Little Joys

(via RedVelvetArt.com)

Sartorial Happiness

Source: The Sartorialist.

On the streets of Paris. Love. Every. Detail.

(Including the part about the streets of Paris. Anyone wanna go?)

My To-Do List

(via iLove)

"I want to go to there."

I am so over the rain. And computers. And walls.

(via I Am Blessed)

(via iLOVE)

Redecorating Daydreams

Disclaimer: I live in the city. But want my place to feel like the country. Or a cottage. I make no apologies for the lack of urban sleekness. Nothing stark and modern, thanks. I want cozy.

Home Office

I'd like to write here. I have the wire basket. And wooden chair. Now I need a cushion. And desk.


I wouldn't mind some sprawling desk space. That's open and airy and inviting. With floor-to-ceiling windows. (Time to ditch the IKEA-dorm-desk situation, Nadine.)


Bedroom

I need more color in my bedroom. I already have the slippers.


Note to self: Decorate with books and fire.


I have a wrought-iron single bed. Painted white. The quilt on my bed is 30 years old. And is disintegrating. Time for something new. That still looks old.


I want cowboy boots. And maybe wallpaper.


My landlords might not want me installing beams.


Now would they want me building a brilliant brick wall. But how I heart chandeliers....




source: decor8 & country living. and probably pottery barn.
and some are complete mysteries, saved on my computer years ago.

For the Love of Plaid: Street Style

Too lazy to write tonight. So while I curl up on my bed with a book about vampires, here's some plaid inspiration for you all. Liv, Michelle and Katie know how to dress. Yes, they do.

And so does Ryan.

(And no, there is no Bells tartan that I know of. There's probably a Kennedy one. And an Annand one. But I feel like I'm cheating by using maiden names that aren't my own. And I'm not a Bell. I'm plural.)

The "Before" Photo

I'm spending some much-needed time with my hair stylist tomorrow. Because I'm starting to feel like the '80s Bon Jovi.* And I want to look like the '90s Bon Jovi. Less lion. Straighter layers.

But the scarves will remain. Always.

*Okay, okay, my hair isn't that bad. It's more like I'm channeling Brad Pitt circa 1994. Not unbearable, but a bit of a safety hazard. One gust of wind and I have no idea where I am.

"Tristan with bangs, please. Pre-tragedy and sans facial hair."

I wonder how often my stylist gets handed photos of male heartthrobs from previous decades by her female clients. I should be the first.

Colour Me Happy

This is my favorite photo spread of the past year or so. Because I love scarves. And layers. And neutrals. And comfort. And Keri Russell.

And this wedding just makes me happy. Because sometimes I just want to sit in the grass. The fact that she's wearing cowboy boots under that gorgeous gown makes it even more amazing.

Even better, Big Huge Labs now generates colour palettes from your uploaded photos. So the country wedding looks like this:

If the above 15 swatches were the only colours on the planet, I would have no complaints. In fact, I'd probably swap out talking for singing and walking for skipping. Sigh.

How to Have a Good Sunday

1. Go to church.

Today was about all things heaven. I love it when things I've already been mulling over on my own are echoed from the pulpit/stage/screen. And when authors I respect are quoted by other authors I respect, all the while reaffirming things I know to be true.

Sometimes I have to stop and remind myself that much of my dissatisfaction with my earthly experience is a consequence of living in a broken world. To a degree, there will always be desire without fulfillment while I walk the dusty roads of life. Because I was made for something more. The Journey of Desire hit home for me years ago, just as Bruxy's sermon did today.

“We are homesick for Eden. We’re nostalgic for what is implanted in our hearts…We long for what the first man and woman once enjoyed- a perfect and beautiful Earth with free and untainted relationships with God…Every attempt at human progress has been an attempt to overcome what was lost in the Fall.”

- Randy Alcorn

2. Eat lunch.

I met two friends for lunch. The food was great, the service awkward and unspectacular, and the phrase "Oh, swell!" was blurted at the most appropriate time. Ah, dessert. Friends and food go together like Batman and Robin. (Except that no one is going to sue me for my dessert-with-girlfriends habit. Seriously, who would sue Batman?!)

