Wednesday, February 29, 2012


The other day when I saw my momma for lunch,
as I was walking up she started to well up with tears.
"Momma, what's wrong??" I asked her.
holding back her tears (terribly I might add),
she said, "you-r-re just sso beautiful. I adore you,"
and starting crying softly,
laughing at herself as the waiter walked up.
This afternoon I get a phone call from her in the middle of the day.
This is unlike her, so wanting to make sure everything was ok,
I answered while at work.
In a very emphatic and excitable voice she exclaims (more than asks),
"Have you thought about modeling when you're in Paris?!?!
You know, to put yourself through school."
BAHahaHAha! yeah right, ma.
I couldn't stop laughing.
Yes Mom, I'm going to go to the fashion capitol of the world,
FLOODED with models (of which I am not),
and just pick up some modeling gigs here and there to pay for design school.
I think I kind of hurt her feelings. (I didn't mean too, she was so excited about her 'idea', but it's ridiculous. i mean, really.)
she is so cute in how much she believes I am truly capable of anything.
I often get overwhelmed by the amount of beautiful girls in the world.
Not necessarily in a jealous way really, but just an overwhelmed way.
I mean goddamn, there are A LOT of gorgeous ladies out there.
My friends are all stunning (yes I'm bragging, but look at them),
I see at least a few girls everyday that are truly so beautiful,
And when it comes to modeling, media, advertising- welp you can just forget about it:
perfect skin and bodies and hair and lips and everything else.
Most of the time I'm able to just appreciate all the beauty that is in the world,
seeing a person in the same way you would a sunset or art,
with a glorious appreciation for their existence and aesthetic.
Sometimes though, I get so lost in the sea of beautiful, kind & talented women that I just feel like drowning,
or swimming against the current as a mere act of defiance, to stand out in my own way.
(alas, I'm sure there would be plenty of beautiful girls doing this too).
These recent interactions with my momma however,
have made me realize something that I should not be too quick to take for granted.
(or dismiss so hastily).
That although I can't 'do sexy',
and I'm a little too direct to pull off 'cute',
and I'm far too silly to be 'mysterious',
and I don't have any strikingly exotic features or skin tone,
and that most of the time I'm just a hot mess with mismatching layers & an abundance of accessories.
I have something that no one else has.
I have my momma.
A woman who thinks I could be a model in Paris,
who is moved to tears by the sight of me,
who truly believes that I am the most beautiful girl in the world.
And although I assert with 100% confidence that I know I am NOT,
someone thinks I am. (even if it is my own mother).
and that's important.
and that should make me feel beautiful enough.
and talented enough.
and kind enough.
I'm enough.
don't forget that you are stunningly beautiful (or ridiculously handsome),
and talented,
and kind.
you, as you. always.


Tuesday, February 28, 2012

oh Chanel, darling.

timeless beauty.
fashion genius.

"A girl should be two things: classy & fabulous." -Coco Chanel


"In order to be irreplaceable, one must always be different." -Coco Chanel

{spring-summer 2012 haute couture}

{paris-bombay 2011/12 metiers d'art}

{spring-summer 2012 ready-to-wear}

{fall-winter 2011/12 haute couture}

{cruise 2011/12 ready-to-wear}

"Fashion fades, only style remains the same." -Coco Chanel

Monday, February 27, 2012

{came & found my bones}

because some mondays just need more (& more) music.
and because i could watch this everyday.

The Tallest Man on Earth: A Field of Birds

{getting into the swing}


kings of convenience: i'd rather dance with you

Friday, February 24, 2012

ballerina baggage

{i've been wearing these again}

...on tiptoes & with no luggage...
...completely unencumbered...

{oh darling, let's leave our luggage behind,
the ivy can cover it slowly, 
while we dance off the beaten path,
down the road of adventurers}

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

more time.

patience has never been my virtue.
a thorn in my side, yes.
a virtue of mine, no.  
this is a picture of me at 1year old. (yes 1)
that's my neighbor kathy,
 a sweet lady who was probably trying to help me fill my summatime kiddy pool.
knowing me (and my 14month old self),
i was probably thinking,
"look lady, i got this."
i am a doer. a 'seize the day'er. 
i know what i want, and i go after it. hard.
i don't understand why you would wait,
when you could just do it.

lately however, 
my answer to everything has been 'more time'.
i am equal parts confused and jealous of the people 
who say things like,
"who knows what will happen in a few years..."
a few years?!? why not today?!
"just see what happens..."
or- just make what you want to happen, happen.

