), but why am I feeling guilty about throwing it away, and why did it take me so long to discard it, when it was past its prime a number of years ago? I have several pairs of pajamas, which could have easily been a proper replacement, more than one pretty nightgown I never seem to wear, or I could have simply taken up the habit of sleeping in the nude, but instead I was continually drawn to this threadbare frame of cotton. "Just get rid of it; throw it away!" It's a simple statement, but I guess I'm starting to have doubts about my ability to let some things go (even now I'm thinking about retrieving it from the garbage and how I could recycle it somehow!) and how my life might be different if I could. Why is something which should be so easy, sometimes not easy at all? Oh, to have that book with all the answers!
[image © Claudia Steinbrecher]
Labels: Random
The Tions (you know, the 'Shuns'), have come to stay with me for a while, traveling to my doorstep via positive osmosis and a little modern technology. I'm hoping they'll feel comfortable enough to make their visit long term (how often do you get to wish this about house guests?). I'm really trying to bond with Motiva, as I think if the two of us can form a lasting affection the other Tions will surely follow. It's been a little easier with Inspira, as we instantly clicked, and if we can maintain this friendship, well, the possibilities are endless!
To extend your own invitation to the Tions, visit them here.
[inspiration © Design for Mankind]
Labels: Random
With enough mousse and sculpting gel, you wouldn't even need the headband and could go au naturel! ☺
[image © Laura Noel]
Labels: Art, Photography, Random
I was a little frazzled on Friday, trying to get my desk cleaned off so I could take vacation this week with a clear conscious. I'm actually feeling a bit guilty about being off, as we’re short handed, super busy and it really isn’t the best time for me to be gone, but I really need the time to simply not go in to the office, to decompress and be able to go back in next Monday with a well-rested train of thought. So, guilty conscious aside (and only checking my BlackBerry 15 times today, instead of my usual gazillion, which is completely pathetic), I’ve enjoyed the first day of my non-travel mental health vacation, especially as it’s coinciding with the first full week of Spring.
The weather this past weekend was absolutely gorgeous, and it couldn’t have been better if I’d been able to submit a specific request to the Weather Gods. The kind of weather that makes you sigh from the extra endorphins buzzing about in the brain, as you wonder how, on days that are so perfect, there could be any troubles out there in the rest of the world. Today, though, it was cold again; temps down to the high 30s and low 40s, with even snow flurries off and on throughout the late morning and early afternoon. I planned to start on my Spring planting in the yard today, but it can wait until later in the week when it’s supposed to warm up again (because did I mention I'm on vacation and have the whole week? Yay!).
Alysha’s friend Megan flew in from New York yesterday afternoon and is spending a couple of days here with us. Another friend, Rachel, came by on Saturday, as she and Alysha went dress shopping so Rachel could find something to wear for her 21st birthday party yesterday. Twenty-one! I remember both of these girls when Alysha first met them in high school, and now they’re both growing into lovely young women (saying this makes me sound so old, doesn't it?!); Megan studying marketing at Berkeley College and Rachel working hard at Oxford College here in Georgia. I don’t get to see either of them on a regular basis so the random visits are nice.
But, getting to the main point (because rambling is just so easy to do!), you know basement clean-up is on my to-do list for this week and I'm in the mood to purge, pillow purge for right now. We have a ton of pillows from rooms of old and they need new homes! I can never seem to get it together for a yard sale, so I thought I'd try a virtual giveway instead. If you see anything here you like, let me know and I'll be happy to gift them to you, friends and strangers alike. That's free! No charge! Most of these come in pairs, and I can send you the dimensions and fabric specifics if you're interested, so let me know. C'mon, give a pillow a home!
[images © Run4istRun]
Labels: Random
What could be better than the first day of Spring? Yes, it's my favorite time of year and all the vibrant colors in these gorgeous illustrations by artist Catalina Estrada make me think about everything out there about to be in full bloom.
The top pic is actually a mirrored compact you can get here at Patina. Bring on the pollen! ☺
[images © Catalina Estrada]
Labels: Random
Some great pics here at Project Beauty, and worth the quick visit to see all of them.
I still need to come up with a name for my little Atlanta beautification photo project, and searching for something not already taken is how I stumbled upon this site. Maybe Project Beautiful? I think I need something making a more cryptic statement, so people will have to think!
[image © Vicky Ming]
Labels: Photography, Random
Yay! I’ve made it to my 100th blog post. Thank you! No, really, thank you! Please, please, no applause necessary. Goodness, you are too much! Thank you!
Seriously, I don’t know if in all that is the Blogosphere the 100th post on a personal blog is a proper milestone to acknowledge, but what the heck, a person can never have enough reasons to celebrate (or at least to pat themselves on the back). The little blog that thinks it can, Randomly Run4istRun hasn’t fallen into the abyss of the stale and neglected as I’ve stuck with it (and because I love to write I’m honoring my ‘Do More Things I Love’ resolution), and as long as I’m enjoying it you can count on as many random musings as I’m able to put forth into coherent sentences. I promise not to include too much whining (unless I can try and make it humorous) or negative stuff (because there's more than enough of that out there), and just stick to whatever experiences and good stuff I think are worth sharing.
So, to all of you who've stuck it out with me so far, my faithful readers, commenters (why aren't there more of you?!) and blurkers alike (I do check the site stats every now and then and it's kind of incredible to see who's making it to my little nook of the Internet, even those finding me after doing Google searches for ‘butt bleaching’ or ‘skin peeling off inside mouth;' I'm kind of regretting those posts!), thanks for your virtual visits. ☺ XO
[bottom image © sixhoursphotography]
Labels: Random
Please tell me I'm not the only one excited about the premier of the John Adams miniseries on HBO Sunday night?! I love Paul Giamatti (although I’m going to have to get used to him playing a staunch historical, rather than quirky, character), and Laura Linney? It doesn't matter what role she plays, you can count me in. Plus, I'm a sucker for historical romance, especially love in the days before e-mails and text messages and instant messaging, when the carefully crafted written word was so important. John and Abigail had one of those great loves, and I'm anxious to see how it will be portrayed on film.
I know a lot of people who vowed to cancel their HBO subscriptions when The Sopranos ended, but I have one of those cable packages for which just canceling HBO wouldn't really save me any money. I still watch it on occasion when a good movie I haven't seen comes on, and I am a fan of Big Love, but there hasn't been a new series yet which has really sucked me in. I did watch Tell Me You Love Me last year, and ended up feeling like a complete voyeur during each episode as the sex scenes were so . . . in your face (yet I still continued to watch!), and it definitely met its goal of being intense and provocative.
Let's see how John Adams' story fares here. I've no doubt it will be a great adaptation of David McCullough's novel and I, for one, can't wait!
