Excuses are for losers

This is a piece of paper that I've had for over ten years. An English Teacher at my high school had this posted on his door. I'm not sure how I obtained it, I may have taken it or asked him for it, but I've had it ever since. Whenever I feel uninspired, lazy, or like I need to improve on a skill -- I dig it out and read it. I remind myself of the person I once was and, hopefully, continue to be.

I'm not writing this to encourage you to find your spirit. I've done that before. I like the memory and I want to share it with you. If you are inspired as a result then that's good too.

If I were rewriting these words to myself, today, I would say following:

FACE IT. No one owes you a healthy body. Eating cookies for breakfast is directly related to how you feel later today. Oooooppps.

"Beautiful young people are accidents of nature, but beautiful old people are works of art."

-Eleanor Roosevelt

The House-Top

Read this poem, Melville wrote it from the rooftop of his apartment during the 1863 NYC draft riots, as he watched most of Manhattan burn.

A Night Piece.

(July, 1863.)

No sleep. The sultriness pervades the air
And binds the brain--a dense oppression, such
As tawny tigers feel in matted shades,
Vexing their blood and making apt for ravage.
Beneath the stars the roofy desert spreads
Vacant as Libya. All is hushed near by.
Yet fitfully from far breaks a mixed surf
Of muffled sound, the Atheist roar of riot.
Yonder, where parching Sirius set in drought,
Balefully glares red Arson--there-and there.
The Town is taken by its rats--ship-rats.
And rats of the wharves. All civil charms
And priestly spells which late held hearts in awe--
Fear-bound, subjected to a better sway
Than sway of self; these like a dream dissolve,
And man rebounds whole æons back in nature.*
Hail to the low dull rumble, dull and dead,
And ponderous drag that shakes the wall.
Wise Draco comes, deep in the midnight roll
Of black artillery; he comes, though late;
In code corroborating Calvin's creed
And cynic tyrannies of honest kings;
He comes, nor parlies; and the Town redeemed,
Give thanks devout; nor, being thankful, heeds
The grimy slur on the Republic's faith implied,
Which holds that Man is naturally good,
And--more--is Nature's Roman, never to be scourged.

Discoveries

First, I'd like to apologize for my long hiatus. I hope I haven't lost my spatter of readers, at least not entirely. I haven't posted in a long, long time, because I have had some recent events that made me think, "Do I really want to do this anymore?"

The first is I discovered the website get off my internets (GOMI), where I discovered that the majority of popular blogs are all doing it for money/perks. I've always know that people blog for so many reasons beyond venting and ranting, but I guess I never quite realized the contrived nature of blogging. Think of this as a light bulb moment for me. I know, I know, I know, I was naive! And this discovery should not change that I enjoy sharing parts of my life with all of you, but it did make me reconsider my goals for the blog and my approach.

Following my GOMI discovery, I bumped in to (saw from a very safe distance at a Mexican airport) yet another popular blogger, someone who is written up on GOMI. This is the fourth time that this has happened to me (one blogger happens to live in my neighborhood). Run-ins with people who style and design their lives ruins the mystique (for me). You can't help but think that these people are ordinary people and that, really if you think about it, everyone poops, (i.e. does ordinary, everyday things) We don't all spend our days posing for photos on well-selected street corners. Or do we...grab the camera Ethel!

So all of that caused me to take this time out. In addition, the original idea for blog was to find my life's calling and I think maybe I found it. I'm not exactly ready to share, but you will see. For now, I'll continue to post, because, well...I like you.  I'll try to keep my posts honest, relevant, and informative.

Some other amazing discoveries during my hiatus include:

A French Designer, Roseanna, I'm obsessed.

An amazing sculpture festival in Australia. Featuring upcoming artist Nariyals.

A funny (I mean hysterical) Q&A between Jadakiss and Siri.

Post-boomer ideology

All the single ladies

Interesting article from the Atlantic.

Saturday song of the week: Wanna be by Dizzee Rascal

I got five on it

Do you know the words to this song? I do! This is hysterical to me. Hysterical!  In fact, I may have even considered this song for one of my wedding playlists. Now let me make something perfectly clear - I like to think of myself a relatively sophisticated person (I wear matching bra and panties, damn it! That's sophistication, isn't it?), but there are some truly random (and child like) things that make me laugh. As I write this I wonder if admitting these things to cyberspace is dangerous. Will you be offended cyberspace? Will you? Ok... I'll take the risk.