the idea of life just 'unfolding as it will' 
is painstaking to me.
just waiting.
just watching.
just patiently letting life happen.
that whole concept at times physically aches me.
like i'm not actively participating.
like one of those dreams where you're trying to run as fast as you can,
but you are hardly moving.
like your whole body is stuck in taffy & it's taking all your energy
to go nowhere.
but sometimes,
the answer is just: more time.
and lately, that's been my only answer.
to myself,
and to everyone else who asks my advice.

when will i be less sad?
more time.
when will i stop wanting, wishing?
more time.
when will i know if i should say anything?
more time.
how will i know what's next?
more time.

life will keep unfolding.
days will keep passing.
your thoughts will quiet.
your feelings will fade,
or blossom into something more.
things will be made more clear.
paths will be revealed.
people's interest or desire will show themselves,
or remove themselves.
opportunities will arise.
some doors will open, 
and some will be closed.
more time. 
without forcing,
just...more time.

i'm learning to let life happen,
as it will,
when it will,
and not as i will,
when i want. 

i guess you could call it patience,
(against my will)
but it's happening.
it's developing in me,
maturing me somehow.
and as painful as it is,
i can tell it's important.
i just wish it would hurry up.
i'm kidding, i'm kidding.

(ok, mostly kidding).
just give me a little more time.

Monday, February 20, 2012


most days i'm proud of where i came from,
unbeatable sunsets,
desert rain,
wild daisies & cactus flowers,
the wild, wild west. is not one of those days:

welcome to arizona, oof.

Friday, February 17, 2012

some beautiful place.

sometimes in the morning,
as i'm getting ready for work,
i spin myself dizzy,
and stop,
and point to a spot on my world map.

i get dressed like i'm going to that place,
(instead of work)
sometimes i even pack a little satchel
of things i may need for such adventure,
and throw it in the back seat of my car.
throughout the day,
i take little moments to think of what i might be doing,
if i was there instead.
it's a fun little game.
{oh baby, let's}

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

boys on boys, girls on girls

i am a lucky girl.
i have 2 of the best guy friends.
brothers to me for almost a decade.
they are honest with me i'm dumb,
and kind to me when i need it.
we laugh loud and deep.
they know me
(& my many, many flaws)
and love me.

we get together about once a week,
over margaritas,
& chacha mugs,
and talk about life.
they teach me about boys,
and i decipher the girls in their lives.
it's quite wonderful. 
i've been learning that the problem with boys&girls 
is that girls think boys think/act like them,
and boys think girls act/think like them...
this is not true.
we could not be more different.

i encourage girls to get advice about boys, from boys,
and boys to get advice about girls, from girls.
the opposite will only cause you confusion,
and to make silly decisions.

here's a recap of a typical conversation,
for yer reading pleasure.
*names have been changed to protect those parties involved ;)

me: so i don't understand...
she outreaches you via 3 emails, an instant message & texts,
you meet, have a good time, she's totally into you,
but you're soo indifferent in how you're talking about it right now, 
what's the problem?
bill: you mean,....besides her face?
me: GASP! what?! so rude. what, is she ugly? 
let me see a picture of this girl.
bill (laughing): i mean, she's great. her body is so stellar,
she's funny (and you know i don't find most girls funny), 
and talented, and creative,
and motivated, and a go-getter,
i mean, she's the real deal... i just don't know.
ted: i totally get that.
me: what? i don't. what don't you know?
bill: well, i'll definitely see her at least once more, 
but who knows when that will be,
i'm so swamped right now.
me: have you said anything to her... 
like you're super swamped, but want to see her again?
bill: no, what's the point of that?
me: because girls need that.
bill: but i have no idea when i'll have time to see her.
me: we make time for the things we are interested in.
bill & ted: meh (shoulder shrug) 
bill: what? what's that face? what are you thinking?
me (taking a sip of my drink & shaking my head): 
i'm just wondering who's out there having this same conversation about me.
bill: mmm...nope. doubtful.
ted: yeah, that's not happening.
me: yes it is!
i love you guys,
and appreciate your friendship
and flattery,
but you're too nice to me...
because somewhere out there,
homegirl is sitting with her guy friends at a bar,
and they're telling her how pretty she is,
that she's a gem & a catch... 'the real deal',
and that 'bill' would be LUCKY to have her,
and that 'noo guy is outta her league',
in fact- this just in: johnny depp is single & living in France,
and she should look him up when she gets there!
 and she's wondering why the HELL you aren't texting her back,
or responding to her emails.

 ted: you make a good point.
bill: yeah, hard to argue with that.
me: if you want to see her again,
you should tell her.
and if you don't, 
just tell her. use your balls.
bill: but most girls are crazy
(ted nodding)
me: yeah, they are. i'm sorry about that. 
and most guys are assholes.
bill: we don't mean to be,
we just can't help it sometimes.
me: i know. neither can we.


