I longed aloud today for a simple carafe. Someone heard me.
Did you read the newsletter? Did you see the announcement? Have you been to the website? What? No? Heath Ceramics has gone Uber-Weck. I think I♥Heath Ceramics, even more hardcore.
The range Heath now carries online is, umm, just stoopid. Seriously, they’ve got Weck sets. Love. Wait, did I say that again? Love. Fine. Umm, silly happy. How about that? Better?
See for yourself.
…Hold on. I just looked at the prices. Why does it feel like it’s cheaper than when I got my first taste of Weck goodness last year? It just might be. I won’t argue.
Nikki♥
*you know, she sung “Where The Boys Are,” the theme song to the 1960 Spring Break comedy. No? I guess that’s what I get for faking sick/ditching school and watching lots of old movies on the telly.
The Art of The Steal came in the mail today. The end credits have rolled and I’ve just pressed pause. Seriously, my head and heart ache. The art, that Dr. Barnes was touched by and collected, changed my life.
Dr. Barnes created a home for that art on a piece property a little less than five miles from Philadelphia that showcases an unbelievable collection amassed by just one person.
There’s a point in the film where you get to really see what Dr. Barnes wanted from his space. He used it to teach and draw connections between art and life and people. His wanted to educate, not just display.
As the camera pans the gallery, there are a few Modiglianis that share the same wall as African masks in a glass cabinet. I was struck. That moment took me back almost 20 years to a connection I made on my own that would open my eyes to so much.
In the summer of ’93, before my best friend moved to New York, we braved the crowds at the National Gallery of Art to see the paintings from the collection of the Barnes Foundation. I stood there looking at one of Modigliani’s reclining women.
It was like I’d never seen a painting that meant anything to me before. Never seen a painting that stopped me and wouldn’t let go. Never one, in a town full of museums, that was so different, yet as familiar as the mostly African and African-American art that lived all over my mom’s house.
I made that connection between what was on the walls of the National Gallery of Art and what was at home. I got that her face was like the masks and figures that I looked at every day. But, I also stood a foot from color I’d never felt so vibrant. Layers of color that drew me in. The tones of someone else’s skin against a couch so rich, so deep and textured. I don’t remember any other painting I saw that day.
That Modigliani that Dr. Barnes made a part of his legacy didn’t change my life in a way that made me want to be a painter, want to work in a gallery or dive headlong into the art world. In a way, it just gave me permission. Permission to believe in what I was drawn to and to allow myself to want to know more while feeling a little less intimidated.
After watching The Art Of The Steal, I would give that all up for the collection to have never been able to travel. I knew back then that this was NOT what the good Dr. wanted. I just didn’t know that it was the beginning of what seems to be one of those long cons that has played out over the last two decades.
I only hope that those folks with dollar signs in their eyes aren’t the only ones that win in the end.
i’m dancing in my chair and trying to type. i just need a dance break, then, maybe sleep.
something’s a little different around here…
My cousin, Ricci, popped back up here a bit ago after a long absence. She got me thinking a lot about how I’ve been choosing to live my life. I am discovering and embracing all the things that make my every day great. It isn’t even something I think about in the moment. I’m just following my gut, my heart, my head, my nose…
So, from her comment came the new R&C tagline. Because I really am divining a sumptuous life all my own. (♥: Ummm, where are the Raf sneakers?)
I’ve been struggling with the idea of purpose. Stuck between what once was and what should be. Still a little off balance since the death of McQ. Way too in touch with my emotions. Kinda spinning.
I’ve noticed that these bits and pieces have been falling into place. When Esthero wrote about the Martha Graham quote below, it was a bit overwhelming. I knew I needed it, but was afraid it was the final call to action for a life to be lived. To let go of all the excuses. So, I stayed away from it for weeks. Until tonight, as I share it with you.
“There is a vitality, a life force, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique, and if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium; and be lost.
The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is, not how it compares with other expression.
It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open.
You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work.
You have to keep open and aware directly to urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open.
No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction whatever at any time. There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the others.”
So, what does it answer for me? How does it kinda change everything? A guy called me vague and evasive, once. Yeah, ummm, not ready to talk about it yet.
Nikki♥
{Even as I wrote this post a couple of weeks ago, I was still afraid of what it meant. What it all means and how to move forward. I was so hesitant that I couldn’t even hit publish. Hesitant to embrace what I knew, but couldn’t quite believe.
In some ways it feels like permission, you know. Permission to really be who I’ve always been, yet afraid to allow others to see. Who I’ve talked myself out of being by drowning out my own voice with everyone else’s thoughts.
So, what’s next? Umm, if I do it right, you won’t really know. ♥}
taking the time to make note of a few things that make the days extra sweet.
All I could think about on the way home was a little cod, couscous, onions and tomatoes. Mmmmm. So good.
Ventured out to The Mall today. Seriously, I’ve been planning to go for ages and always let it go awry. I’m so glad I let today just happen. It filled my Wednesday with surprises!
I saw the sign and just had to have a Cinnabon. Umm, I guess? *shoulder shrug central* So not the big deal I used to think they were. It’s crazy that so many things are kinda blah now. Maybe because I can actually make and bake things that really tickle my taste buds.
Popped over to Target. I couldn’t believe they still had a few pieces from the Liberty of London for Target collection. I stood and stared at the rain boots that were 3 sizes too small for a few minutes. Mmmm, pretty.