1. The fact that I know the words to Luniz's cult classic, I've got five on it.
2. Nicknames. My brother calls me Babs and for whatever reason - I always laugh. I don't mind taking on unflattering nicknames either. For example, I recently told a friend that she can call me Big Juicy. I really hope it sticks.
3. Old Lady names
4. Punching Eric in the arm and saying, "look a ginger" whenever I see a redhead. (disclaimer: I love redheads they are amazing and unusual, which is why I point them out.)
5.  Making fun of other Americans while abroad. This is a tough one, but come on... the loud American in white-tube socks and a fanny pack deserves a little chuckle. A little snobby of me? Perhaps. Ok, I'll own it.
6. Sending random pictures texts of my husband to my sister's way too generous boyfriend. I do this on a pretty regular basis. That reminds me, I like taking random photos of my husband for my amusement.
7. Reminiscing with my cousin about growing up. We thought that drunk people spoke in a British accent and said, "more to drink, more to drink."My British accent was so much more refined back then.
8. The fact that when I first met Mr. DID he really liked Jack Johnson. A LOT.
9. Listening to songs like this on my ipod, loudly, in the elevator. Well you got a, you got a way that your making me, feel I can, feel I can, do anything for you baby.
10. Posting romantic Celine Dion song lyrics on various friend's facebook page.
11. Cards that say Congratulations on your divorce.
12. Suggesting someone bathe in butter. Don't do it! It's a terrible idea!
13. Putting on DVD of Mariah Carey in concert when we have house guests.
14. Tiny Fey's book, Bossypants. This is not actually ironic or random. It's hysterical.
15. The names of the clothing in the jcrew catalogue. I'll take one cambridge cable chunky turtleneck sweater in heather aloe or a hacking jacket in double-serge wool in cool pine, please.

(Photo of me laughing. I forgot to mention touristy photos with law enforcement also make me laugh)

Saturday song of the week: The xx - Crystalised

The Little Book of Hindu Deities: From the Goddess of Wealth to the Sacred Crow

The Little Book of Hindu Deities

Super cool look to this book of art that's based on Indian mythology. Stunning, charming, and clever are a few other words that come to mind. Created by one of the top animators at pixar, Sanjay Patel.

What a lovely way to learn about Indian mythology and, as Maria Popova puts it, the spectrum of human experience (petty quarrels, epic battles, love and betrayal, happiness and loss).

It's settled. Next year for Halloween I'm dressing as Lakshmi - the Hindu goddess of wealth and prosperity. She is the embodiment of beauty, grace, and courage.

Masquerade!

Sol LeWitt’s Advice to Eva Hesse: Don’t Worry About Cool, Make Your Own Uncool

Click here for a beautiful and moving story of love, guidance, camaraderie, and so much more that it is hard to put into words. I couldn't help but share. 

I hope that you find this just as inspiring as do. 

Below is a copy of Sol LeWitt's compelling letter to Eva Hesse. This is the handwritten version (borrowed from gwarlingo).  The full text is below the break.

A big thanks to my dear friend, D, for sharing and for marching to the beat of her own drum (is that how the saying goes?).

Before I die...

I discovered an interesting project in Brooklyn Heights this morning.  I was there picking up this guy, when I stumbled upon this giant chalkboard of self promises. Love it.

Have you seen this before? Is this old news? As we walked by I chuckled to myself, because I was reminded of my friend Kate. Kate has told me many times about her bucket list and each time I've responded with the same thing, "You're too young for a bucket list."

Well, I stand corrected. Perhaps we are never to young to think about the things we wish to achieve.

I was a bit flustered as I had my hands full, but I was able to jot down my wish. I wrote, "Learn more."And, well, I meant it.

Everybody stopped, stood, and observed. Some participated.

Buffalo love

In a land far, far, far away (really only 500 miles or so) from New York City I was born. And in this land the people celebrated their lives with an abundance of snow, chicken wings, and American Football.

So this year for my annual celebration of self (birthday). I celebrated in true Diva fashion and had friends over to watch the Buffalo Bills in action. Food was served and although most people cheered the opposing team, the New York Giants, I was grateful for the company and the ease in which another year passed. One text from a close friend said, "I challenge you to top last year's birthday." Impossible I replied! Last year at this time I was in Guatemala soaking up the last bits of sun (and freedom) before our wedding. Way too much excitement.

