Craft Sale

The poster was a return to drawing - I haven't done any in a while (same with the cursive, and I think that shows... blerg). More birds, and wool french press cozies. Hoping to open an etsy shop this fall.

something of inexplicable value

This arc of light came into our kitchen the other day. It came at a good time.

Faster Every Year

Iiiii know. I am being one lame blogger. This summer is just slipping through my fingers at an alarming rate. I'm contemplating giving up and calling it the Lost Season. But then I remember that I have read a few books, travelled a little, picked some berries, eaten some cherries, made some things, drawn a little, and enjoyed the open windows at night. And that's something. So now, some visual aids of my goings-on to distract you from my absence:

Oh, and the hair. No cut yet. 1) I can't decide what to do, and 2) the summer's been slippery, as previously noted. But don't worry, things are going to pick up around here. I can feel it in my bones.

Hair

You can wear the dumpiest outfit, but if you have a good hairstyle, you can pull it off like it's intentional. I've been looking for a good hairstyle for a long time, though I'm finally coming to terms with the fact that my hair - texture, color, style - tends to assume that we live in the 1940s. Not so bad, actually, but it's a little boring. I'm getting it cut this week, and while I like Winona Ryder's haircut (bottom), I'm not ready to do short again. So I'm staying long, but considering Joan Holloway's bangs (top). It's not a big jump, but who doesn't like Joan? I'm open to suggestions, though.



What do you think?

Look Out, I'm Back

I've been back from Boston for weeks, but I had post-travel introverted incubation (didn't you know that was a thing?). Plus, my friend Joel took, oh, about 600 pictures of our week. You try and cull that. I don't even have our wedding pictures together, and it's been four years (as of last Thursday!). I'm also working on a small craft sale that I am selling in and helping to organize. Mostly, though, I'm just reading and watching movies and panicking about how I should be making $$, not just spending it.

I will be back for real, I just need to ease in... because for me, internet communication is like a hot tub. It's pretty overwhelming at first, then you get comfortable and you feel good and you think about things, and then you get overheated and have to get out before you feel dizzy and nauseated.

P.S. Bungees

This is a picture of the bungee cord shoe system, as requested. Sorry for the terrible-horrible-no-good-very-bad picture. Light never comes to that part of the apartment. The bungees are red. The boxes next to them are stacked and filled with craft, art and sewing supplies. The bottom box has castors on it. They're from IKEA and work beautifully.

Orange and Relations

It's official. I like the color orange. And peach. And apricot. And creamsicle. And mango. My life has become a fruit salad.

I don't know when it started sneaking in, but I am drawn to it like a north pole magnet to a south pole magnet (and yellow, we're still good. We're just inviting more colors from your neighborhood to the party). I'm liking it with midnight blue and grey and off-white. If I could, I would fix up our apartment in off-white, honey colored wood, green plants and succulents, a little midnight blue and grey, and orange, yellow and apricot everywhere.

But I actually came on here to tell you that I'm leaving for Boston tomorrow for a whole week, and I'll be vacationing from the blog(ert) as well. We're visiting the Harvard Natural History Museum, though, so I'll probably come back with some great pictures. Nothing like taxidermy and dioramas.

Making Our Space Work: Closet

I mentioned a while back that we are working to make our apartment a better space for living and being (and being us). One of the things we wanted to do is sell the dresser, move all the clothes into the closet, paint the bedroom, make curtains, and then get a chair and a small table so we can drink tea and coffee in the bedroom while reading books and listening to birds, all without having to live in bed or look at miniblinds.

Step 1 accomplished! We sold the dresser on craigslist and moved the clothes into the closet. With two large planks of wood and some half cinder blocks from the hardware store, we made shelves for our dresser-clothes. The things that were formerly in the bedroom closet (sewing machine and fabric boxes, primarily) are now in the entryway closet, where we made room by tucking our shoes into red bungee cords strung ladderlike along one of the closet walls (a ReadyMade magazine idea). The little drawers top-right of this closet are from IKEA and hold craft supplies by type, so I can easily grab the one that fits the craft I'm working on and take it into the living room with minimal take down/clean up effort. I love them, as they remind me of the Best of Vintage Elementary School, and that, as I've said before, is my primary aesthetic.

Our closet is divided right down the middle, where you see that white rod hook. Can you tell K. gets all his clothes from the same store? Or that I like grey? His side says Optimistic Go-Getter, and mine, The Brooder (except for the mustard/white rugby shirt anomaly, a bright and sporty nod to the spouse. Truly, I like it).

One project down, many more to go. It feels great.

What's in a Name, Revisited

Today, on the way to the grocery store, I noticed an ad on the side of a bus. It was for some service company - I don't remember what - and there was a picture of a man on the far left and his first and last name were printed over the part of the picture that showed his t-shirt. At first I thought, wouldn't it be funny if I walked around with my full name on my t-shirt. But then I thought, what if everyone, for one day, wore a t-shirt printed with their first and last names? What would that do to the way I see the people around me in this city? Instead of the moveable scenery of my day, each one would become a person - a person with a mom and dad, with friends, histories, probably a bank account, a person who is addressed in conversation: "Please come into my office, Miss Wykowski," or, "Hey Robert! How's it going?" A name, especially a full name, carries so much meaning. Here in Vancouver, everyone might as well be surrounded by walking lampposts for the way we avoid each other. But once you've learned someone's name, you begin to humanize them: to say hello, to ask about their day.

I had to ask myself: would I treat people differently, if I could see their names on their shirts?

Would you?