[image © Home Box Office]
Labels: Random
Unfortunately, I'm still in the throes of my cold or flu or whatever unwelcome and unwanted little bug it is, so my words of random wanderings, nonsense, wisdom for the day will need to be saved for later. I really hate being sick. :(
[images © Jared Chapman and NaturesPixel Photography]
Labels: Random
I hope I've been an okay Mom. I’ve always tried to go by my ‘do the best you can with what you have and what you know’ philosophy (and sometimes that has meant not having or knowing much of anything), but I’d like to think I’ve done alright.
One parental area in which I confess to lacking miserably is in the ‘memory of moments’ department. Really, I used to have a mind like a steel trap and nothing escaped me; now I'm lucky if I remember my name (okay, it's not that bad, but sometimes it feels that way). On occasion I’ll hear other mothers talking about the development of their children (“He started walking on Tuesday, June 18th, 2002,” “She was 7 months, 4 days and 12 hours old when her first tooth came in,” etc., etc.). While I can be somewhat approximate, I couldn’t give you these details about Alysha’s development if my life depended upon it. Isn’t that horrible? I can tell you she walked and was toilet-trained very early (you never saw a little girl prouder of being able to use her pint-sized potty ☺), but exact specifics escape me. Should they find a spot for me in the Mommy Hall of Shame?
I also don’t remember how old she was when she made this little piece of art for me (isn’t it cute?). I came across it today as I was going through the memo holder I’ve toted with me from desk to desk over the years (part of a set for which it’s the only remaining piece). I vaguely remember her coming to work with me one day and constructing this, but the pink paper is the size of little note sheets my Mother used to keep by her telephone, so maybe she made this during one of the numerous times Grandma used to babysit? I should know this!
I suppose if having a poor memory of such moments is the worst of my parenting deficiencies (although it's probably not), I’m not completely shameful. She’s going to be twenty-one in about three months. Twenty-one! And I'm at an age when some of my friends either have toddlers or are just starting their families (I knew there was a good reason I had a child so young). A grown up girl who still gives great hugs and continues to call me ‘Mommy’ every now and then, even if I can't remember how old she was when that word first came out of her mouth . . . (shame, shame).
[images © Run4istRun]
Today was one of those days that somehow seem to step out of the calendar and squeeze in between regular time and a space outside the norm. It was still a Tuesday, and the date will always remain March 5th of 2008, but the labels Tuesday and March 5th didn’t seem to have any particular relevancy (does that make sense to anyone other than me?).
I attended the funeral for Phil’s father, Fred Henry, today in the little town of LaFayette. I’d only had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Henry on one occasion and just for a very brief moment, but if any of the tremendous character Phil possesses is due to his father (and even if it’s not), I know he was a truly great man who’ll be dearly missed. Phil is one of my former bosses and the senior partner of the firm where I worked for about 6½ years before following my other boss, Joe, into his journey of being a solo practitioner.
Debbie had e-mailed me yesterday to let me know he’d passed away over the weekend, and after reading her message my eyes started to water as I sat quietly at my desk until the wave of sadness passed (all the hormones really must be kicking in lately; that or I'm on the precipice of some kind of nervous breakdown!). I suppose I was reminded of the time when my own Mother passed away, and while her health, just like Mr. Henry's, had deteriorated to a point where I understood her death to be imminent, I really didn’t realize the extent of the empty space she would leave and just how that would feel. I know each of us will or have experienced that kind of loss differently, but when you’ve gone through it and someone you know is faced with the same, all you want to do is be there in whatever way you can.
And so, off I went this morning with Harvey at the wheel and Linda, Wendy, Debbie and Boo (a/k/a Shawnie, a/k/a Shawn) as part of our caravan on the trek out to LaFayette (Harvey later told me I'd been rehired for the day, probably for liability purposes in case something should have happened to all the intellectual property for which he'd assumed the responsibility of transporting!). We traveled through rain, dark skies and heavy traffic, then made our way into lighter passages and a change to blue skies and sunshine, more dark clouds and rain turning into country roadsides sprouting bunches of daffodils, very winding roads (poor Deb there in the third seat), past the little chocolate shop in downtown LaFayette which piqued Wendy’s sweet tooth, to our ultimate destination at the church. There'd been a spread of food laid out before we arrived, and while we missed the fried chicken still managed to get there in time for plenty of potato salad, pimento sandwiches, peach cobbler and pound cake (potato salad and pound cake for me; totally not low-cal but completely dee-lish).
You could feel the sense of community there in the basement of the church, from those who had rallied to prepare food and to fill the vases on each table with freshly cut daffodils, to all the family who'd traveled from near and far to be there, and then to everyone in between, all of us coming together to pay our final respects (Amy, this so reminded me of the gathering after the service for your Dad). It's in times like these where those 'six degrees of separation' always play a part, as you look around the room and think about where you might fit in, even though you may or may not have known the one who has passed.
It was a very nice service, and the eulogy gave those of us who didn't have the privilege of knowing Mr. Henry a chance to learn a little bit about who he was and how he lived his life. I had to smile as I listened and then pictured Phil as a young boy being roused on an early weekend morning to go hunting or fishing with his Dad and Brother (as opposed to heading off in a suit and tie in the hunt for that creature known as justice).
I was so glad I was able to be there today. I will never forget that when I was out in Bowdon (actually very similar to LaFayette although even smaller) for my Mother’s funeral, when I walked out of the funeral home Phil was there in the parking lot, the first person other than those in my family to arrive. Since Bowdon is a little bit of a hike from Atlanta I really didn’t expect any of my co-workers to attend, but there was Phil, and seeing him really did make me feel better. Joe, Marla, and Linda came as well, and their attendance meant just as much, but I’ll always remember Phil’s as being the first familiar face I saw that day.
The rain had stopped as we headed out on our way back to Atlanta, each of us (except for Harvey as he was driving, and he's a guy) saying 'Ohhh' as we passed the little girl picking flowers in the yard (what is it that made all us girls respond that way?!). As Wendy softly said, it really did feel as if we'd been driving all day, and as we pulled back in to the parking garage at 5:00 it's true the day had escaped us.
I made it home and the house still smells like smoke; not as bad as last night but the odor is definitely lingering, and I open as many windows as I can to let in the brisk air, the temperature of which is quickly starting to drop. I don't care that my teeth are starting to chatter, because except for the sound of birds talking to one another and the very faint hum of rush hour traffic, it is quiet in the last several hours of this 'day out of place,' and the breeze through the window is making the curtains move in such a way they seem to be speaking in a soft and comforting voice.
I send all good wishes out to Phil and his family, although I know Mr. Henry will never be too far away.
