Category Archives: Look!
One picture a day.
How are you spending your holiday? I went to the annual Takoma Park Fourth of July parade this morning—you just never know what you’re going to see there. Today’s highlights were the Basset Hound Brigade, the two steel pan bands, and the Mayor of Takoma Park walking with a handmade sign. I took mostly video, but here are some pix of the parade’s cutest participants!
Paris Mon Amour. An abecedary of Paris photos by Marc Olivier. . . the Eiffel Tower as an “I” is obvious (but still gorgeous), and I’m particularly taken with the stack of chairs in the Luxembourg Gardens for “L” and the graffitied artist at his easel representing the letter “A.” (via Black*Eiffel)
Collect call? I love this sweet photo (from AliceBGarden’s Etsy shop) of vintage pots and planters waiting to go to a loving home. (It’s a nice counterpoint to one of my other favorite “collections” photos by the uber-talented Gregory Krum.) Alice’s shop is full of lovely nostalgic-without-being-treacly photos, including lots of lovely teacups. Swoon. (via Creature Comforts)
Bead it. I love this simple, colorful necklace from a small collection. . .just the thing to brighten up an all-black–or otherwise monochromatic–outfit this summer. I’m just saying . . . (via even*cleveland)
She sells seashells by the seashore. Okay, well, she actually sells them online, and what gorgeous seashells they are. I’m pretty much in love with everything in Hannah Blount’s shop—uhm, weren’t YOU supposed to get me those button facet posts for my birthday or something—and I’m adding these to the (very long) list. (via Hannah Blount)
Can fish be jolie laide?
Synneve: Why are you taking a picture of this window?
Me: Cause it’s cool.
Synneve: (unconvinced) Oh.
Uhm Synneve, did I mention that I take pictures of everything these days?
At the opening for the new Hot Shots show at Jen Bekman gallery: “I know, I google-stalked you.”
View from Taxi #1
View from Taxi, #2
I think they’re missing the point . . .
Dans le vitrine (which I hope means “in the window”)
Here kitty kitty . . .
Whatchu looking at?
Beautiful ladies (who made me smile when I stopped to chat with them and buy a photograph—from the lady on the left—while strolling down Fifth Avenue, around the 40s . . )
“Self Portrait with art and Chinese print scarf” (Living Room, Sligo Avenue, Silver Spring, Maryland)
I really like my outfit today. The sweater and the scarf are both thrifted. (maybe the striped top too, but I don’t remember for sure.) I love mixing basic stripes with a patterened scarf; it always makes me feel trop Francais. Turquoise is a color I’ve fallen in love with in the past couple of years, which is a good thing since Pantone has anointed it THE color of Twenty-Dime. Please note that I’m also wearing my red lipstick from Shu Uemura (RD 174S), which I’ve been wearing nonstop lately. I think I may need to step up to an even more matte red, though in the past whenever I tried to rock MAC’s Russian Red, it always felt like too much. I’ve been getting a lot of compliments on my hair, btw, which is kind of astonishing because my internal stylist is all, “Uhm, can you please take up a collection or something so you can go get your hairs cut? For realz!”
“1 + 1” (Bedroom, Sligo Avenue, Silver Spring, Maryland)
Here’s my Dylan Fareed letterpress print from 20×200.com in a frame I bought at the Grace Episcopal thrift store yesterday for $1.00. I like how the baroque frame both contrasts with and complements the unadorned but rounded font of the text. You can’t tell from this picture, but the frame is gilded wood, which makes me think of the actual wooden blocks used for handprinting. I was fortunate enough to speak with Dylan on Friday (for work), and I learned that his art practice is primarily about collaboration. So not only is it quite rare to have a piece for which he is both artist and printer, but the sentiment speaks very much to who he is as an artist (though, I think it was actually inspired by a love affair). It’s also a good reminder to me that sometimes I need to ask for help and stop going it alone all the time. Practice makes perfect (or something close), right?
“Lady Things” (Sligo Avenue, Silver Spring, Maryland)
I found the yellow-and-white butterfly among my Grandmother Rosie’s things after she died. The pink-and-white brooch was a gift from my friend Gian-Claudia. When we were in high school, she would wear her mother’s vintage brooches on her skirt the way other girls wore kilt pins. Somewhat hidden toward the back left is a pearl-topped stick pin that came with a green velvet and satin hat I bought at a crafts market in Exeter, England about 15 years ago. In old movies, I always admire how the women can wear earrings, a necklace, and a brooch in the same outfit and never ever look like too much.
“Dirge” (Sligo Avenue, Silver Spring, Maryland)
It is still jarring to walk out each morning into a landscape dominated by snow. The trees make me particularly sad. Their branches still sag, though the snow has long since fallen off them. And they look, somehow, defeated. Somewhere an Ent is weeping I think.
“My raft” (Sligo Avenue, Silver Spring, Maryland”
Toward the end of her life, when the French writer Colette was confined to her bed (due to excruciating arthritis, I think), she referred to her bed as “my raft.” My bed is my raft, my refuge, my library, my work table, my dressing room, my storage space, my schoolroom, my prayer closet, my safe place.
“Oh Froggie!” (Sligo Avenue, Silver Spring, Maryland)
This mug used to be part of a set of four. I bought it in 1992 or 1993, when I was visiting my friends Sarah and Dean in Devon, England. Sarah, a friend from BU and the Huntington Theatre, actually left a couple of days after I arrived because her visa expired. So I spent most of the time knocking about with her British boyfriend Dean (who’s now her husband). One day we took a day trip to Exeter, which somehow involved stops at 7 or 8 pubs. I bought the mugs at a fair that was taking place at the town’s cathedral. I dropped them getting off the bus once we were back in Devon, and—over yet another pint of cider at the Wig and Pen—discovered one of the mugs was irretrievably broken. About a decade later, I gave one of the surviving mugs to my friend Marnie who was visiting from Washington state and wanted something to remember me by. And then there were two . . . which I hope to keep safe and sound for another decade or three.