jump.splash.play

natural rock pools.

hot springs.

pamukkale, turkey.

{let's}

the best has come, and is yet to come.

The holiday season. 

A time of remembering and nostalgia. 

Warm drinks and cold noses. 

A time to be around those you love (and kooky family members). 

A time that is marked by merriment and joy. 

A time that, unfortunately, is also often chaotic and stressful and ‘busy’. 

A time where people are distracted when they drive and cut-throat about parking spaces 

and just grumpy & tired. 

A time where when things go awry, they can seem dramatically more disappointing than normal 

(or than they really are). 

Last week, after going through emissions 5 times, to my mechanic 3, to the state department of air quality control and STILL needing an extension to register my car at the DMV, I came home to the saddest thing I’ve ever gotten in the mail. I decided to go for a run, and after my iPod stopped working 47 seconds in, and it started to rain, I muttered in my head, “welp- merry christmas to me.” 

As I kept running I started thinking about that: the idea of Christmas, and wishing one another a ‘Merry Christmas’. Since I was a little kid, my favourite story to read in all the bible has always been the Christmas story.

{Fear not and behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all people. For unto you is born this day in the City of David, a Savior, He is Christ the Lord.}  Luke 2:10

And it wasn’t some epiphany more than a remembering in that moment: that this is exactly the joy of Christmas. These shitty weeks of sad things and hard moments that leave you with limited choices but to laugh, are what hold the ‘good news of great joy that will be for all people’. The angel and heavenly hosts didn’t come to the perfect ‘Martha Stewart’ house full of DIYed projects adorning every nook, presents perfectly wrapped (not forgetting anyone) under the tree, mulling spices over the stove, fire in the fireplace and hot cocoa in cute matching mugs for everyone. They didn’t Instagram the Star of Bethlehem for all to see. They came to sheep herders in the middle of a field, in the middle of the night, to announce the greatest gift in the world had been born in a dirty barn to a couple of kids that had been shamed for an illegitimate pregnancy.

The ‘merriment’ of Christmas is for the hungry, for the tired and broken. For those eagerly waiting on good news, grasping at the hope that the best is yet to come. It is the deep joy that comes from knowing that something is stirring. That something has been birthed in a season of impossibility; surrounded by lack of understanding.

::

Whenever I try to explain to someone what I do for a living, people often ask ‘how I handle it’. They say things like, “Don’t you just get so sad? How can you do that and still have anything left? After the stuff that you deal with every day, how can you still believe that there is good in the world, that there is hope for people to be better? Don’t you ever just want to give up?” My answer is yes. Yes to everything. Yes it’s hard. I have seen the face of evil and the depths of hell in people. I can feel the cold and shiver that comes from knowing that you are in the presence of darkness. But in those very same people, I can see the hope of heaven. In the face of little children who have suffered horrible tortures at the hands of their abusers, I see love. (They are resilient). In the abusers and child molesters and drug dealers, I see people that would do better if they knew how. I see people who never learned how to be good, who were abused too, who are in need of the reminder that they can be different. That every day, is one more day to keep trying.  That the good news of great joy will be for ALL people. I love that I get the privilege to work in my current job. That I am reminded daily of my own brokenness, and my own hope. That I am surrounded by raw humanity, myself included; by the tragedies of life that provide a need for joy. A yearning for it.

Today, I remember. And I’m grateful.  

May there be things that remind you too.

 

:: 

harktheheraldangels

{fear not, and behold, for I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all people. For unto you this day, in the city of David, a savior is born, He is Christ the Lord.}

merrychristmastime to you and yours.

farsickness.

{let's}

shhake whatchur mama gave you.

tonight, B called me.

she was laughing so hard i couldn't understand her.

she was literally gasping for air.

"what is going on?!?" i asked.

she told me they got their wedding proofs tonight.

i asked why on earth she was laughing about her wedding photos.

she said, "be-e-cause...she captured-ed-your-dancing perfectly! ahahaha! 

At one point were you lasso/gun dance-battling with my sister & 8 year old cousin?"

(maybe i was).

she immediately sent me the following photos.

what can i say, i love to dance...

