31 December 2010
29 December 2010
1. purple tricycle, 1973. complete with plastic white basket and little chrome bell. love.
2. kitchen set, 1975. with a refrigerator door that opened and closed and a stove that had knobs that turned on and off. details that thrilled me.
3. toy coffeemaker, 1977. as pictured above, friends. it was filled with a dark brown liquid that made it look as if you were really making coffee. and of course, there was an on and off switch. very important, the on and off switch.
4. darci doll, 1979. coolest doll ever. because she was a brunette. because she was a little bit larger than all the other barbie dolls. because she came with a portfolio that contained little paper magazines with examples of her work as a high fashion model. because clearly, she was a modern woman. you know, just trying to make it on her own. and who also just happened to own several very awesome pairs of metallic shoes.
5. shiny red leotard and skinny gold metal belt, 1980. there could not have been a more perfect gift for a solid gold dancer-loving ten year-old me.
6. mr. microphone, 1981. OMG I LOVED THIS THING.
7. white casio boombox, 1983. with dual cassette feature. classic times one hundred.
8. the harvey edwards leg warmers poster, 1986. what I wanted was the life of the person in this poster. bad. and my friends, they knew this. so they went in together and bought the poster for me. which, if I'm telling the whole story here, was purchased on the DL the day we snuck off to st. louis to go christmas shopping together. which wouldn't have been so bad had I actually been allowed to drive on my own with friends the two hours over to st. louis. this was the first major lie I ever told my parents and I'll spare you the details but I will say this: it did not end well. a week or so later, when my friends finally gave me the poster, I wanted to cry-- not because I was still in a crapload of trouble (and I was) but because it was the first time anyone outside my family had ever given me such a thoughtful gift.
9. vintage black velvet cocktail dress, 1988. which I originally found at a vintage shop downtown covington, kentucky and promptly hid deep in the rack so no one else would buy it before I got my mom down to the shop to buy it for me for christmas. really, I had no idea where I'd even wear such a dress but I wanted it. and I wanted it bad. I wore it around the house for a while. and then five months later, I wore it to my senior prom.
10. silver heart locket, 1990. very first christmas gift from ward, very first christmas together. seriously smitten.
11. charlie brown christmas soundtrack, 1992. favorite christmas album ever.
12. photobooth by babette hines, 2003. first spotted at a book shop in new york and then it seemed to disappear. but somehow, ward tracked it down. I am never tired of this book. never, not ever.
13. record player, 2004. six years later and I am well on my way to wearing this sweet little machine out.
14. sterling silver hula girl charm, 2005. with hips that actually move. LOVE.
15. vintage turquoise hermes rocket typewriter, 2007. the first year ward and I participated in advent conspiracy, we established two rules: the gift must be secondhand and it could not cost more than twenty dollars. imagine my surprise when I opened the box and found this beautiful thing inside. people, I could not love a typewriter more. I could not.
16. modern dance paper dolls, 2009. isadora duncan, doris humprey, martha graham, katherine dunham, they're all there. the awesomeness of such paper dolls cannot adequately be put into words.
18. every bracelet, necklace, ornament and painting ava and ezra have ever made and given me, 2000-2010. sweetest christmas presents ever. ever ever ever.
p.s. I don't know what happened during the nineties. I really don't.
26 December 2010
24 December 2010
22 December 2010
once a snowflake fell
on my brow and I loved
it so much and I kissed
it and it was happy and called its cousins
and brothers and a web
of snow engulfed me then
I reached to love them all
and I squeezed them and they became
a spring rain and I stood perfectly
still and was a flower
20 December 2010
14 December 2010
on saturday night, I came home to find forty white paper stars hanging from the ceiling. I wanted to cry. and I could not think of a better way to start off the new decade.
I love my family.
a photobooth strip taken on the last day of my thirties called for a photobooth strip to be taken on the first day of my forties. but of course.
p.s. thanks for all the birthday wishes. you people are awesome.
11 December 2010
08 December 2010
1. pull out the rest of the shiny brites.
2. bake the red velvet cake.
3. wear the teal tights.
4. sing along with sufjan.
5. eat clementines by the fire.
6. add to the forest.
7. play christmas records.
8. make salted caramels.
9. walk down peacock lane.
10. cut out paper snowflakes.
11. line the bathroom window sill with santas.
12. blast a little james brown.
13. blast a little jackson five.
14. celebrate a milestone birthday.
15. head downtown to see the big tree.
16. hit the photobooth.
17. build a little gingerbread house.
18. pinch the ends of the christmas tree branches.
19. wear the sap like perfume.
20. spend less, give more.
21. write about the list.
22. watch a charlie brown christmas.
23. allow a little couch-jumping.
24. stockpile candy cane joe joes.
25. hang mistletoe.
26. put oranges in the stockings.
27. make paper hats and confetti eggs.
28. turn off the lights and stare at the tree.
29. sing carols, sing praise.
30. hope for snow.
07 December 2010
04 December 2010
hey peoples, I'll be posting over at habit all month long. habit= lovely little internet space where people pair photographs of daily life with 30 words or less. I began the year at habit and that's how I'll end it. I like it when things work out like that. I really really do.
p.s. the above photos are selections and outtakes from habit january 2010. how is it that we are practically pressed up against january 2011? how?
01 December 2010
my thanksgiving morning routine does not usually involve the borrowing of a purple bicycle from a hotel. nor does it involve the riding of said bicycle along a river that gives way to an ocean that goes on forever. never has my thanksgiving morning involved pedaling past ships and docks, past seafood markets and old souvenir shops. never has there been the standing beneath a bridge of any sort nor the unsettling cries of sea lions and the swooping of sea gulls. never has a thanksgiving morning been so different. and while I did miss my usual thanksgiving morning routine (the one that involves the wearing of a familiar old apron and the peeling of many many potatoes), this one was not so bad.