Thursday, April 18, 2013

One, Two, Three...


Counting things on BuzzFeed equals awesome when work is slow. 

Because can we ever really pay too much attention to fashion wins of the '70s or Bob Ross (may he rest in peace)? 

Rhetorical question. 

1.
It was Chaz and Craig's first invite to a big Hollywood party.



3.
Fabio and his ladyfriend, Star, fancy themselves Disco Ninjas. Everyone else on that yacht is dead.



10.
The belted sweater might have ended up becoming a fashion craze, but it all began with this man, Jacques Stromboli, a man so sexy sexy that his clothes were known to spontaneously fall off. And so he was forced to belt his sweaters as extra protection.


1. Set lofty goals.




4. You can achieve anything you set out to do.




7. We learn from everything we do. There are no mistakes.


     
Real question: What is up with Bob Ross' hair and is it magic? 
         

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Mapping Connection





NPR recently had a piece on mapping regions of interconnection. Pretty cool, huh?
   

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Urban Animals

   

The Belgian artist, Roa, populates urban spaces with hares, rats, boars, and birds... 






...wild inside and out.

   

Saturday, April 13, 2013

Innocence And Experience In Art

         
These sisters are twelve and seven years old respectively. Respectfully, "Hot damn." Their harmony hits the ear just right: 



Older, but maybe not wiser, and equally stunning. This is what infidelity looks like before the main character in Take This Waltz leaves her happy marriage and then regrets that decision:


In a drugged up haze of antihistamines, I've been watching a lot of movies lately. My favorite? A french film called Rust and Bone. It continually took me to the edge of my comfort zone and then offered redemption. Desire from a different angle:

   
It's the weekend and I'm counting days until Evan's brief return home on Monday. Snow melt is dripping off the eaves, wind is snatching at the screen door, my feet are cool inside wool socks, and Life After Life arrived yesterday via interlibrary loan. I'm on page eighteen. Arguably the best line so far? "Lottie was a reserved woman. Some might have said narcoleptic." Promising.
       

Sunday, April 7, 2013

Prehistoric Awesomeness


Wandering the canyons of Southern Utah last month, I kept on thinking about what life had been like for humans in that area before the modern era. 


We visited pictographs that were at least 2,000 years old and caves that had seen consistant human habitation for 8,000 years. Crazy numbers.


What captured my imagination most of all was the idea of a world with so few humans and one where humans shared the very landscape I was exploring with animals like cave bears and lions, woolly mammoth, giant sloths, camels and aurochs.





A world where on average hunters and gatherers needed to work an estimated two hours a day to make ends meet. A world in which humans could draw on thousands of years of history to show them how to live life tailored to their context. A world very different from our own.


Needless to say, I went back and read Clan of the Cave Bear and Valley of the Horses until 2am last night. Racy bits aside, Jean Auel presents such a detailed portrait of how life might have been when the human family tree divided that it felt effortless to time travel. Even without a DeLorean.
  

Saturday, April 6, 2013

The Good Life


So there we were, lying in bed around noon on a Saturday counting our lucky stars, when Yost sends me an email from across the house that introduces me to Thug Kitchen and Glamping. And thus my mind and any chance I had of walking upright before nightfall were both blown in one fell swoop. 

Passing the favor forward, here are reasons 13,874,981,265,978 and 389,649,187 why I love Yost...

13,874,981,265,978) Thug Kitchen




389,649,187) Glamping



   
I say, "Thank you."

Lindsay says, "You're welcome." 

Friday, April 5, 2013

Them There Eyes







Animal Eyes by Suren Manvelyan
   

Thursday, April 4, 2013

When Love Comes To Town


Marina Abramović e Ulay at MoMA in 2010



When the artist Marina Abramovic preformed a piece in which she sat in a chair and looked into the eyes of the person who sat down across the table from her, she didn't realize that Ulay was in attendance. The two had shared a passionate love affair in the 1970s. When the relationship faded, they decided to walk the Great Wall of China, each from one end, and meet in the middle for a last hug, never seeing each other again. The video captures the moment they met, for the first time since parting, some forty years later.

When Love Arrives by Sarah Kay and Phil Kaye

I knew exactly what love looked like in seventh grade.
Even though I hadn’t met love yet, if love had wandered into my homeroom, I would’ve recognized love at first glance. Love wore a hemp necklace. Love had a tight french braid. Love played acoustic guitar and knew all my favorite Beatles songs. Love wasn’t afraid to ride the bus with me. When I didn't find love, I knew I must be searching the wrong classrooms, must be checking the wrong hallways because love was there. I was sure of it. It was a matter of finding love.
But when love finally showed up, love had a bowl cut. Love wore the same clothes every day for a week. Love hated the bus. Love didn’t know anything about The Beatles. Every time I tried to kiss love, our teeth got in the way. Love became the reason I lied to my parents. Love had terrible rhythm on the dance floor, but made sure we never missed a slow song. 
And love grew. Stretched like a trampoline. Love changed. Love disappeared. Slowly, like baby teeth, I lost parts of myself I thought I needed. Love vanished like an amateur magician. Everyone could see the trapdoor but me. There were places I planned on going, but my plans didn’t matter. Love was a flat tire. 

Love stayed away for years before finally reappearing. And then I barely recognized love. Love smelt different now. Love had darker eyes, a broader back. Love came with freckles I didn’t recognize. New birthmarks, a softer voice. Now there were new sleeping patterns, new favorite books. There were songs that reminded love of someone else. Songs love didn’t like to listen to. So did I.
But we found a park bench that fit us perfectly. We found jokes that make us laugh. And now, love makes me fresh homemade chocolate chip cookies. But love will probably finish most of them for a midnight snack. Love looks great in lingerie, but still likes to wear a retainer. Love is a terrible driver, but a great navigator. Love is messier now, not as simple. Love uses the word “boobs” in front of my parents. Love chews too loud. Love leaves the cap off the toothpaste. Love uses smiley faces in text messages. 
But love also cries. And love will tell you you are beautiful and mean it, over and over again. When you first wake up, “You are beautiful.” When you’ve just been crying, “You are beautiful.” When you don’t want to hear it, “You are beautiful.” When you don’t believe it, “You are beautiful.” When nobody else will tell you, “You are beautiful.” Love still thinks you are beautiful. But love is not perfect and will sometimes forget to tell you when you need to hear it most.
Love is not who you were expecting. Love is not who you predicted. Maybe love is in New York City, already asleep while you are in California or Australia, wide awake. Maybe love is always in the wrong time zone. Maybe love is not ready for you. Maybe you are not ready for love. Maybe love just isn’t the marrying type. Maybe the next time you see love is twenty years after the divorce-- love is older now, but as beautiful as you remembered. Maybe love is only there for a month. Maybe love is there for every firework, every birthday party, every hospital visit. Maybe love stays. Maybe love can’t. Maybe love shouldn’t.
Love arrives exactly when love is supposed to. And love leaves exactly when love must. When love arrives, say, “Welcome. Make yourself comfortable.” When love leaves, ask love to leave the door open. Turn off the music. Listen to the quiet. Whisper, “Thank you for stopping by.”
   

Monday, April 1, 2013

The Crack Spider's Bitch