[images © Cloclo Scot]
Labels: Random
I don't know that I can post anything else tonight as it may be necessary for me to vacate the premises. It smells like a smoke pit in here (yuck)!
Alysha called me earlier today and asked if it had rained this morning. "No," I told her, "not that I noticed." Pregnant pause (these are never good) . . . "Well, the house smells like smoke," she tells me. I did start a little fire in the fireplace last night just to take off the slight chill in the air, and it's always typical for 'that smoky smell' to be present the next morning (if anyone knows how to avoid this in a traditional wood-burning fireplace, please share!), but not to the extent she'd need to call me about it. It's been extremely windy today, so thinking extra air might be coming down the chimney and out into the house (we don't have any fireplace doors as I've been holding off until I can afford to order a custom set), I told her to close the damper.
When I made it home tonight and opened the door, the smell inside was horrible. I looked in the fireplace and saw a thin trickle of smoke and a few glowing embers, which certainly couldn't have been helped by the damper being closed!
She called me a little while ago to confirm I'd noticed the smell (well, you kind of can't miss it) and to tell me her co-workers have been asking if she's been out in the woods (because she stinks; and now I'm going to stink too!), and swears she checked for any embers before closing the damper. I've opened windows (and of course the damper) and sure hope this makes its way out of the house without being absorbed by everything in it! Argh!
[image © Andrew Blackwell]
Labels: Random
It's a little late for me to dive into anything lengthy, so I'll just share some random images for interpretation as you wish (top one part of a polyptych by moi many, many years ago). Have a great week!
[images © Run4istRun, Kate Javens, At West End and Fereydoom Family]
Touché! Finally a little truth in advertising in which we can all believe . . .
[image © Sherman-Williams]
Labels: Random
And they really do! The perfect occasion finally arose for which I could use this right-on card from the Etsy store of CarolLeeDesigns' JunkMail Greetings. My sister had to ingest a dose of nuclear medicine today, in pill form, to kill her thyroid. She has not been in favor of doing this for quite some time, telling her doctor, "I'm actually quite fond of my thyroid, thank you," but today she swallowed the little pill (I guess it was little?) I hope is going to make her feel 100% better. So, to all my dear friends, family, and faceless blurkers out there, please keep my one and only sister in your thoughts and send lots of good vibes her way. Muchas gracias!!
[image © JunkMail Greetings]
Labels: Random
I am desperate for some new mascara, but absolutely positively haven't been able to find any that isn't packaged in plastic. Even those touted as being 'natural' and 'organic' come in a plastic tube with a plastic wand. Same story for cake mascara, too. What's a Green Girl who's not ready to give up her makeup to do?!!
[images © Sephora]
Labels: Love the Planet, Random
I ordered the book 'Against the Odds: Women Pioneers in the First Hundred Years of Photography' by Martin Sandler some time ago and last week it finally made its way to my door. If you’re someone with any level of appreciation for photography, it’s definitely one I’d recommend for purchase, or at least check-out at the local library if they have a copy (it's no longer in print so Alibris is probably your best bet). The cover image, 'Lady in the Water' was taken by photographer Toni Frisell at Weeki Wachee Springs, Florida in 1947 (I've actually been to Weeki Wachee but was a child at the time and honestly don't remember much of it other than the mermaids). It's amazing to me this image was taken sixty years ago, yet seems so timeless. I love how she's floating there with her hands grazing the water, seemingly so peacefully . . .
I’m sure documenting the full role women have played in the history of photography is somewhat incomplete, but this book brings much-deserved attention to female photographers who did, as well as those who didn’t, receive recognition for their work. I can only imagine what it was like for a woman living in America a hundred years ago to be toting around what was then incredibly bulky equipment. They really must have had a strong love for what they were doing, and that same adoration certainly must have compelled those following them into the early and mid-19th century.
Collecting photography is a fairly new endeavor for me, and while it hasn’t been intentional it’s just worked out that so far, the pieces I’ve acquired are the works of women artists, with many of the subjects being women. I think if I psychoanalyze myself (because isn’t that such fun!) I’d have to admit to living a little vicariously through ‘my girls.’ I am drawn to pieces which portray women who live in beauty, who reflect intelligently, who speak softly yet whose words are strong, who always have something to say but who also know silence is sometimes the best thing you can contribute to a conversation. I certainly admire these traits when I recognize them in others, so hope I possess at least one or two of them myself.
I’ve yet to touch on the rest of my art collection, in which women artists and subjects, including a few nudes, are also pretty prominent (hmmm; if I wasn’t so secure in being a hopeless hetero I might wonder if the work to which I’m drawn is trying to tell me something!).
These two charcoal drawings are by artist Elizabeth Moretz-Britt (unfortunately she doesn’t have a web site, and excuse all these incredibly poor photographs which do these pieces absolutely no justice and will definitely be replaced at some point):
It’s obvious her subjects are naked, but the pieces are imbued with such a soft subtlety the nudity is secondary to the pose.
Here’s an oil and wax on wood by Steve Webb (ditto for no web site):
and another piece on wood by Melissa Sims (no web site, either!):
Again, each of the females here are sans clothing, but, at least for me, the eye is drawn to everything other than the lack of external accoutrements. They each maintain a specific brand of composure and self-assurance and their nakedness is very matter of fact (and wholeheartedly support the concept of 'real women have curves!').
Playing the self-analyst once more, I admit to some more vicarious living through these works. We all have our issues and I am certainly no exception, but if there would be one thing I could change about myself (gee, where to start?) it would be reaching a place where self-inhibition had no home, much like I think it’s absent in the lives of these subjects. Sometimes, though, it's just so hard to change!
Women. What complex creatures we are, capable of fierce insight and even fiercer emotion regardless of whatever baggage we may continue to throw over our shoulders. So, as long as I'm able, I'll continue to keep 'the girls' around to always remind me to keep looking, and to always move forward. ☺
[images © Toni Frissell, Elizabeth Moretz-Britt, Steve Webb and Melissa Sims, respectively]
Labels: Art, Photography, Random
I really do love camellias. Before I left Snow Hill yesterday I cut a bunch of them with beautiful variegated pink and white blooms from my Grandmother's old garden (and they look especially nice in these little bottles made out of recycled windshield glass). I think I can safely point out the striking similarities between a camellia bush and a strong and independent woman. She thrives on care and attention, but even when she doesn't receive either she still continues to produce bloom after bloom after bloom. ☺
[image © Run4istRun]
Labels: Photography, Random
I spent most of my day out in Bowdon, visiting with my Aunt Ellie (shown here in front of the old home place with one of the many VW Bugs she owned over the years). Some of you know exactly where Bowdon is (especially Amy!), but for those of you with no such knowledge it’s a little town in West Georgia known as “The Friendly City” (population just under 2,000) about an hour and a quarter outside of Atlanta. This is the town in which my Mother and her siblings were raised, where the property known as ‘Snow Hill’ (named after my Great Uncle George) is located and where the house he built well over 100 years ago still continues to stand. It’s also the house my Aunt calls home, which I did as well during the countless summers I spent there with her (and where I met my friend, Amy, who grew up in Bowdon). I definitely consider myself a ‘city girl,’ but Bowdon and Snow Hill inhabit many of my ‘small town’ memories and are a huge part of my life.