Instead of pining, I decide to run through my Hunter wellie color choices. I’m thinking multiple pairs. Thx, Jan + Feb. Tony! Toni! Tone! lied. It never stopped raining in Southern California.
I was doing my best ANTM poses in the dressing room feeling Trés BadAss when this song came on. Things got all movie montage inspired. I went from catalog to couture faster than you can say André Leon Talley.
I’m still on a bit of a pop culture fast cleanse, so I didn’t know what the song was or who was singing it. Oddly, I waited until I got home to try to find out. (♥: It never crossed your mind to use your phone?) Apparently, no.
I think the best part of today’s shopping was what I realized about me. I liked it. A lot. Even when I walked out of a store empty handed or things didn’t fit. It wasn’t that big of a deal.
I bought things I never would have. Hello, striped shirt from H&M. Or broke the “I live in LA. No more black clothes” rule. It didn’t matter. I bought the black dress and black tunic because I fell in LOVE and they look killah on me. Oh, Mojo. I’ve missed you.
Thx so much, Wednesday! I hope she’s been as good to you!
taking the time to make note of a few things that make the days extra sweet.
Do you ever smile at the clouds? I can’t help but be amazed by the beauty of the sky.
Apparently, I’m in hyper-adoration mode for tangelos and Sandra Juto… The comments on her wrist worm giveaway remind me how small the world is and how great the internet is at connecting people. It’s just everyone listing their favorite movies. It warms my heart a little when someone else talks about how much they love Me and You and Everyone We Know, Before Sunset, Strictly Ballroom and all things Almodovar.
Esthero… One of my favorite singers, ever ever, posted a song that leaves me with a tear stained face. There’s such beauty in its simplicity. Black Mermaid stirred something. It not only made me happy, but it moved me to use those moments, so easily wasted, doing what I’m here to do.
Nikole Herriot, of Forty-sixth at Grace, makes and photographs such beautiful cakes. I want to make more cakes. I want to make lots of pretty cakes. I want to forage for antique bundt tins. (♥: Okay, breathe.) Innnnnn. Ouuuuuuuttttt. Thx. I needed that.
Still working on booking a trip to visit relatives while the William Eggleston exhibition is at the Art Institute of Chicago. I don’t really own a coat. So, I just need it to be, you know, warmer.
Uh-oh! I can get a bit of stellar photog right here in Beverly Hills. Gursky at the Gagosian opened last week. Sweet!
Counting the days…The Art of the Steal opens this weekend here in LA. It looks like I’m about to get on an emotional roller coaster. Dr. Barnes and his collection changed the way I see and appreciate art.
Ahhh, the art of making me happy. It’s a challenging craft that I’m learning to practice every single day.
just taking note of a few things that make the days extra sweet.
I’m having a lot of fun with watercolors.
So, what else has been making me happy…
Sandra Juto’s blog. I can’t wait to see what she’s captured or created. Her work has helped me to look at colors and stitches differently while knitting. Sweet!
The Pop’Africana blog. Aesthetically kick ass! Can’t wait to read the first official issue.
Flowers from the farmers’ market make me smile. They do. Even after they die. Crazytalk, I know.
Fascinated by Michael Fassbender in everything, Roseanne Cash on Twitter and marmalade, marmalade, marmalade. Oh, Strawberries, get really ready soon. Please. Sugar and I need you.
Blown away by Steve McQueen’s “Hunger.” It is visually, one of the most stunning films I’ve ever seen. It makes me think even more about how I see things when I look through the lens or when I compose a shot that isn’t quite there, but somewhere in my head.
I don’t really watch videos much anymore. Do they still make them this good? Jonathan Glazer’s clip for U.N.K.L.E.’s “Rabbit In Your Headlight”
i don’t really collect anything. it’s more that i accumulate the same kinds of things.
Every couple of days since the beginning of the new year, I’ve been checking out artist Lisa Congdon’s latest project. I’m intrigued by her intention to capture a collection a day for the entire year.
It makes me think about the things I keep. I got rid of a lot when I moved across country. What becomes fascinating, to me at least, are the little things I couldn’t leave behind.
Have you done a major purge? How do you assign value to what stays and goes? Any regrets?
I still miss some of my stuff, but also feel free from having so much.
It started out as a walk I took a few days a week. It was mapped and marked down to the tenth. Thankfully, it’s turned into something I, just, do. I go hunting for hills, delightfully out of breath. Every day is a neighborhood adventure. Miles are involved, just not counted.
I’ve thought it might be fun to bring the old point and shoot and record some of the things I see along the way.
looking for answers to the question shouting over everything else in my head.
So, I’m going through my daily blogroll adventure and realized that time was just laughing at me as it walked away. I wondered if I spent too much of it taking it all in. Looking for inspiration in someone else’s reality and not enough time creating my own.
Is there such a thing as Inspiration Overload?
I look at these images, these ideas and the questions just ask themselves. Am I at a saturation point for a particular curated aesthetic? Am I coveting more than appreciating? Am I bored? I know I get something from everything I take in, but could I spend more time away and not feel like I’m missing something?
Maybe I’m inspirationally congested. Stuck at the point where I should be using some of it, instead I’m creating a bottleneck checking out what everyone else is doing.
Information overload is a given with everything coming so fast from so many places. Can you feel that way by things that are meant to get you going? Things at are supposed to motivate you in some way?
Still surprised by my Real Housewives of Hollywood & Vine moment. But, I've got fruits+veg to photograph before I go into the ofc.#notime4bsabout 14 hours agofrom webReplyRetweetFavorite
Popped over to 