3. Walk by the parade. Do not stop.

It was cold and blustery. So we did not slow down as we walked by the masses awaiting Santa Claus' float. I've decided that when I have children (assuming I do), I'll make a very big deal out of watching the parade on television. I'll even throw candy at them in the living room if it means I don't have to stand out in the snow.

4. Check out some art.



The AGO was free this weekend, as it was the grand reopening after the big Frank Gehry renovation. Honestly, part of my reason for going was just to be able to type that I've been in a Frank Gehry building. My aspirations in life are mind-blowing, are they not? Unfortunately, the showstopping spiral staircase was still under renovation. And I desperately wanted to walk it. But I play by the rules. Always. So I took the less impressive stairs. I navigated its massively impressive-yet-confusing-for-the-directionally-challenged layout with friends (three new ones, two old), a little intimidated by the Monets, Van Goghs, Warhols and Picassos. And the Peter Paul Rubens masterpiece The Massacre of the Innocents. Which was THE BIG DEAL of the gallery. Understandably.


I'm by no means an art connoisseur. But something sort of clicked while starring at all that genius. When you're 12 inches from a Renoir, you almost hear it daring you to do something of significance. To leave a legacy. And to make it beautiful.

Fly Me to the Moon. Or Anywhere.

Confession: Sometimes I check out travel health insurance quotes over at Kanetix.ca so I can daydream about actually traveling somewhere. It's future-adventure porn for the girl with a day job. It gives me permission to fantasize about getting that stamp on my passport. Yes, travel-health-coverage options make me happy. They reassure me that I'm living in a responsible dream world. That secretly planning to pack a bag and leave it all behind is hardly reckless; it's brilliant.

I'm a practical dreamer. Or a dreamer who's too practical. I can talk myself out of almost any exciting idea because it doesn't line up with the self-imposed expectation to be responsible, careful, discerning and sensible. This isn't always a bad thing, but I'm starting to realize that part of being responsible is pursuing the things that inspire me. And sometimes that means just tossing aside the sensible and jumping into the big unknown.

I still dream like a little kid. But thanks to my friend the Internet, I can weigh the practicality of Nadine's Fantasy Land. My impromptu Kanetix parties have me comparing insurance options and rates as if the whole world is at my typed-out fingertips. It's my own Choose-Your-Own Adventure game filled with endless new scenarios. I can decide on a cyber-whim that I want to go really far away for a really long time. Or maybe just to Buffalo for the weekend. (They have The Olive Garden, you know.) And knowing that I can get a tooth fixed, a prescription filled or emergency care provided in some far away land makes the jet-setting idea more thrilling. It makes it seem more real.

This might take the fun out of daydreaming for some. But I like to know what my dreams are getting me into.

Stephen King Is My New Mentor

Stephen King, On Writing

It starts with this: put your desk in the corner, and every time you sit down to write, remind yourself why it isn't in the middle of the room. Life isn't a support-system for art. It's the other way around.

...

You can approach the act of writing with nervousness, excitement, hopefulness, or even despair -- the sense that you can never completely put on the page what's in your mind and heart. You can come to the act with your fists clenched and your eyes narrowed, ready to kick ass and take down names. You can come to it because you want a girl to marry you or because you want to change the world. Come to it any way but lightly. Let me say it again: you must not come lightly to the blank page.

...

The road to hell is paved with adverbs.

Desert Song

There are no words.

Bring The Rain is one of my favorite blogs. Because it breaks me daily. It's raw. It's vulnerable. It's honest. And it brings me to my knees.

I've never lost a child. But lately, I've been learning a lot from those who have. Learning what it is to be broken without being defeated. Learning what it is to just be real. To scream at God and worship Him at the same time. Because He can take it.

Ghost Towns

Packed up, moved away, runnin' from the past
Leaving behind the dusty dreams and broken glass
Used to be a busy town
Now everybody passes through, but they don't stick around

~"Nobody Home," Amy Grant

I love the abandoned and derelict. Boarded up buildings fascinate me. I want to explore. To uncover haunting little mysteries now forgotten. To revive that which was once loved.

Oddee.com listed the 10 Most Amazing Ghost Towns. And I want to go. Now. Someone, let's tour the world in search of shells of life, where time now stands still. Some proposed stops along the way:

Kolmanskop, Namibia

Craco, Italy

Kadykchan, Russia

Check out the rest here.

