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?
there’s a gsh story. it’s from the 70s. it only really matters to me, though.
The sound of Gil’s voice is like a window opening on my childhood that makes me want to scream from the rafters that MyMomRocks. She exposed me to art in its many forms. It wasn’t what I might’ve liked at the time, but it has stayed with me for life.
I saw her enjoying herself. I watched her in dance class. It may have been an African dance class, but they got down to the original Lady Marmalade, too. She took me to plays I couldn’t quite understand about apartheid. I sat in her lap at poetry readings. Paintings, framed prints and maps lined the walls at home. We read to each other, too.
The sound of his voice reminds me of how fortunate I was, am and will always be. Thank you, Gil.
And, I’ll Take Care Of You is on repeat.
Nikki♥
(♥:You are thanking her, too, right?) But, of course!
I still don't know how, where or when I would have gotten this as a promo.
So, I’m working on a post about collections inspired by artist Lisa Congdon’s A Collection A Day, 2010 project. I’ve been thinking about the things I brought with me from back east. I kinda have stuff, but I don’t actively collect. I just seem to keep some of the same kinds of things. I’m documenting the few that have interesting stories or that tend to send me off thought wandering.
I was looking through my LPs to see if there was anything I wanted to shoot, when I realized that I hadn’t touched the 45s in ages. I didn’t even know what was there.
I couldn’t believe what I found. Just after Antidisestablishmentarianism, was Micheal Jackson’s Thriller leaning against the Purple Cat below. It was this moment where I saw Junior High Me & Record Store Clerk Me giving each other the head nod of recognition as they passed each other in my memory.
Popped over to 