Anyway, this reminds me of a conversation Mr. DID had with his business partner (or BP for short).

Mr. DID: Hey, I won't be in on Friday. Vic and I are going to the motherland.
BP: Oh yeah - where is that? Buffalo?
Mr. DID: No, Puerto Rico.
BP: I don't understand.
Mr. DID: Neither do I. Trust me, neither do I.

Well readers, My Mom's clan is from the much-celebrated-in-my-house-island of Puerto Rico. And although the Latin blood runs through my veins, the real, TRUE, motherland is my dear old Buffalo. BP was right.

I'd like to give a shout out to all my friends who played along on Sunday and weren't in the least bit shocked by my infinite silliness. It really doesn't get old for me. Someday my future mini-DID's will say to me, "Mom! Stop dancing! You're embarrassing me." And all will be right in the world.

Saturday song of week: Ian Pooley

Pendleton: The Portland Collection

If you look past the general momsy exterior of the Pendleton brand you will find some iconic and amazing pieces. Particularly if you are a first-time viewer and are looking at the new young and hip Portland Collection.

I discovered Pendleton wool goods at a recent trip to Buffalo and this stuff is bonkers. If your look incorporates elements of Native American style this stuff is for you - plus it is legit gorgeous. I bought this as a small present for my sister. Did I mention I love buying her presents?

Take a tour of The Portland Collection's lookbook here. Sort through and imagine yourself on a ski trip decked out in one of these getups. I also really like these vintage men's flannel shirts as well - worn as a shirt with some leather or belted as a dress. Or what about these boots? Who wouldn't wear these apres ski?

Having seen this stuff in person, I can attest that it is high quality and suitable for the indie chick in all of us. I can certainly see this lady wearing some of the looks.

My favorite item from the collection is the over-sized sweater shown below. I can think of 5 different ways to wear and enjoy it. I'm certainly a bit more classic, but I'd pull it off.  I could definitely see this recent bride wearing it on a fall day up north. I'd style her with some black jeans, knee-high boots, and whatever else suits her mood.

The designers: Nathaniel Crissman, Rachel Turk, and John Blasioli bring a "strong love of independent fashion as well as the spirit of Pendleton," and make me want to sing this song.

Come as you are, as you were, as I want you to be

"You might look inside yourself and think you know yourself, but over many decades you can change in ways you won’t see ahead of time. Don’t assume you know who you will become. This applies all the more to folks around you. You may know who they are now, but not who they will become."

Click here for more WISDOM.

Tickle the senses or don't

This weekend I learned about sensory deprivation tanks as a tool for relaxation or mediation. Subjects float in complete silence and darkness in an enclosed tank of salt water that is the same temperature as their bodies - cutting off all stimuli. Think the dead sea meets the womb. The idea is to create a state of purity and see where the minds goes. Perhaps to sleep? Perhaps to a dream? Or to complete emptiness.

Contrast that with the beautiful multi-sensory use of material and space done by Ernesto Neto at his sprawling installation titled Crazy Hyperculture in the Vertigo of the World. The maze-like structure is at the new Faena Arts Center in Argentina. Think Charlie and the Chocolate Factory meets a play gym for adults. Or, better yet, a dream world meets movement and feeling.

Ernesto encourages his "experiencers" to use all of their senses as they ascend deeper into the installation.  There are balls in those nets, so you can crawl through and feel the sculpture. I love the use of all the senses. I wonder how the net feels under the feet? Stable? Do you feel the movement of other "experiencers"? Apparently, at the NY version of the sculpture you could smell different scents and smells.

I don't about all of you, but I am a sensory Diva for sure. I enjoy crisp days with beautiful backdrops, delicious flavors, scents, and people. So I'll take the netted maze over a saline tank any day.

(pictures by wallpaper magazine)

Saturday song of the week: This is why I'm hot

Rico Suave

How awesome is Hemingway? It's crazy.

