Friday, September 30, 2011

ocean breeze & wineries

sand and sea.
wine and me.

{coastal getaway commence}

runnin and beachin in del mar


door to door driver service to a 3 winery tour in temecula.

and then dancin, with our hands above our heads.

{yes please}

Sunday, September 25, 2011

knight needed.

{if anyone is in the mood to rescue a damsel in distress,
i know a girl.}

Friday, September 23, 2011

je vais vous répondre dans la peinture.

i would like to fall into this painting,
and never find my way out.

meet you there?

{french cafe 3, portion of a mural by Summer Viljeon}

de laisser faire.

Monday, September 19, 2011

...say africa...

last week i went to see mr ray lamontagne.
the only other listed musician was brandi carlile.
so when a little african man with a guitar came out on stage,
i was a bit more than intrigued.
he started to speak & i instantly knew he was south african.

he introduced himself and played incredible music.
he could scat like crazy,
and had stories & lyrics about war,
adventure and the apartheid.
he sang songs about the grandfathers of all nations.

he introduced what would become my favourite song.
he said, "this is a song about a troubadour who travels all
over the world, but no matter where he is,
there is something deep inside his heart,
that says (in a whisper) africa.
this is a song about going home."

in the middle of one of the toughest weeks of my life,
he brought life and light
to dark and dying places of my soul.
the chorus says:
{i may be walking in the streets,
of a city called amsterdam,
but the dust on my boots,
and the rhythm of my feet,
and my heartbeat~ say africa}

he was so lovely.
he thanked the audience a thousand times,
and danced his way right off stage.
he was flying back to south africa in the morning.

the next day,
i could not stop thinking about that song.
i decided to see if i could find it online,
and if he was well known in south africa.

um, he only opened for the FIFA world cup in 2010.
ha! what a humble and darling soul.


let's go home.

Saturday, September 17, 2011

maîtresse, embrasse-moi, baise-moi, serre-moi

{Maîtresse, embrasse-moi, baise-moi, serre-moi,
Haleine contre haleine, échauffe-moi la vie,
Mille et mille baisers donne-moi je te prie,
Amour veut tout sans nombre, amour n'a point de loi.}

-Pierre de Ronsard


Friday, September 16, 2011

lasso me the moon.

wanna find this place,
and find this moon?
and go swimmin in that warm sea?
all the way out to the rocks?

me too.

meet you there.
(bring a harmonica, k? just in case.)

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

fashion week.

finalizing my application to fashion & design school during fashion week in NYC,
and having my interview with Ecole Parsons à Paris during fashion week in Paris,
feels more than just a little bit magical.
oh my, my.

here's 100 years of inspiration from london.
between the dancing and the timeline,
oh sweet perfection.

please hope for me.

Monday, September 12, 2011

let it be you.

this week is the halfway point to september.
i feel like the little engine that could.
i think i can.
(somedays, like today, i think i can't.)

but this week i get to see and hear all of these greats,
which will help.
oh come n' soothe my soul.

{if it is possible to fall in love with someone
solely based on their lyric writing and voice,
then i've fallen in love with far too many musicians.}


and this:

and him:

and them:

and this:

and everything else that any of them sing.
it's worth listening to.
it's more worth experiencing in real life.
try it sometime.
you won't regret it.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

where everybody knows yer name.

so tonight, i realized i spend too much time at trader joes.

there is this cashier who has the same birthday as me,
and he calls me 'birthday twin'.
he's super earthy and has dreads & bohemian piercings.
he's always talking to me about our sign
& how taurus' are so 'down to earth'
and the friendliest people.
i've told him that i think he got an extra dose of 'down to earth',
and i have a little bit more of the 'strong-willed' taurus in me.
he likes to reframe it and call me 'strong-hearted'.

there's another gal named jen who's been saying for months
that she wants to get her nose pierced if she could find a
little gold hoop like mine.
i told her that i made it, and if she gets her nose pierced i'd make her one.

tonight, i ran to get coffee for the morning,
and wine for tonight.
jen was stocking something and i exclaimed,
"hey jen, you got your nose pierced! looks so good."

meanwhile dreads calls from across the row of registers,
"jen, you know birthday twin?"
jen says, "no, just from here. but tannia's the reason i got my nose pierced!"
i tell her that i'll make her a gold hoop and bring it in next time.

dreads hollers, "see- taurus, friendliest people i know."

as i drive home i laugh and think,
welp it's not Cheers, but i'll take it.
good thing they don't sell art supplies
or i'd probably have a cot in the back room.

sunshine over me no matter what i do

{and next he said: how tiny it is we whispered,
winter has gone beneath
the misty places of your shadow...
ships are my language,
and light your storm.}

-kylie johnson

Saturday, September 10, 2011

no matter what may come.

it's 4am.
can't sleep.
(or avoiding my sleep dreams).
either way,
i'm awake.

as i sit here listening to friends sing,
look at another's travels,
and write emails to africa,
i'm reminded that although i am alone & awake at 4am,
i am very close to the things i love.
surrounded, when i need it.

at the end of a very exposed email,
she asked me, "could lost dreams be the most devastating thing in life?"
my answer: "yes."

let's promise, to never let each other stop dreaming.
stop chasing them.
no matter what may come.
you can call me a fool,
but i know the truth.
and i trust in that.

oh, ma.

i'm starting to write down conversations with my momma,
so i don't forget someday.