In addition to paying an overdue visit to my Aunt, I went out there today with a specific purpose: to find the old garbage ditch about which I’ve written before (enter Green Girl on a mission), and take some pictures of whatever trash hasn’t been completely covered with nature's debris. My first photo op presented itself sooner than expected, though, as I had to stop and take a picture of these cable spools, doubling as oversized reward posters, because they help to put into perspective just how small Bowdon really is.
Only in a small community like this could someone specify ‘Bill Harvell’s old safe,’ and probably 99% of the passersby know who Bill Harvell is (including me!)? I don’t know the story about the ‘old safe’ (other than it was stolen), but I do have a vague memory of Bill Harvell, who ran a little grocery store there on College Street. When I’d visit in the summers I used to run in there every now and then to pick something up.
Traipsing through the woods probably wasn’t the best thing for me to be doing, but my Aunt and I headed out and made our way down to the ditch. I don’t know that she completely understood why I wanted to do this, but she has such a great love for the land I think I could have asked her to help me search the forest there for prehistoric poop and she would have happily accompanied me. Any time there’s any opportunity to walk in those woods, she is either the initiator of solo expeditions or a willing participant in any joint ventures.
It’s very overgrown so our trek involved a lot of working our way through branches and vines, but we managed to reach our destination. While I didn’t see the volume of objects I remember finding as a child, there’s still evidence of the garbage discarded many years ago: some plastic objects I can't identify, an old ironing board frame, bed springs, a Styrofoam cup and plastic water bottle (probably thrown away more recently than the other objects), in addition to an old mayonnaise jar. And, just as I remember from my other excursions into those woods, all the discarded objects, each lifeless and inanimate, just sit there with nature doing the best it can to continue flourishing around them.
As we were heading back towards the edge of the tree line, I spied two bright spots of cobalt blue out of the corner of my eye, which turned out to be old Milk of Magnesia bottles. Ellie told me the only person in the house who 'd ever used that was my Grandfather, and as he’d passed away in 1952 they must have been out there at least 50 years. 50 years! And still as solid and blue as they day they’d been purchased (now you know why I'm such a freak about recycling!). I dug them out of their resting spot and brought them back with me, hoping a good scrubbing and run through the dishwasher will bring them back to their former glory.
When we went back into the house and sat down in the front room I noticed a huge stack of photographs on the table. My Aunt has been ‘going through things’ (just like I need to do!) and this stack contained at least 100 letter-size prints my Aunt Charlsie had sent her, including this promo shot from the filming of ‘Close Encounters of the Third Kind’ in which she is shown next to Richard Dreyfuss, Melinda Dillon and Steven Spielberg. I’d never seen this or any of the other photos in the stack so it was an unexpected surprise to go through them. Most are promo shots from a movie Charlsie worked on probably back in the late ‘60’s (?). Ellie told me it was ‘Joseph and His Brothers,’ but I don’t see that title on her IMDB profile, nor that movie listed with a Dieterle as its director (Jen, maybe you can do some research for me?). Doesn’t the actor shown in these solo shots look like a young Omar Sharif? I hope to learn where and when the filming took place so I can confirm the details for these, but in the meantime I have a big job in scanning all of them.
We also went through several stacks of photos she has on the dining room table, which she’s pulled out of her old albums. Included was this shot of my Mother, one I’d never seen before and taken exactly three years (well, two years and 364 days) before I was born. I wonder if she had any inkling then I’d be making my way into the world? I already know the answer to that as she and others told me several times I was an ‘unexpected bundle of joy,’ but I sure wish I knew what she was thinking that day, there in her pretty suit with matching gloves and pocketbook (as she would have called her purse) and at that point in her life.
I also brought back these two pics of Ellie, just to help show some of the spirit possessed by this incredible little lady I call my Aunt. She is, of course, literally a ‘little’ lady, as she was born with hypochondroplastic dwarfism. Her physique, however, is the only small thing about her. She’s led an adventurous life, probably the most memorable time of which she'd tell you being when she served in the Peace Corps and lived in Iran. Every now and then she’ll say something in Farsi, which I think she does just to keep up her skill of the Persian language. While there are many facets to her personality, she really is the most selfless person I know. If there were any one person I could name who represents the concept of 'serving others,' it would have to be her. There’s so much I could write about all the memories I hold of my times with her and of Snow Hill, and one of these days I’ll get around to recording everything I can manage to pull out of my head.
We had a really good visit and I ended my trip to Bowdon with a stop at the city cemetery and my Mother’s place of rest. I always say “Hi, Mommy” when I’m pulling up to the family plot there, even though I always called her ‘Mom.’ I don’t know why I do this, other than it being comforting and taking me back to the time when ‘Mommy’ was the norm. I stayed for a little while then took off, stopping for a few minutes to talk to Jackie (yes, Amy, your Aunt Jackie!) who was there at the time doing her power-walking up and down each of the little driveways.
I’m not sure what it was, whether it was Jackie telling me about her own Mother (another great lady I’m privileged to know) who’s not in the best of health and who’s now requiring pretty much constant care, or the sight of the boarded up fireplaces at Snow Hill, signaling the physical decline of Ellie and her inability to continue lugging firewood in and out of the house, but as I drove away tears welled up in my eyes and I began to cry. I’m not someone you would characterize as ‘emotional,’ and while I can be moody (maybe an understatement!) it’s never to the point of tears. I wondered if my Mom was trying to tell me something, or if I’m just turning into nothing but a big bunch of hormones? I still get a little weepy thinking about it, how that wave of whatever it was came over me, that something I just can’t articulate. Whatever it is, the little town of Bowdon and the history it holds is part of its complex structure, and one I'm constantly trying to interpret . . .
[images © Run4istRun]
Labels: Mom, Photography, Random
The best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain.
-- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
No complaints here. We need it! Just wish I could stay curled up under the covers a little longer.
[image © Annette Mangseth]
Labels: Random
You know that feeling you experience the first time you slide your body into a bed made with really fine sheets (I hope all of you have had this 'ahhhh...' moment, and if you haven't, make a budget-friendly splurge for a set of sheets from Bed Bath and Beyond made from Modal fiber so you'll know exactly to what I'm referring!). There is no comparison between standard, run-of-the-mill sheets and those made in the highest of thread counts from the finest of fibers. They are the ultimate in luxury, and usually carry an equally luxurious price tag. But, they're so incredibly sooofffft and once you've experienced a night's sleep upon a set of them, there really is no turning back.