{there is a bit of insanity in dancing that does everybody a great deal of good}

-edwin denby

{we're fools whether we dance or not, so we might as well dance}

-japanese proverb

{I don't want people who want to dance, I want people who HAVE to dance}

-george balanchine

the mcguire shop: oh you fancy, huh?

i have the most talented and lovely of friends.

they make, create, dream.

they mold stuff with their hands,

with their hearts.

they adventure together. they're socialites.

they care about people, humanitarian efforts, twine.

beeswax.leather.beautiful handcrafted goods.

they are rustic and bold and classy.

they are, the McGuires.

here are some of the things they create:

burnt orange crocheted cowl & brown mittens



bullet hole, handmade leather flask





simple, brass, leather bound journal



check out 'The McGuire Shop on FB' and likeum!

{here}

in need of a christmastime gift, holiday scarf, delishhous flask for any occasion?

oh my, my...buy it here:

The McGuire Shop (on Etsy)

follow them on Twitter too

@themcguireshop

ok: go, shop, delight yourself.

(you won't regret it!)

ballerina bottoms; business tops.

tulle.tutu.blazer.backwardcardigan.

i just can't get enough.



{then add these...}

(i could eat these up!)

{and let's do this!}

:: images from: free people, pinterest, fashionblogs ::

{greet yer sweet, 'neath the mistletoe}

my favourite christmastime song, ever.

en.joy.



santa, baby.

all i want for christmas is...

{the president wears prada}

{madewell}



{weheart it}

{cajmel.blogspot}

and a hap.pi new year!

{favim}

decide what to be and go be it.

{head full of doubt/ road full of promise}

the avett brothers

drink it up, drink it in.



robert farkas, a-musing.

can't get enough of this artist, deeelish.

{vulpes vulpes}

{sunny leo}



{strange smoke}

{bad memories}

made better by the ones who love me




{I have always looked at life as a voyage, mostly wonderful, sometimes frightening.
In my family and friends I have discovered treasure more valuable than gold.}
-jimmy buffet

 



thankful, thanksfilled.

in the spirit of giving thanks,

and remembering to be thankful always,

here are some of the many things that make me thankful,

and thanksfilled.

• the generosity of others
• deep, belly laughter
• catching tears
• endearing eyes
• friends that call and call and call
• being tender and being fierce
• the buzz right before 1 too many beers
• dancing freely, always
• silly girlfriends
• honest and kind manfriends
• compliments from strangers
• hugs that last a little too long
• sass
• toys
• sparkling kombucha
• music (oh music is so, so good)
• holidays with loved ones
• playing in parks
• naps
• oliver
• flowers
• sunrises & sunsets
• baby animals
• my grandpa
• my brother repeatedly texting me if chocolate frosting is gluten-free
• pictures of places i've never been
• dreaming and hoping big big big
• believing
• technology that keeps you in touch
• candles and firepits
• favourite sweatshirts
• old friends & new friends
• tastebuds
• sarcasm that doesn't hurt people
• witty friends
• water (all kinds)
• text messages that make you smile when yer at a red light
• cold sheets & warm blankets
• showers and bubble baths
• balloons
• hats
• remembering
• my jetta
• breathing
• eucalyptus trees
• sharing clothes
• melted, gooey cheese
• neon anything
• creating and the created
• twine
• scraps of fabric and paper
• being forgiven
• wisdom
• things that feel like home
• people watching
• wine (oh heavens)
• children, laughing playing crying
• long drives
• freedom
• caring
• high high heels
• glitter
• charcoal pencils
• jumping beans
• my momma
• trader joes
• apu
• being brave and being scared
• good good books
• dumb movies
• cuddling
• singing at the tops of your lungs
• holding hands
• tattoos
• records
• every.one.of.you

happy turkey day,

happy remembering of gratitude,

happy cranberries & adventuring.

oh all the happiest days and years to you.

(even the hard things can be good things, don't forget)

xo

sh-sh-shakeitout

and i'm ready to suffer, and i'm ready to hope



always.

{Dance, when you're broken open.

Dance, if you've torn the bandage off.

Dance in the middle of the fighting.

Dance in your blood.

Dance when you're perfectly free.}

-rumi

whisper, "want me like time."

i would like to go on an endless walk,

here.



