I spent the weekend doing compliance training for work (please please PLEASE do not ever mention kickbacks or the Dod-Frank act to me again, ever, dear gods ), watching random movies and researching recipes to use white wine with. Why white wine? I have no idea, just that there’s a semi-decent bottle of it in my kitchen that I bought to cook with BUT I have no recipes to use it with, and the added bonus of the fact that I don’t even like to drink wine unless pressured to at fancy restaurants. I also dyed my hair various shades of purple, but I think the white wine is the more interesting part of this all, honestly.
Songs on repeat this past week:
Two Birds- Regina Spektor
GDFR- Flo Rida
Rise- Hans Zimmer
Uma Thurman- Fall Out Boy
Pumpin Blood- NONONO
StarWaves- Anthony Gonzales
Younger (Kygo Remix)- Seinabo Sey
Full disclosure, these pages contain images from pages I took from Flow Magazine, a really fantastic magazine for anyone who loves papercrafts and the lifestyle therein. It’s unfortunate that I keep finding these lovely imported magazines to crave and lust after, because they’re almost always at least $20 a pop and while I’m not exactly hurting for money, dropping more than $60 on magazines feels utterly decadent in the worst way sometimes. Still, loveliness isn’t cheap is it?
When asked, what the greatest influence on my life has been (which is a rather telling question isn’t it?), I usually pause and try and gauge the person asking this. Do they mean who has been influential in my life, and if so, do expect to hear stories of families or idols cut from magazines? Or do they wonder about aesthetic pleasures and wish to carve my colors from me with palettes from J.W Waterhouse and the bone structures of Guadí? Maybe they mean world events, geo-political and regional… or to delve into recent poli-sci tensions with fervor. Music, perhaps? Film and cinema? Internet memes and obsessions?
So many routes to go, it’s almost as if that questions could be too broad to answer.
To make it simple though,(and if the answer really warrant’s an honest response ) I usually say, Lord of the Rings and Alice in Wonderland. Books or movies, you might ask? Both, why not both. It’s the foundations of these worlds that I love,the passion for escape and world building, a concise and yearning love for a good story told. I could spend hours, days, weeks analyzing and falling into either world and indeed, for most of my teenage years nothing came as close to ruining my grades as these obsessions of mine. Aragorn, Merry, Samwise, Elrond, The White Rabbit, the Red Queen, Knave of Hearts, Bill the Lizard not to mention the Cheshire cat and Gandalf, I would follow them day after day, adventure after adventure and to this day I still spend hours out of my day pouring over fantasy illustrations that bear remarkable resemblance to the world of Middle Earth in their fantastical scope or fashion spreads that pay silent homage to the Looking Glass realm in the colors of their gems and fabrics.
Aesthetically, philosophically, morally and ever always, my life will be influenced by Lord of the Rings and Alice in Wonderland and if that sounds utterly strange and slightly nutty, well, I mean, what can you say?
Songs on repeat this past week:
Earned it- The Weeknd
Radar Detector- Darwin Deez
Shut Up and Dance- Walk the Moon
Thunder Clatter- Wild Club
Azure- Paul Kalkbrenner
Yellow Flicker Beat- Lorde
Infinity- Marek Hemmann
Come With Me Now- KONGOS
So who else is planning the most epic of epic marathons when the final Hobbit movie comes out and you can watch all three PLUS the extended editions of the Lord of the Rings in one sitting? My butt will probably meld with the couch but it’ll be worth it i’m sure.
What’s a perfect Sunday to you?
After spending Saturday having a Batman movie marathon with the boyfriend (the Nolan ones if you’re curious) and searching for perfect scarves that were available in the realm of no-where and never (Alexander McQueen, who knew I would be such a sucker for your clouds of strange gothic loveliness to lace around a slightly chilly neck ) and makings surprisingly tasty Sesame Noodles ( surprising because I didn’t burn anything AND both of us ended up with full bellies) I wanted to spend Sunday in pools of color, dipping my creativity in chilly water and marking up pages with loose lines and mountains.
I’m sure my neighbors think i’m at least half insane when I tie up my curtains to dance in the light with paint and music. But well, at least i’m giving them a good show yeah?
Happy weekends ya’ll < 3
I want to show you at your very best, I want to show you off and off and off.
Be the belle of the ball, suitors lined ten deep and drowning in your beauty.
Age has not been so kind to you.
( Though kinder than most )
Pilot Point was unexpected. We got in the car after a heavy breakfast and a stop at a gas station for roadtrip snacks (ranch cornuts and Arizona iced tea for me, taquitos for him). Ray Roberts Lake was the goal, if you can have a “goal” when your only direction is d-r-i-v-e, baby, drive us out of here. We drove through the exploding boom of Little Elm, past the random tropical madness that is Savannah, past fields and more fields, crops of gold and seas of green. Cows meander here, calm and lazy. Horses roam free, donkeys mingle with all crowds, and every so often you’ll come across an alpaca farm with their curious eyes watching you speed on past down the highway. After a half hour of this repetition, music was blasting through the speakers, my phone in my hand shooting off texts to friends, photos to social medias, I wasn’t even paying attention to the changing landscape outside…
Oh americana, let me hold you close as we fall on by
break my heart with your past
and dust off these traditions you call so sacred
with the blood on their hands
( the blood on our hands )
And then hush.
The highway turned into a road, the road into bumpy dirt, then back to rumpled blacktop and the playlist on the radio went to a pause just as we came out into a flag lined square. My skin sizzled under the heat of the sun and I was almost afraid of disturbing the silence that seeped into every little crevice of this town, the utter desolation of this perfect little slice of America. But there was so much to see, so much to explore, it would have been against manifest destiny itself to stay in the car and not see what I could see.
You can find beauty anywhere
and here, in the land of god
in the land of men and beasts of burden
we all love to drag our feet in the dust
( drag me right through the middle of town, right down)
Sometimes I don’t feel like I belong here, in Texas. But wandering around the hot streets of Pilot Point that day, the clouds hanging above the buildings like cotton candy day dreams, camera clutched in my sweating hands, I think I found yet another thing to love and remember.