This is the same type of 'aha!' reaction I felt the first time I saw a really beautiful piece of letterpress stationery. Each piece is truly a work of art, so of course I was sucked right in. I also felt downright dirty after receiving the first order I'd ever placed from the fabulous Peggy Lo's Figments store, because I just couldn't stop fondling the letterpress business card she enclosed with my goodies. Hers are of a beautiful three-color design and I'm not sure what weight the cardstock is, but they are thick and command attention; the kind you keep just because they're so impressive. If I am ever fortunate enough to have my own business (doing what, I don't know!), the first line item in the budget will be for a box of letterpress cards. Like luxurious sheets, they are not cheap, but as the old adage goes . . . you never get a second chance to make a first impression.
Peggy has several letterpress products on her site and offers full letterpress design services as well. There are other sources out there too, including numerous letterpress sellers on Etsy, Lynn Russell of Satsuma Press being amongst them.
Lynn works out of the garage her husband converted into her studio, and handles every little detail along the way. I think it's pretty special to know someone is using their hands solely to create something for you, instead of being mass manufactured in some far off land. I very much like how she describes what she does:
I don’t know which direction Satsuma Press will take me, but I like that I have found such a simple, straight-forward way to bring a little bit of beauty in to people’s lives. I like that Satsuma Press is just me, that from start to finish I am fully involved. All things considered, any way I look at it, my work is a joy.
And how many of us are fortunate enough to be able to include 'joy' and 'my work' in the same sentence? Here's hoping a little 'letterpress love' will work its way into your life . . .
[images © Figments and Lynn Russell]
Labels: Art, Good Stuff, Random
Targeted to anti-plastic zealots like me are these less than euphemistic (but super cute) bags from Angry Little Girls! by Lela Lee. They're a a new 'Go Green!' item on the Patina Stores web site. I do like the strong statement they make, but I usually try, if at all possible, not to call strangers b*itches (because my Mother would be horrified!). Maybe (but then again, maybe not) this one would be better suited for general toting around and tree-hugging recruiting purposes?
What I really like about Patina, in addition to the eclectic range of items they carry, is the fact they give you an option during checkout for the type of packaging you want used for your shipment. Mine is always 'Earth friendly, ok to ship my merchandise with recycled box and materials,' because really, why wouldn't it be? ☺
P.S. They also have the perfect file folders for my basement-sorting project needs!
[images © Patina]
Labels: Love the Planet, Random
I’m mentally organized (most of the time), but sometimes physical organization, at least at home, is a challenge for me. I will never admit to being a hoarder (isn't that the first sign of a problem, when you can't own up to having one?), but I tend to make stacks of things to look at later, to which more stuff is added, and then more stuff, and, well, you get the picture. There are several boxes down in the basement filled with my ‘stuff to look at later’ and obviously (pathetically!) later has come and gone. If I haven’t looked at ‘the stuff’ in months, or years, then it’s not anything I even need, which is purely common sense speaking loud and clear. I need to hold a big bonfire party, and invite friends over to consume martinis specially flavored for the occasion and to help me purge (or at least call a shredding company to come by for environmentally responsible curbside shredding ☺), but I still feel pretty strongly about first needing to do a review and sort. Who knows what I’ve been missing, that I don’t know I’ve been missing? Plus, amongst those stacks are my decorating bibles of Elle Decor, Metropolitan Home, Metropolis, House & Garden (now extinct), Blueprint (also recently extinct), Dwell, Country Home and Country Living (don't let the 'country' part fool you), Garden Design, Domino, O at Home (and I know at least one or two others I've missed), which house hundreds of pages I’ve yet to turn into inspiration tear sheets.
I’m a big proponent of scanning stuff (except absolutely positively not personal correspondence or cards which should be kept in a beautiful box worthy of the contents, but of course I have no such beautiful box!), but for things I do need to keep I found these fun and fab file folders from International Arrivals. They come in so many different styles it's hard to choose, but I’m starting with one package of the Emma and Helena styles shown above to add some welcome brightness to an otherwise dreary filing cabinet.
I’m also a big scribbler when I’m stuck in a waiting area and am reading magazines to kill some time. If I see a mention of something I want to look up later, I usually pull out a receipt I’ve stuck in my wallet and write on the back of it, making a note of the web site, name, or whatever info I'll need to find it later (just as I did when I found these file folders). I’ve had this beautiful 'i love . . .' Platinum Notebook from Nantaka Joy for months now, but since its arrival it's been quietly occupying the darkness of one of my nightstand drawers, feeling completely underappreciated as I’ve thought it too pretty to use! I know that’s ridiculous (and probably neurotic), and it’s not doing me any good just sitting there, so I’ve finally come to my senses, taken it out of the drawer and deposited it into my purse, pledging to use it for whatever little note-taking tasks may arise.
These are small steps towards the big goal, but at least they’re very pretty small steps, and every one counts, right?
[images © International Arrivals and Nantaka Joy]
Labels: Good Stuff, Random
I finally pulled my camera out today to play around with taking some still lifes. Nursing of the hip continues (think I overdid it yesterday) so non-strenous activity seemed to be in order for an overcast and now rainy Sunday afternoon. Plus, the camellias in my backyard are blooming like crazy (despite the drought we experienced last year) and I couldn't resist cutting a bunch of them to add little vignettes of color throughout the house. I've decided that on my 'Things I Love' list, gardening should be somewhere up towards the top, and the pursuit of creating of a backyard retreat needs to be something I try and work on this year. Unfortunately, digging holes for plants, pruning, fertilizing, etc., all that fun stuff, requires a lot of bending. I hate having to hire someone to do chores of which I'm perfectly capable (or used to be perfectly capable), but other parts of the yard have had some professional help and there's probably no reason not to do the same with the back.
Are there still professional gardeners around? When I think of a 'gardener' books and movies in which an affluent family has a full-time gardener on staff always come to mind, with them living in the little apartment above the 'carriage house.' I could hardly afford to have a full-time anything around here, but wish I could find someone with a love and knowledge of plants and horticulture to come maybe once a month, to see the existing landscape, have a vision about it and slowly but surely make it a reality. I know that's what landscapers are for, and it is nice to come home one day and it's just done, but having a gardener sounds and feels much more glamorous, doesn't it? Plus, what if he's extra cute and I could have stories to tell about my fling with the gardener? 