{let's}

monday, pick me right up.

i mean, it's just so good.

dance!dance!dance!



wedding week recap, oh mama.

thursday nite.

noel&zach. couture custom veil. dino dragon cake.





friday.



flowers. lace. lil coach. prep,prep,prep.



saturday.



wedding with a view, pretties, wine & dancin.



find me in that burning sunset sky, keepme.

You know that thing that happens when you’re holding a little baby. A baby that’s about 6 months old and able to be pretty alert as you're walking around or standing in the front yard talking to a neighbor and getting your mail. The baby is so sweet, resting on your hip just looking at you, and then it happens…that cute and chubby little hand, with swift determination, reaches right up and grabs onto a tuft of your dangling hair. Its little hand gripping so tight that it would take the jaws of life to uncurl their little fingers from your locks. You immediately respond by bending your neck towards them, your hand over their hand, and ever so gently try to uncurl their fingers with minimal strand loss. It hurts, every time. And despite the fact that you can say, “owww sweetie,” or have tears well up in your eyes, the likelihood of it happening again is almost inevitable. That vision has come to me a lot lately while reflecting about my life. That little baby does not want to hurt you, in fact it probably loves you very, very much. That little baby does this, because starting at a very young age, we all want control. Even if it’s just as simple as grabbing onto what’s directly within arm’s reach, and holding on for dear life. It’s instinctual.

For the last few months, I’ve done a lot of thinking and feeling and reflecting. I have tried to let every day be what it needs to be today, and be fully present. I’ve done a lot of crying in my car on empty streets and have never laughed so deeply with friends & family. People have been so so good to me. They have surrounded me and been fierce and tender and love. People have cried with me when I couldn’t and let me laugh at things I shouldn’t. They have held my face in their hands, catching my tears and reminding me of true things. I have made mistakes and good choices, and forgiven myself often. I have thought deeply about what it means to be fully alive, when you’re feeling mostly dead. I have buried myself into the heart of God, and have never prayed harder in my entire life. For everything, and everyone. I have never felt such compassion for other people and the decisions they've made in dark seasons (past and present). I have looked at the sunrise and the sunset and the raindrops. I have danced a lot and run what feels like a million miles. I have kept dreaming and hoping for the things to come. I have been thankful for what has already been.

A friend showed me this poem recently which I’ve adapted as my mantra:

{It’s dark because you are trying too hard.

Lightly child, lightly.

Learn to do everything lightly…

Even though you’re feeling deeply…

Lightly let things happen

and lightly cope with them…

On tiptoes and with no luggage…

Completely unencumbered.}

-aldous huxley, 1894-1963 (adapted)

Lately, I have often seen myself as that little baby, reaching up and grabbing soo tightly onto that strand of hair. CLUTCHing the things I want to hold onto, refusing to let go.  Realizing that I’m not really controlling anything (there is freedom here). Life is ever changing, always. And maybe that’s where the comfort lies…not in the things that we are able to hold onto and keep the same, but in our ability to find comfort in the changing. For there will forever be changing. Life will never slow down, it will never get simpler. It will always get more full, and more complex. This is what awaits. This is the constant.

{Everything remains unsettled forever, depend on it.} – henry miller

There are things that I deeply want that have never been, and may continue to never be.  For those unknown hopes, and feelings without a home, I will keep reminding myself to ‘open up ma hands’ and learn to do everything lightly. I will let my sorrow be sorrow and my joy be joy. I will lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them. I will do the best I can, in all the ways I can, with everything I can. I will continue to become, who I’ve always been becoming.

{For we know the love G-d has for us, and we trust in that.} -1 John 4:16



flavourite.

this is one of the many reasons why i love 

this girl like crazy:

"hi tahnanananananaa-a-a! 

leaving you a voicemail was really important to me,

but I lost my bluetooth,

so what's a girl to do??

just break the law I guess.

a little belligerence never hurt nobody!

(laughing) -well, maybe that's not true.

belligerence implies violence,

in which case someone is inevitably hurt.

...I gotta get off the phone." 

*click*

-annieree

likeijustwanna.



yummayum.

i know i've been absent from my 'tuesday trends' posts,

but i've still been lovin' on fashion,

don't you worry.

here are some of my current favourites.

yummayumyum. patterns&colourpop!