Shadows of the past makes my head spin. I want to know more. I create histories that never were. I rebuild in the back of my mind.

I am inspired by the emptiness.

If I Die Before I Wake...

Amy: I don't wanna die. I've never even been kissed. I've waited my whole to be kissed, and what if I miss it?
Laurie: I tell you what. I promise to kiss you before you die.

~Little Women

I love that Laurie kept his word.

Given only weeks to live, Reece Fleming proposed to his 'special friend' Elleanor Purgslove at a laser tag party.

After she accepted, their parents arranged a make-believe wedding at Reece's home in Mackworth, Derby. He died the next day with his family.

Reece's mother Lorraine Fleming said he told her, "I can go now" after his wish had been granted.

source

And I love that Reece Fleming's parents understood the importance of certain childhood dreams. At the age of 4, he was diagnosed with leukemia. Four years later, he was losing the battle against cancer. He was given only weeks to live.

His mother and stepfather wanted to help him do everything on his little bucket list. He wanted to marry his sweetheart. And so at 8 years old, he did.

Reece didn't have that great unknown we call tomorrow. But he had a pretty great today.

When I first saw this episode of Touched By An Angel, I sobbed. And while it fails to move me now the way it first did, I'm still touched by this fictional tale of a dying boy with a few simple dreams and a mother who had the courage to make those dreams come true. She finished the song she wrote for him. Even though she knew doing so meant saying goodbye.

I pray that I'll never have to bury a child. But if I must, I hope I can put my pain aside enough to honor the dreams of a precious one without much time.

image source

The Last Lecture

I stayed home sick on Thursday and Friday. Hence the midday blog postings. And while it was a little boring (daytime television sucks the life out of you), it was also restful and productive (in the health-rejuvenation department). Oh, and I discovered I really like soup. I should eat it more often. Or drink it. Hmm. I'll stick with "consume."

I also discovered that I let my guard down a little more when I'm feeling under the weather. I cry when watching House. Seriously. I'm moved by story differently. And I think it's healthy to be a little more vulnerable.

Wednesday night, as I was contemplating calling in sick the next morning, I caught the last few minutes of Primetime with Diane Sawyer. And I cried. So Thursday, while congested and bored, I looked up "The Last Lecture" on YouTube and cried some more.

"The Last Lecture" is typically a lecture series in which profs give a hypothetical deathbed lecture. They give the lecture they would give if it were their last. In the case of Randy Pausch, however, it really was his last. Diagnosed with pancreatic cancer at 47 and given three to six months of good health left, the computer-science prof gave a brilliantly inspiring final lecture to a packed lecture hall at Carnegie Mellon. This was in September. The videotaped lecture quickly became an Internet sensation (thanks to a short article in The Wall Street Journal), his simple talk about childhood dreams sparking something in viewers worldwide.

He's still alive, upbeat, and intent on capturing his life and creating memories for his kids. He knows he's leaving a legacy through his work. I'd argue that his lecture is now probably contributing to that legacy. A book version of his lecture is coming out shortly.

I'm a little envious of his passion. I'm not even a virtual-reality kind of girl, but I'd do my MET (Masters of Entertainment Technology) with him in an instant. Actually, were it not for financial concern, I'd be tempted to pursue higher education at the Entertainment Technology Center he co-founded. Because I love the idea of retaining childlike wonder. I think empowering others to pursue their childhood dreams is an incredible dream of its own. Because valuing individual skills and combining different artistic disciplines in new media sounds like a healthy way of learning to exist in a world where everyone brings something different to the table.

I know it's long, but if you have the time, check out Randy's last lecture. You'll probably cry by the end. And that's perfectly okay. It won't be a depressing cry.



P.S. Diane Sawyer made sure his NFL dream came true.

Sugar Inspiration

I was blog-stalking this afternoon, catching up on posts at Hostess with the Mostess. The featured recipe was for treats super-similar to what I made (and posted about) for the potluck at work.


Instead of Hugs and M&Ms, they used Rolo candies and toasted nuts. Hmm. I need another occasion to make people food. Because I will eat it all myself otherwise.

I should open a B&B. That also serves dessert and coffee in the evening. That way I can make my artichoke-and-roasted-red-pepper frittatas and still experiment with chocolate.