 ...until next week's lesson.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

make a lil love, take a lil love.

On a day where it’s easy to be cynical
Or commercial
Or lonely
Or disappointed,
I can’t help but be so so grateful for all the love I have in my life,
SurROUNDed by love and people who are so good to me.
Who take really good care of me.
Who remember me.
Who live and love with a ferocious passion,
And inspire me to love deeply.

Grateful for the gangly teenage boy walking to school,
On my commute to work,
With his arms carrying a HUmongous stuffed tiger,
Balloons tied around the neck and bopping him in the face,
On his way to the 15-year-old love of his life.
He will know the pain of broken hearts,
But not today. Today, he’s on cloud 9.

Grateful for silly socks from B that I immediately put on under my boots,
And that my momma still gives me handpicked flowers though I’m grown,
And emails from friends,
And snail mail reminders of friendship & love,
And a rainy day which is both romantic and sad,
And a scribble valentine from my anna-baby,
And silly twss texts about v-day,
And those gross candy hearts that I can’t stop eating,
And that the other women at work are loved & doted on so much,
That our office is transformed into the secret garden by the end of the day.

Love isn’t just about romance,
(although romance can be oh so delightful).
It’s about being known,
And remembered,
And life’s delicious surprises.

On a day where it’s easy to long for love,
and feel really alone,
I’m reminded that we never really are.
All you need is love,
And love is all around.
Your life can be beautiful.

Sunday, February 12, 2012

$1 wisdom

{The virtuous will be sure to speak uprightly;
but those whose speech is upright may not be virtuous.
Men of principle are sure to be bold;
but those who are bold may not always be men of principle.
Virtue is more to a man than either water or fire.
I have seen men die from treading on water and fire,
but I have never seen a man die from treading the course of virture.}


Saturday, February 11, 2012

and a slow, trusting stride.

{i've been consumed with all this 
'living up to something',
to "be something!"
we have such a longing to be understood
and loved by the other, why?
can't it be just this now?
without armor and shields,
just myself.
my vulnerability protects me, 
not my tight control.

i hope to love
with an open hand,
and a slow, trusting stride.}

-sabrina ward harrison

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

your life is perfect, without the pigeons.

I’ve always felt it true that I learn the most about God from little children. Or at least, I pay attention to His lessons more when He uses them to teach me something. A few Sundays ago, I was with my best and the love of my life tinee tot Savannah. We were sitting at In ‘N Out laughing and playing and talking about life. Ron was telling me about the things she’s learning and how sometimes she just wants to turn to Savannah and say, “your life is perfect.” She told me about how sometimes she’ll plan the perfect day, using any extra money they have. Savannah gets to put on whatever she wants, and as they are standing OUTside of the Zoo, she will have a total tantrum meltdown. Ron says, “I just want to sit down on the ground and cry too. I look at her, and hold her tiny face in my hands and think ‘YOUR LIFE IS PERFECT’. If you could just wait to see all the great things that are inside the Zoo, and taste the $8 lemonade I’m going to buy you. But instead, she’s never going to see the elephants or the giraffe or the colorful birds, because she’s crying too hard to even make it past the entrance.”

I look over at Savannah, in the sparkly princess tutu I got her for Christmas that she immediately put over her jeans, using French-fries as more of a spoon to shovel ketchup in her mouth until she eventually just plunges her tiny fist into the paper container and brings it to her mouth, washing it down with a chocolate shake & my ice tea, giggling and being adored by every passerby…and I think, “your life really is perfect kid.” A few minutes later when I swooped down and stopped her from touching a dirty pigeon she started crying like I had taken away a field of gold. I said, “oh sweetie, you don’t want that dirty pigeon, it’s gross. Here- have your shake & french-fries,” but she could not be consoled. She wanted the pigeon.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. In my sleepless nights and long days. That same night I was lying on the floor thinking about what I wouldn’t give to go back and appreciate my childhood. Days full of tutus and dress up and French-fries and being spoiled and loved. But would I appreciate it if I had the chance? Or would I just cry about pigeons when I had a chocolate shake right in front of me. Would I sit outside the Zoo, never seeing all the beautiful animals. As I laid on the floor, listening to records and thinking about this, something in my head said, “your life is perfect. your life, is perfect.” I had this idea of God kindly lying on His back next to me and gently saying, “Stop thinking so much. Stop staying up late thinking about a boy, wishing, or about the things you’ve done out of character, or about words from a song, or all the things you may never know the answers to. Stop being so sad or ungrateful. I gave you Parsons! You’re moving to Paris!! (Your life iiis perfect.) If you don’t make it past the entrance, you’re never going to see all the good things I have for you.” 