~enjoy~







{via lookbook, weheartit, pinterest & fellow fashion blogs}

somewhereonlyweknow.

t'nite,

grab a bandanna.

tie it 'round yer eyes.

spin in a circle 3 times.

stop.

point yer finger to any spot on the map.

i'll meet you there by morning.



we can search the whole world over,

adventuring & looking for our souls.

only to wind up laughing in the grass,

because we've found them in each other.

they've been there all along.

{let's.}

...leaving my cares forgotten among the lilies...

this morning, i got an email from an old kindred soulfriend.

she means so very much to me.

we probably haven't spoken in years.

it doesn't matter.

her words touched me deep down in my heart,

so instead of having it sink away in my inbox

or some 'labeled' folder that i will never re-read,

i put it here.

to help me remember good things.

i'm thankful for her.

this is more for me than anyone else,

but you're welcome to read it too.

....

without having any idea where you or your life is at, knowing we haven't really talked in far too long, just know this:

confession--i just went on a binge of reading all your last few months of blog posts.

i just really love all of who you are.
you inspire me to see the beauty around me.
you make me feel like this awkward, uptight, type-a, struggling twenty-something has this beautiful, creative artistic side inside of her just itching to get out. you remind me that i can be a strong hippie feminist and still love wearing lace and colors. you help me remember to travel and play and not miss this moment because i have five-thousand other things to do (that matter too!)

and a little while ago i read st john of the cross, and came across this, and i've been sharing it with anyone who i think might find some hope and goodness captured in it:

"In solitude she lived,
And in solitude built her nest;
And in solitude, alone
Hath the Beloved guided her,
In solitude also wounded with love

...I remained, lost in oblivion;
My face I reclined on the Beloved.
All ceased and I abandoned myself,
Leaving my cares forgotten among the lilies."

i love you.

i still have the heart you made me hanging in my closet,

reminding me of those truths of who i am.

...

it's so important to have reminders that point to the truths of who we are.

her email was exactly that for me, today.

{blue skies again}

dear winterbird
how long can you last
before it gets too cold
and the earth asks you back

dear ??
you're ready for the sun
the old man is leaving
a longer day's begun

suddenly i can see blue skies again
hear you say there's nothing less
that our hearts will mend
i promise you they do

birch trees are bones
stripped of their leaves
and pressed between the pages
of my memory

this heart of mine
is ready for the spring
open up my window
winterbird take wing

suddenly i can see blue skies again
hear you say there's nothing less
that our hearts will mend
i promise you they do

it's not easy to pretend
it's not easy to pretend
it's not easy to pretend
i can see blue skies again

suddenly i can see blue skies again
hear you say there's nothing less
that our hearts will mend
i promise you... they do

-jessica lea mayfield

lightly, child.

{it’s dark because you are trying too hard. lightly child, lightly. learn to do everything lightly…

even though you’re feeling deeply… lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them…

on tiptoes and with no luggage… completely unencumbered.}

–aldous huxley, 1894-1963 (adapted)

pieces of broken teacups.

tday at church, the pastor spoke a sermon called, 'the problem with truth'.
as he spoke, something about it deeply resonated with the first professor I ever had at college.
I remember sitting in that class, feeling like a nobody & having the following reflection:
it was like my faith was a room.
A room that was perfectly decorated.
Beautiful and welcoming.
And then God came through like a tornado.
He over-turned things and was smashing stuff and ripping up my couch cushions, until nothing looked like it once had.
Then, he left.
And it was up to me to sit in the middle of the room and begin sifting through stuff.
Seeing if I could recognize anything or pieces of things.
If I could remember the true things,
and finding truer things along the way.
So I'll stay right here...sifting...for as long as I have to.

ocean breeze & wineries

sand and sea.

wine and me.

{coastal getaway commence}



runnin and beachin in del mar



then...



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



and then dancin, with our hands above our heads.

{yes please}

knight needed.

{if anyone is in the mood to rescue a damsel in distress,

i know a girl.}

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.

...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.

...then,

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. say...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.

enjoy:

let's go home.

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

 



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.

let's.

meet you there.

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

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.

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.

(please...).

{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.}

enjoy:

and this:

old before your time.

and him:

bon iver: skinny love

and them:

and this:

Fleet Foxes – The Shrine / An Argument

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.



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

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.

thankful.

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.

ever.

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."



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.

let's.

band of livin' room pirates.



ideal friday night.

{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.

Magic.

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