chocolate cake

this trip to palm springs, let me tell you what it was like. it was like when someone just shows up at your house with cake. like when you're having a really really horrible day and one of your friends just shows up with cake, just because. and you know you shouldn't eat it but you do because someone was kind enough to bring it and the truth is that you need it. it's gone in a second but it was so good you don't even care.


that's what this trip to palm springs was like. a big fat (unexpected) piece of chocolate cake. many many thanks to the folks at the ace hotel who invited me (and my cameras) down in the first place and to the people in my life who held the fort down while I ran willy nilly in the sunshine for 48 hours.


photographs and details to come, friends.

this weekend

I'll drink fizzy fruity drinks from pretty glasses. I'll throw out the long list of Things That Must Be Done. I'll look for the perfect pair of sandals. then pretend to order them. I'll take a slow meandering walk through my neighborhood. even if it's raining. I'll lay on the big green couch and watch movies with the kids. and not fold laundry. I'll make tracy's killer garlic bread then share it with friends. I'll paint my toes turquoise. I'll daydream about palm springs.

you?

brand spanking new

this is the part where I tell you that I hoard paper. pretty paper, non-pretty paper, wall paper, wrapping paper, found paper. paper paper paper. there are rolls in the basement, scraps in boxes and folders and envelopes. occasionally, they make the pages of the moleskine but today they are front and center-- in the form of a happy new banner. if you are confused, look to the tip top of the page.

just seemed like it was time for a change. time for a pop of color. spring does that to me.

p.s. many many thanks to that guy I love for the help. the truth is that I'd be lost without him.

fifty suns

well, the rain is back. with a vengeance. and when it comes and covers the city like this, I can't help but think about the time ava and I decided to stop complaining and take on the rain.
it was june of 2010 and felt like it had been cold and rainy for months. it hadn't been, of course but it had felt like it and it was june, for pete's sake. june. we were ready for summer so we decided to take matters into our own hands. we gathered the necessary materials (white paper plus every yellow and orange marker, crayon and colored pencil in the house) and drew as many suns as our hands could handle. which turned out to be about fifty. in hindsight, we probably should've used sturdier paper and bigger, brighter markers but it was a spur of the moment kind of project and everyone knows spur of the moment projects are all about using what you have. spur of the moment projects are also all about momentum.

we packed up our sunshine flyers and our rolls of tape and took to the streets of portland, downtown portland.

the plan: bomb the city with sunshine flyers. or try to, at least. here are a few of the places we hit:

a signpost on burnside, just outside powell's books. and then the shelves of the self help section inside. because if you are in the self help section of a book store, you might be a person who would appreciate a little sunshine flyer.

the park, near the rose bushes. rose bushes that greatly benefit from all that portland rain, I realize, but would also benefit from a little sunshine every once in a while.

an abandoned building.

the bathroom of the lobby of the ace hotel.

the secret drawers, where people leave all matters of notes, drawings and letters. did you know the lobby of the ace hotel had secret drawers? well, they do.

the photobooth, of course.

pioneer square.

a construction site.

and then finally, the window of the streetcar on our ride back.

but maybe the best part of the story is this: a few days later, we drove around downtown to see if any of our sunshine flyers were still up. there were a few, though most of them were gone. but as we drove by a phonebooth where we'd intentionally covered up a horrible white supremacist sticker, we spotted a note. I jumped out of the car and the above is what I found.

and so, on this rainy rainy day, this is something to remember, this note that was left for us. this is something to remember, this thing that we did. sometimes sunshine is not so much a big yellow ball in the sky but a state of mind.

there are bags to pack

something has been dangled in front of me and that something is palm springs. as in, a fun little palm springs job/project that was first proposed last august but could not be seriously considered due to circumstances beyond my control. when january rolled around, things finally slowed down and all I could think was: palm springs. palm springs. palm springs. followed by: please happen. please happen. PLEASE LET IT HAPPEN. then, on the coldest, greyest, rainiest, dreariest portland day, right smack dab in the middle of the hoping and the planning and the crossing (the double-crossing, the triple-crossing) of fingers, I walked into my favorite hole in the wall thrift shop and found this. this souvenir plate. I took it as a sign.


but it still didn't seem like something that could (or would) actually happen. I feigned optimism for weeks and was sure it would all fall through. well, it didn't and friends, I'm going. this month. just for a few days, but it will be a few days filled with sunshine (please with the sunshine) and color (I imagine there will be color for daaaaays) and dry heat (omg please with the dry and the heat) and blue skies (wide open, I'm thinking) and who knows what else. and I am just so excited that it's actually happening, I had to share. I could not help myself. there will be photographs, of course. there will be more sharing. I will try not to bubble over, I will try not to gush. I promise. I'll try to keep my head on straight. but the plain truth is that I'm prone to the bubble and gush and my head is already off and spinning.

wanderlust

so I'm over at poppytalk with a little peek inside wanderlust. wanderlust= cutest little shop on wheels I ever did see. you know what else? it's parked right next to lodekka. remember lodekka? the old double decker bus-turned-vintage shop? that's right. the two of them are now parked together and people, the vintage goodness. the sweetness. the cuteness. it's too much.


scratch that, it's not too much. it's never too much. it's just the right amount.


p.s. thank you, vanessa. you are awesome.

I am so ready

I don't know about you but I am ready for this month they call march. ready for the last day of winter, the first day of spring. ready for the beginnings of daffodils and tulips and ranunculus. ready for slightly longer days and just a little bit more light. ready for the two trees in the front yard to explode with pink blooms. ready to pretend like it's warm enough for sandals. ready to celebrate five years here in portland and seven years in this here hula seventy space. ready for the spring break rowdies. and adventure. I am totally ready for a little adventure.

so go ahead, march. work your magic, do your thing. I'm ready.