{"sweetie, i'm not worried about the fat guys dressed in black sulking in the alley ways,
i'm confident you could outrun them.
it's the crackheads with bicycles that make me most nervous.
please let me buy you a gym membership."

"have you ever been to a gym? there are far worse creatures
than crackheads with bicycles. drug addicts can actually be quite nice
if you just talk to them for a minute."

"you really scare me sometimes, you know that?
at least take the mace i bought you. at least."}

-on me running alone at night in the city

before she hung up i said, "mom- will i always be weird?"
"there's nothing wrong with being weird sweetie."
me- "so, yes."

Friday, September 9, 2011

be my peter pan.

and they never, ever worried if it would float.

they knew if they believed,
it would.

you find an oversized cardboard box & some markers,
i'll get a pizza & some wine.


band of livin' room pirates.

ideal friday night.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

{in the ocean washing off my name from your throat}

Jack Johnson- do you remember
7 years ago today.
Midnight pancake breakfast.
Horrible first impressions.
I was not that girl,
You were not that guy.
Calling you Andy for months.
Skateboard run-ins.
Phone calls with the window down on the highway,
Driving back from the beach.
Holly Berry.
Howie Day.
Glitter sidewalks.
Blue eyes.
Best surprise.
Again, magic.
Traffic & billboards & French fries.
Sitting on the hood of my car.
My favourite shirt.
Kissing you first,
Then saying I’m sorry.
And that I didn’t like you.
You laughing,
And smoking,
And always disappearing.
And always coming back.
Waiting, and waiting, and waiting for me.
Pink shirt.
Parks and resistance and pasta dinners.
Calls from New York City,
Because of glitter sidewalks,
And remembering.
Losing your heart in central park.
Waiting on your emails,
And always broken phones.
Sinking into my splatter paint sheets.
6 months of chivalry.
And knowing my no’s meant yes,
Even if I didn’t.
Rain storms,
And realizing,
And mountaintops,
And canyons and cigarettes.
And the best mixtapes I ever had.
Being so scared.
Skinned knees,
And laying on the cement behind my philosophy class.
Ditching and listening to sister hazel,
smelling your sweatshirt deeply.
Earrings from Africa.
Sadness and heartbreak and falling in love.
And choosing.

I still miss that little blue bike,
The flowers I painted on it.
Before you ever played this song for me.
The basket where you’d leave me notes & marbles & bouncy balls,
And things you found.
You laughing when I fell.
Me not being mad.
You refusing to dance in public with me.
Dancing by myself anyway,
And embarrassing you.
And wishing you’d sing with me.
And you wouldn’t.
Unless you thought I wasn’t listening.
Sunflowers in your eyes.
And still, sadness.
And ever still, sadness.  

9.6.11 ts

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

inspirée {wrap me up}

over the three day weekend,
i sat updating my portfolio with fashion concept sketches
and figure drawings.
hundreds and hundreds,
until my head was spinning.

here were some of my favourite inspirations

via david downton

via deviant art

via katie gallagher

via westminster

via katherine adreiu

via paper fashion

via metrofashion

via red_heather
oh lovely little pretties.

Monday, September 5, 2011

{learning by loss light}

and sketching,
and dreaming,
and reflecting,
and letting myself feel my feelings.
even the worst ones.
letting them work themselves through & out of me.

lately, several people have said something wise or encouraging to me
& then used the phrase, "trust in that."

so i've been gathering up all those reminders to trust in,
and building myself a little summer home with them.
until it's ready to be lived in however,
some songs for feeling to:

Saturday, September 3, 2011

playing tennis & smiling at all the strangers.

lately, i've been dreaming poetry.
i find this most interesting,
because i've only ever written poetry in my waking life
under a handful of times.
last nite, i opened an envelope handed to me by
someone whose face i could not see,
though i tried.

it was a tiny envelope with a little slip of paper inside,
and on it,
it said this:

{every thought, every feeling, all that i am,
is a result of you, and is yours.}

i woke up and felt inclined to spend my morning reading walt whitman and walter rinder.
i was not disappointed.