This Cymbidium orchid is also in bloom, and I liked this shot with the focus on it and 'The Wall' I've mentioned before in the background. Yes, all my Molly Jey paper sculptures and lovingly-framed Raydel Shanks prints are finally nestled into their spots within the overlapping squares. I'll be taking some better pics of this to share (it's turned out really nice), but right now I have two sofas in there (argh!) so getting a proper shot of the whole thing without including the superfluous stuff soon (hopefully) to be gone is a bit tricky.
Speaking of Molly Jey, I sent some pictures to her earlier today and she let me know her work is going to be sold out of a shop in Ohio and also at Moss in Savannah. This is huge and I'm so happy for her. She was featured on Holly Becker's decor8 a couple of weeks ago and as the volume of Holly's readership is incredible and her blog is the launching pad to great things for so many, I know Molly is going to be one busy lady! I'm so glad she was able to create all those sculptures for me just before she hits it big (Jen, take care of that frog! It's a Molly Jey original!).
How better could I start my week than with fresh flowers filling the house and a beloved artist wearing the smile of success? The only thing to put the icing on the cake would be a gardener living over the garage (even though I only have a carport). ☺
[image © Run4istRun]
Labels: Photography, Random
I’m feeling a little guilty about something. No, it’s nothing worthy enough of confession upon a postcard and submission to PostSecret, but because I’ve been looking at the evidence of my wrongdoing on a daily basis, it’s been nagging at my conscious.
When I send out cards or personal correspondence, I like to use stamps that are pretty. It’s just one of my things; a little finishing detail I appreciate when I’m on the receiving end, so I try and make sure I always add that extra aesthetic if at all possible. Nothing against the generic ones with our nation’s flag, but they’re, well, pretty boring. They do the job, and pay for the postal service to get the mail where it needs to go (most of the time), but the presentation is more than a little lackluster.
When I sent out New Year’s cards this year, I bought five books of the Pollination series stamps designed by artist Steve Buchanan and released by the Post Office this past summer. They added the right splash of color to the envelopes, and a hint of Spring to mail being dispatched in January. The source of my guilt, what I also did, was to buy one extra book so I wouldn’t have to use any of the stamps in this series depicting a bat.
I don’t know anything about bats except the dearth of misinformation to which I’ve been exposed over the years in the movies (Dracula, Batman), or television (although the Congress Avenue Bridge in Austin, Texas was featured during the Sundance Channel’s Iconoclasts series featuring Fiona Apple and Quentin Tarantino, and apparently people flock to see the bats which arrive there every year). I’ve always thought of them as scary little creatures, so my immediate thought was, “Who wants a bat on their stamp?” Thus, all the unused bat stamps are now sitting on my desk at work right above my keyboard, peeking up at me numerous times each day. They keep saying to me, “Look at us, pollinating away. We work just as hard as the birds, bees, and butterflies at this job and we didn’t deserve to be demoted from envelope duty on your New Year’s cards. Really, Jude, this would be like us not wanting to use your picture on our Halloween cards because you have blonde hair and blue eyes!”
It’s true you learn something new every day, as I really had no idea bats pollinated flowers. Honestly, who knew? So, I’ve been shamed into a new respect and appreciation of the bat. I don’t know if I’ll ever see one in person, but if I do instead of the instant association with Count Dracula and the Bat Cave, I’ll be thinking about them flying around with a purpose not involving the heebie jeebies. And Jude said unto the Bat, “Go forth and pollinate.”
P.S. When I was roaming about on the USPS Web Site, I saw their page for the upcoming HBO Miniseries about John Adams. I loved Irving Stone’s book, “Those Who Love,” so am really looking forward to seeing this. I bet John would have used a bat stamp if he’d been sending a letter to Abigail!
[image © USPS]
Labels: Random
Hope yours is sealed with a kiss, and a hug, and lots of love.
I miss you, Alysha! ☺
[image © Stacey Winters]
Labels: Random
This is what my dislocated hip looked like on Friday, very much undone as you can see (you wouldn’t know it by me exposing my innards all over the Internet that I’m neurotically and hopelessly modest, but I really am!). Four days later I'm doing great; back to work yesterday, walking slow but sure, carefully navigating the stairs one at a time as any good geriatric citizen would do, trying to get back to where I was before this little setback and exercising as much caution as possible during the process without coming to a screeching halt.
I guess there's a reason why hip replacement is usually reserved for a person of more advanced years than I. I've still got too much living to do, and need my hips to do it (not to say that older people don’t still have lots of life)! I don't regret my decision to go ahead with this surgery last year, but I guess with Friday's episode I'm finally starting to mourn the loss of my old dysplastic friend. Yes, the old hip had its problems, but don't we all?
There is so much associated with a woman's hips, including them being the source of her swagger and the symbols of her fertility and sexuality (all the stuff of which legends are made!). If you lose one (or both) of them, does it also mean losing those aspects of your femininity along with whatever piece of you is removed? I know I'm being overly philosophical here (what the heck, allow me some latitude for my mental wanderings), and it's not like we walk around with our hips outside of, instead of underneath, our skin, so that anyone in passing knows you've got an implant or two (other under-the-skin implants are a little more obvious). It’s also not as if I’m in, or even want to be in, my prime childbearing years, and I’m certainly not missing out on any lucrative contracts with Playboy, but still . . . am I silently screaming ‘fake hip, forget babies, and forget the trapeze in the bedroom’ whenever I walk into a room? I've no doubt there are plenty of women out there who've gone through replacement surgery and are still incredibly sexy and have given birth to one or more children. I guess I'm just being splashed with that 'too young to be old' feeling and am letting it get the best of me [insert dramatic violin arrangement here].
I talked to Sue Snouse today, my orthopaedic surgeon's fantastic Physician’s Assistant, and asked her about these five things:
1) Can I ever expect my hip to dislocate again, just when I'm walking?
This is a big paranoia for me now, that I'll be walking down the street going about my business and POP! I’ll have a ‘Sandra Bullock as Agent Gracie Hart Moment’ and in a less than elegant fashion will fall flat on my face. Sue told me she'd never heard of this happening, so I'll try to cross this one concern off the list.
2) Can I sleep on my left side?
I'm definitely a side sleeper, and I can't tell you how good it felt after my surgery to finally be able to once again curl up on my left side. She told me it should be okay, but to listen to my body on this. I'm still kind of afraid to try it just yet, but I swear the more I lay on my back the flatter I feel my butt become. It's slowly deflating into something as flat as a pancake!
3) Bending
There are certain bending techniques I'll have to follow for the rest of my life, it’s just a given, but since Friday the fearlessness I’d acquired for going about my life as usual, including all the bending I do on a daily basis, has pretty much evaporated. Since then I've been perfecting my new style of 'golf bending' as Sue called it. I lunge with my right leg and let my left leg stay extended behind me, of course with my left foot turned outwards. I know I must look utterly ridiculous when I’m doing this and so far I've been lucky enough to be alone when I’ve had to maneuver it, but I know my luck will eventually run out. Should I just look up and smile when someone has to witness this, as if it’s the most perfectly normal thing in the world, or I’m simply practicing my pliés for ballet class?