And the fact that stuff like this actually happened is just dumbfounding to me:

"In 1954 he was given the Nobel Prize. Gabriel García Márquez, still a journalist, caught sight of Hemingway and his wife in Paris one day in 1957 walking along the Boulevard Saint-Michel. Hemingway was wearing old jeans and a lumberjack’s shirt. He had long been one of García Márquez’s great heroes, for his myth as well as his writing. The Old Man and the Sea had hit García Márquez “like a stick of dynamite”; he was too timid to approach Hemingway but also too excited not to do something. From the opposite side of the street he called out, “Maestro!” Hemingway raised a hand as he called back “in a slightly puerile voice,” “Adios, amigo!”"

----------
Click here for a review of a new book on him, a good read in itself.

The Finest Life You Ever Saw.

Oooooohh...On the DID tip

The Swedish brand Whyred is now at Urban Outfitters. Think luxury meets clean and classic pieces. A closet full of Whyred is one to be desired... Enjoy! Pine! Be inspired! Spend! I don't care, just take a look.

Whyred's pieces (and brand) appeals to my constant hunt for the unique and original in fashion, friends, and most importantly experiences.

You, you, you, you, you, you, you, you, you and you.

The city's best dance party

I could have danced all night! I could have danced all night! I could have danced, danced, danced all night!  Enough of that.

Friday's at Home Sweet Home is the city's best dance party - no doubt!
New York Night Train 
by DJ Jonthan Toubin

Imagine pulp fiction meets hipster fanatics and all that jazz. I love it. Soul, Rock, and R&B from the 50's, 60's that make you want to shake your bootie until you can't stop. I danced with the magic man shown in these pictures and if he was even remotely as amused by me as I was by him then I can die happy.

Who is a better dancer you ask? I really don't know, but what I do know is that DJ Jonathan Toubin selects the perfect melodies and when I'm there I can't help but move my body (oh and toss my hair). Bourbon in hand or not I'm in bliss.

I'm sharing this information, because it is pretty safe to say that, this is one of my favorite places to go on the planet. Of course I could dream of places like this, but there is something about HSH that is very special.

Fortnight journal.

Take a look.  Fortnight is a non-profit documentary company that documents the lives of a select group of millennials (someone born between 1980 and 1990), with one common goal (as taken from the "about us" section. are you ready? because I love this!!): commitment to precedent. I love that. How very romantic. Fortnight features just one person a day, one pop of content, giving you (the reader) the opportunity to really hone in on these individuals. A boxer, a painter, a jazz vocalist, a baroness, who are all motivated by some belief, goal, or destiny.

Which begs the (rather obvious) question: what defines me? Or as the caterpillar in Alice in Wonderland said, "Who are you?" Alice cleverly responds with, " I-- I hardly know, sir, just at present -- at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I might have changed several times since then." I would like to borrow Madam Wonderland's response and leave it at that. I was one thing this morning, quite another last night, and who knows what I will be later.

Saturday song of the week: Desi Girl

Stunning Scott

L'Wren Scott S/S 2012

(borrowed from Stephanie Feugere)

Count your blessings

One, two, three, four

Tranquilo! It's Phoeeeebeee

When the darkness falls, you'll be all that I need

Last night during my evening jog, I discovered a group of tango dancers and oh boy did I wish I knew how to tango. The scene was perfect...the sun was setting, music was playing, and they were doing my favorite thing...SWAYING.

They danced under this pavilion.

And as the sun set I realized that I was NOT in the mood to jog and that these tango dancers had saved me from a grueling activity.

For the record, I know I've said this before, but I'm not a swoon girl. I don't believe that everything retro is to-die-for. I don't think that Kate Spade is the best brand ever! And I don't make random statements indicating over-the-top pleasure. But I do think that men and women dancing tango is breathtakingly beautiful. Just imagine one of the women whispering in the ear of her partner and saying, "I'm going to move to your beat, wherever it may lead me." SWOON. OK, I swooned, leave it alone.

All those yesterdays

As I sort through the photos from our labor day weekend in the hamptons. I can't help but sing this song.

Don't you think you oughtta rest...

Don't you think you outghtta lay your head down...tonight...

Don't you think you've done enough?
Don't you think you've got enough? Well maybe..

You don't think it's time to stop?

Let it wash away
All those yesterdays...

All those yesterdays...

So no one catches you drifting off and doing all the things...that...we...all...do...

Let them wash away...

All those yesterdays...

All those yesterdays...

All those paper plates...

You've got time...
You've got time to escape...
It's no crime to escape...

It's no crime to escape...

There's still time...so escape...