It’s sobering, how much we are like small children some times (and a little embarrassing). 
We’re all just growing up together until the day we die.

So... I’ve learned some lessons (mostly from little children)
…and I suppose I’ll keep learning them. 
And I’ll keep walking into all the good things that are waiting for me, 
trying with all my might to appreciate them, 
being grateful for chocolate shakes and french-fries, instead of chasing pigeons. 
no matter how bad I want the pigeon.


Monday, February 6, 2012

Saturday, February 4, 2012


{i was not there at the beginning.
few people were.
and although i can speak with confidence of a beginning,
of certain documented rebellions sparked by a handful of visionaries with stubborn courage,
there were antecedents to those rebellions,
and antecedents to the antecedents.
this is how things happen in movements for social change,
in revolutions.
they start small and curiously, 
an unexpected flutter that is not without precedence,
a barely observable ripple that heralds a return to the unfinished business of prior generations.
if conditions are right, if the anger of enough people has reached the boiling point,
the exploding passion can ignite a societal transformation.
so it was...}

In Our Time
::memoir of a revolution::
Susan Brownmiller

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

::this side up::

someone who I deeply value their opinion of me,
called me a liar.
This was not in jest.
It was not in heated frustration.
They meant it.
They didn’t say,
“I feel like you’ve lied about some things.”
“Or, you’re lying.”
They said, “You’re a liar.”
Like it was my only label, my sole identity.
(or that’s how I took it).
I thought about it for hours.
Tried to recount any lie I’ve ever told (intentionally or not),
And contemplated calling anyone who I may not have been completely honest with to confess and apologize.
I didn’t sleep all night really.
Tossed and turned and tried to remember the good things I have inside me.
But at the end of the night, or sunrise really,
I just had to move on.
(well, mostly I just needed to get out of bed and go to work like a big girl).
I’m a liar. Whether I mean to be or not.
And that’s not all I am.
I’m a liar, and rude, and scared, and insecure, a lot of other really ugly things.
Most of them you would never see, never know.
I don’t try to be these things.
Actually quite the opposite.
I try really hard to be good, to make habits of good behavior.
To right my heart and mind constantly.
I try to see myself and my flaws and the ways I could be better,
And actively try to be a good person,
A kind person,
The kind of person that accepts people,
And doesn’t say (or even think) an unkind thought.
To not complain, or gossip or think ill of others.
To be available to people,
And their lives,
And the things that they want to share with me.
To be gracious to others, to be gracious with myself.
Somewhere in all my tossing and turning,
I heard the small voice of my best friend,
Like a little whisper in my head & heart say,
“be tender with yourself…you’re such a good lady.”

And I realized,
We are all just so fragile.
Humanity is so fragile.
I remember being a little girl and playing with my dad in the summertime,
And he teasing me about my ears (once).
Playfully calling me dumbo, 
telling me I could ‘fly away’ as he tossed me gently up in the air and into the pool.
I remember it so vividly.
I remember the bathing suit I was wearing,
The bushes around the deck,
The wasps on the water.
22 years later.
I never told him it hurt my feelings.
He probably wouldn’t even remember saying it.
I used to think no boy would ever love me because I had goofy ears.
(we are so fragile).
He since told me how beautiful I was over 1,000 times at least.
But even though I’ve grown into my little pixie ears,
I still consistently style my hair & wear hats in a way that cover my ears.
So silly.
So fragile.

I think of all the beautiful people that I have in my life.
(I’m so lucky.)
All the years they’ve lived.
All of the intimate things I don’t know about them.
All the things that have made them, and strengthened them,
And the ways that they are fragile.
Let us remember to be tender with each other.
With ourselves.

We are all getting better, all the time.