4) Abduction Exercises
When I went through physical therapy last year, my therapist had me do these clamshell type abduction exercises with a pillow between my legs (I really hope there's no hidden cameras in my house!). I think they really helped and I've tried it a couple of times since Friday, but it just doesn't feel right. This is another one of those 'listen to your body' deals, and it's telling me to proceed with caution (but keep trying to fight the 'butt as flat as a pancake' phenomena).
5) Wearing Heels
I've been wearing my running shoes (which of course I can't use for running any more) along with my work clothes and the combination is, well . . .of course I constantly look like I'm out for a walk on my lunch hour. Sue asked me how high my heels were, and while I don't own any of stiletto proportions, I had returned to wearing my maximum of 3" heels (which my surgeon had seen me wearing and told me if I could get away with it, go forth and walk tall!). Unfortunately, I don't have anything in-between so I’m kind of stuck. If I go out and buy a pair of Aerosoles, will I be succumbing to the inevitable?
Okay, I'm done waxing poetic; thanks for listening. It's not like I can go back to my surgeon and say, "You know, this really isn't working out for me. Can I just have my old hip back? It hasn't been incinerated yet, has it?" This is it, for the rest of my life this is it, and I really am thankful that in the big scheme of things this is just a minor bump in the road. I know I'll get back in the saddle (well, maybe not literally) soon, and this will all be humor for my golden years (which I refuse to embrace prematurely!). All I can say is be good to your hips, girls. Be good to your hips!
Labels: Random
Jen posted an entry on her blog today about the death of actor Roy Scheider. Of course he is best known for his portrayal as Chief Martin Brody in the movie Jaws, probably an all-time action favorite of anyone who's ever seen it (although I was terrified for weeks after watching this that a shark was living under my bed; only further compounded by hearing a scratching noise one night and waking up to see a hand in the air above me, which I learned years later belonged to my sister, who was trying to sneak back into our apartment after an unauthorized departure!). His body of work included countless more films and television appearances, and the acting world has definitely suffered a loss with his passing.
This got me thinking about my Aunt Charlsie, (pictured above sometime in the '40's, wearing her hair in her signature bun while hard at work on a movie set, but on which one I'm not sure), who for years worked at Columbia Pictures and also happened to be the Script Supervisor on Jaws, putting her together with Scheider, Robert Shaw, Richard Dreyfuss and Steven Spielberg. In her tenure in film she worked with such icons as Elvis, John Wayne, William Holden, Robert Redford, Jane Fonda, (and the list goes on). She was working on the film 1941 with John Belushi when she died. I'm not sure how far into filming they were when she passed away, but after the screen credits roll the final shot, "For Charlsie Bryant," dedicates the movie to her.
I don't think we have any famous people in my family (except for Stonewall Jackson, for you Civil War history buffs), and Charlsie wasn't a bona-fide celebrity, but in my childhood awe she certainly seemed like one to me. She would call my Mom from California and I would always be excited to hear her voice. "Mom!" I'd yell. "It's Aunt Charlsie!" She worked in the movies! And she lived in Hollywood! Plus, and most importantly, she was always so sweet to me, and made sure we had a good conversation before I handed the phone off to my Mom.
Here she is in December of 1945, making her glamorous departure from the plane after landing at the then Municipal Airport in Atlanta.
I had just turned 11 when she died, so I don't have the memories of her I would have accumulated if she'd been with us longer, but I hope she and Roy get to see each other again wherever they are, share a good toast, and look out for all us keeping them in our thoughts.
Labels: Random
Well, I’m no longer worried about zapping freckles off my face, not when in all likelihood I’ll need to spend the rest of my life wearing one of those medical alert necklaces usually reserved for the senior citizen population (you know the ones with the button for calling the I’ve Fallen and I Can’t Get Up! Call Center). This fashion accessory kind of spoils the point of maintaining a youthful glow, but maybe I could cover it with Swarovski crystals like people do with their cell phones?
Yesterday was a drama-filled day, and one I hope I won’t be repeating any time soon (please, please, cross your fingers for me!). I was getting ready for work in my customary manner, fresh out of the shower and donned in my robe as I moved on to the side task of getting together the elfa stacking baskets I needed to leave outside for the craigslist buyer (yep, instead of stashing this stuff in the basement as is my habit, I posted a listing on craigslist and they sold!). I started to bend down to pick up one of the baskets and then SNAP! I heard my new hip pop and down I went, onto my knees (or knee rather as my left leg was kind of dangling), grabbing on to the big basket rack to support me.
As luck would have it, I was home alone as Alysha had left the night before for her trip to Florida and is set to be gone for almost two weeks. I wasn’t expecting any visitors, so no one would miss me any time soon. I thought about screaming, but didn’t think anyone would have heard me. I knew the only thing for me to do was to reach the nightstand where my cell phone was, but even though it was only about ten feet away, it may as well have been ten miles.
I have a pretty high threshold for pain, confirmed by me going through a completely natural childbirth when Alysha was born, but this was the most excruciating pain I’ve ever experienced. What is it that makes a dislocated joint hurt so bad?
My first hurdle was getting the basket shelf out of the way. It’s about 7’ tall so I had to maneuver it before I could knock it over and slide it out of the way. It took me about an hour to deal with this, working on it a little bit before I’d need to stop and get my leg in the least painful position, then working on it some more. I was cold, but sweating at the same time. There are three mirrors on the wall right inside my bedroom where I was kneeling on the floor. I kept popping my head up and looking at my reflection, thinking “Yeah, you’ve really done it now. How are you going to get out of this?” I finally knocked the basket shelf over and slid it over as far as I could, then managed to get onto my back. I thought crawling on my elbows would be easy from that point out, but I could still only muster up the wherewithal to move a few inches at a time.
It’s pretty amazing the things a person can think about when they’re lying on the floor in excruciating pain, which lingered throughout the three hours it took me to finally make my way to the nightstand. Even stupid things like, “I really need to wash these floorboards,” or “Maybe I can make it to the bathroom and throw on a little mascara and lipstick before my rescuers arrive.” (Hey, you never know). I reassured myself that people don’t die from dislocated hips, that I’d be fine if I could just get to the phone (if I could just get to the phone!).
I finally made it to the nightstand and was able to reach up and grab my phone, but all my crawling machinations had essentially worked my robe into a rolled bundle underneath me. Now I'm sure EMTs are called out to help naked people, or others in compromising positions, all the time, but I really didn’t want my rescue situation to be similar (plus my legs needed to be shaved, and I'm due for waxing!). So, I gritted my teeth as I pulled up the robe and wrapped it back around me as best as I could.
The first call I made was to my boss, so he’d know why two hours into the workday I still hadn’t shown up. I then called 911 (only to be put on hold, then when an operator came on and I explained my situation, because I don’t live within the city limits I was transferred to the County operator, but I really shouldn't complain as the ambulance seemed to be dispatched pretty darned fast). My neighbor Jene, who has a spare key to my house, was next, but she didn’t answer, so I called my other neighbor Kerry who immediately asked me if I was okay as the ambulance and fire trucks had already pulled up in front of my house. I asked him if both of Jene’s cars were in her driveway (usually a solid indicator that she’s home) and he said they were, and he’d get her to bring the key over. I really am blessed to have the world’s best neighbors, and am so grateful they were both home yesterday.
No more then a minute later I heard the door open and a male voice calling my name. “Judy, Judy where are you?” “I’m back here,” I yelled. “Are you dressed?” he asked. “Well, kind of," I said, "but it’s okay.” Then not one, not two, not three, but seven men in blue uniforms and very handsome faces proceeded to file into my bedroom (why did it take a dislocated hip for this?!) My neighbor Peggy popped in, too, to see if there was anything she could do, then my neighbor Jene came and just looked at me and shook her head. “I’m sorry my house is a mess.” I told all of them (and it was, as my contractor had been doing more work here and had just finished up this week, but in the interim I’d just kind of let things go, with the plan for heavy-duty cleaning this weekend). Anyway, despite my semi-nakedness and the state of disarray with the house, help had arrived! I'd been saved!
The next hard part was getting me on to a stretcher. They had to slide these two metal things under me, which they’d use to lift me up. One of the EMTs, Brett, who was the first one to enter my room, held my hand and I squeezed his during this process and they managed to wheel me out of the house and load me into the ambulance. It felt like we rolled over every single bump in the driveway as I was jostled about and winced in pain, but I was finally off the floor and in an ambulance (my first ambulance ride ever!) and headed to the hospital. As an aside, all the rescue personnel (my knights in blue uniforms) were great, and thank you notes are definitely properly due and in line for dispatch.
To make an already long story short, x-rays confirmed the hip was out of socket, so the only other issue was how best to get it back in place. My orthopaedic surgeon was leaving town for vacation that day, so his partner who was handling rounds came to see me and explained his plan for moving me around and popping it back in. They gave me some kind of wonder drug that made me completely loopy (I swear, the whole time I was in this dreamy haze I thought I was looking at and talking to the resident who’d come in to the room before they knocked me out) but didn’t completely put me under. All I remember next is hearing the doctor tell me it was done, and then I could move my leg without wanting to cry. Humpty Dumpty was back together again! I asked if I could buy some scrubs to wear home (since I was still essentially naked) and a fresh pair plus some of those super stylish disposable shoe covers were bestowed upon me.
I could have stayed in the hospital last night, but I wanted to get home. After they discharged me, I was sitting in a wheelchair by the nurse’s station at the walk-in emergency entrance, where I could hear one nurse talking about people who had been waiting there for over seven hours. I felt bad (but also thankful), as my entire experience that day, from the time we pulled away from my house in the ambulance to the moment I made it home, was less than eight hours.
I’m extremely sore today, am limping a little bit, and have rug burns on the backs of my elbows from all my crawling, but I can walk! The little things we take for granted . . .
Labels: Random
Ah, the things we do in the name and for the sake of beauty. I wish I could embrace the physical aspects of getting older with the same open arms I extend for the insight it brings . . . you know the old adage about wisdom coming with age (although, let’s face it, for some people it just never happens). Like my Ann Taintor fridge magnet declares: “Honey, you couldn’t pay me to be twenty!” I think I’ve always been a reasonably intelligent person (capable at times of doing very stupid things, but intelligent nonetheless) but I don’t know how insightful I really was at that time in my life. I feel like I’m getting there now (until senility and/or dementia sets in), but it’s sure been a long time coming.
I would, however, if I had the chance to go back and scoop up anything from my youth, bring back the skin I had before that time in high school I went to the beach the Friday before Spring Break and, (here’s one of those stupid things), because it was overcast and I didn’t think I’d need it, neglected to apply sunscreen. I lay on my stomach and proceeded to burn to a crisp. I was horribly sunburned the next day, and later learned I had second-degree burns. It was dreadful, and needless to say I spent my entire Spring Break doing nothing but being extremely uncomfortable. The experience left me with a very freckled back, and lots more of them on the backs of my legs, although those have faded a good bit over the years.
Fast-forward twenty years later and even without the scourge of the sun (and despite daily application of a good SPF moisturizer before applying any makeup), a little freckle here and there (or an age spot, really) spontaneously appears on my face. No one but me is going to notice, but I kid you not, it wasn’t there the day before! When I went in to the dermatologist a couple of months ago I mentioned this to her and jokingly asked, “But you can just zap it off, right?” She was seriousness personified when she smiled at me and said, “Sure, we’ll just give you an IPL treatment.” I don’t keep up with all the latest trends in skin care (but I probably should) and I’d never heard of this, but two treatments later and I’m hooked!
There are different types of “IPL Therapy (Intense Pulsed Light),” but my blend of choice is for freckles, age spots and skin discolorations. I had my second treatment this morning and when the assistant came in, she asked if I was doing my whole face. Huh? Do people really zap their entire face (and did she think I needed to zap my entire face)? Of course they do (and no, she didn’t)! I wasn’t so brave (I had to sign a release before my first treatment, which was a little disconcerting), but I did give the doctor free reign to zap wherever she wanted. An ice pack here, a zap there, and a few minutes and two rosy cheeks later I was done.
It feels like a tiny little pinprick with a teensy bit of heat and lasts for maybe half a second. The light pulse targets the melanin and does its damage, eventually making it disappear. It takes about a week before any treated spots completely go away, and during the process they become darker, looking more like a freckle than they did originally (go figure), and eventually just falling off. It’s really pretty amazing, and if they ever make a full-body IPL machine where I can be scanned all over, zapped, and afterwards go back to the “Pre-Terrible Sunburn That Ruined My Spring Break” skin, I’ll be the first to line up (don't you wish all of life's little inconveniences could be so easily erased?!). I know, I know, freckles and age spots and wrinkles and all that other stuff give us character . . . but can’t I just have the individually wrapped character package and leave the others on the shelf?
Labels: Random
I have been craving Cóm, a Vietnamese restaurant close to my house (their food is so fresh and dee-lish), since the first of the year. I've really been going through 'Bun
