breakable light

okay okay. one last, last-post before i'm off (i'm supposed to working on applications and it's killing me. so procrastinate i will). i saw this picture today and had one tiny pang where i thought--though traveling these past months has been the most incredible time, sometimes i miss (just a little) having a settled place of our own to decorate, to design, to throw holiday parties in. if i was decorating this year, you can bet i'd have whipped up something like this-- the simple whimsy and delicate breakable light. beautiful.
(truthfully--i begged Z for a winter wedding. but realistically, we're both from way too cold places and half the guests would probably have found their flights delayed or canceled)

{image via unrulythings via stylemepretty}

thanks to you/ornaments

Z & i are having a raucous time here in the states. we've been visiting friends and fam and soaking in all the burn & bite of this snow-filled cityscape. but before it's officially christmas eve-ing and present time, i wanted to take a minute to say thanks to all you amazing readers for your support over the past three and half months since i moved off to london and started this little endeavor. writing here has been a good way to keep connected, to meet some new friends, and to jump-start poetics. so thanks! i hope all of you are having a fantastic week--may your days be filled with family, food, and the whirring of holiday lights. more posts post-christmas! for now, a sneak peak of our finished typewriter key snowflake ornaments (i'll have some close-ups and details next week. Z & i are considering putting some in an etsy shop, any thoughts?). in the meantime, happy holidays to all of you!

sleepy statements

though Z & i opted for an almost entirely handmade holiday this year, these pillowcases caught my eye. my sister and her husband love love love miranda july's strange phrases. and what a great way to display them!

{image via thirddrawerdown}

let it snow

the northeast is blanketing itself in white: the landscape all quietness and slow drifting. it's amazing to be home. to see my family's faces. to sleep in and wake up to the familiar. posting may be a bit spotty for the next few weeks--as i'll be spending less time at the computer and more time in the snow of it all. but i'm not disappearing entirely, i promise.

{image via leslie}

on air, or oh baby it's cold outside

right now i am in the air over the ocean, heading home--filled up with blinking lights and excitement over the snowglobing i am flying into. i am so ready for: smalltowns, houses, & liftbridges; tiny niece-hands & bright mittens; ornamenting trees & sugaring cookies; swinging with ella fitzgerald; sliding on icy sidewalks; snowmonster making & balled-up snow thrown at loved ones; home-cooked chili & shepherd's pie; first married hanukkah & christmases; sleeping in real beds; N's amazing secret-recipe breakfast potatoes; new babies & old friends; the thrill & many-expletive moments of ornament making; filling up stockings strung along fireplaces & staircases; waking my sister on christmas morning (we will never be too old for this); the just-lit-match scent of wintering air; and eggnog eggnog eggnog. man oh man. my heart is all hot-air-ballooning. home--here i come!

{image via unknown}

flying into the holidays

yesterday Z & i meant to spend hours and hours packing and getting ready for our returning. but instead...we just might have gotten super excited, over-imbibed, danced, giggled, and fell-over ourselves more than put things in luggage. so today we are buckling down and actually getting ready. i can't wait to be on that plane, bridging myself back to our families and all that snow. happy third night of hanukkah! happy almost-christmas!

{image via ffffound}

the round-up

beat-boxing flute anyone?!

these stole my heart

this print or this breathing analysis would make great gifts for your literary-minded buddies (Z bought me one of the first-edition kafkas last year!)

i've been impatiently awaiting this for years! i hope it has some killer cake or death moments

these melting notes are haunting & beautiful

a sweet ring, a rocking necklace, a delicate bracelet

the most incredible thesaurus which maps language in a more visual format (i couldn't live without it).

a glamorously everyday vintage find

leave it to a kick-ass poet to finally snag an etsy artist for a book cover

re-usable wrapping? yes please!

a scary but staggering video that's been floating around--it vibes off max ernst-style collage and weird animal-mythology (& i think one lady even borrows fornasetti's classic julia face)

today i am off to some silly souvenir shops for stocking stuffers (oh, the alliteration). it's hard to believe it's almost time to head back across the ocean for the holidays. i can't wait to see everyone (including my friend J's new little dot--i can't believe he's almost a week old!)

hall of mirrored delight

jan fabre glued 1.6 million jewel scarabs to the ceiling of this palace in brussels. the project, titled heaven of delight, took four months and twenty-nine assistants to complete. the enormous task of gluing was not done at random--there are specific patterns, animals, and initials found throughout. why beetles you ask? fabre opted for them as his medium in a nod to belgium's controversial colonial history. what a staggering outcome! (though i admit, i'm not sure how i feel about palaces in general. more on this later).

as if my brain had split

i am working on a piece that borrows a line from an emily dickinson poem as an epigraph. and right now, what with my own brain feeling a split & tired thing, the poem feels rather apropos. today was long and involved many many tube rides, buses, and transfers. but...i have officially been offered some guest lecturing for the spring. and a reading. what luck! so in celebration of poetics, i offer you dickinson's difficult beauty, her intense technical play and word prowess.

937

I felt a Cleaving in my Mind —
As if my Brain had split —
I tried to match it — Seam by Seam —
But could not make it fit.

The thought behind, I strove to join
Unto the thought before —
But Sequence ravelled out of Sound
Like Balls — upon a Floor.

{image via maggietaylor}

after travel unravellings

i have found that it is best to include one at-home day as part of your traveling plans. the day after you return is not the kind of day you should plan to do anything too serious. or anything that needs real energy. so yesterday was not spent unpacking or making lists to help us get ready for our travel home to the states. it was, instead, spent curled up in our warm duvets reading books; knitting christmas gifts and watching tv episodes. and, because it's not all just fun and games, it was also spent working on a first draft of a poem i started in lisbon. to me, minus our heating issues, it was the perfect post-travel day. and today--well, it's back to the grit and grind of real life.
(p.s. our internet is being spotty--so bare with late posted posts).

{image via thisisn'thappiness}

home is where the broken hearth is

Z & i returned home last night, safe and sound, around 1am. since check out at our pensão in lisbon was at 11:30am and our flight wasn't until 8pm we had been wandering around and carrying our luggage for what felt like eons. we couldn't wait to be home, tucking in to le petit bateau! but when we walked inside it was freezing--our flat as cold as an ocean. this morning we are bundled up (long underwear, hats, scarves, cowls, doubled-up socks) and waiting to hear back from our landlord. what is it with returning from trips to find some thing or other is not working?! maybe it's to keep our traveling elation in check.

in ten years

one of the things i love to do is imagine Z in ten years (or more). he's so handsome now, with his scruffle and untame-able curly black hair and glasses. and i super heart him as he does things like practice his conference talk. but imagining him as a tenured professor, giving lectures, coming home from classes all wind-blown and trench-coated (clearly we are living somewhere on the east coast in my mind)--well, that just catches my breath. Z is one of those guys you can tell will age well. so in ten years, i imagine professor Z like this man--feeling utter confident in his self and his purpose. and more matured (in both age and behavior!). swoon. i am a lucky gal.

we'll be back home this evening (super late). and i assume we'll be so tired we'll just hit the hay. so until tomorrow.

{via the sartorialist}

train stations as salve

one of my favorite places to visit in london is the train stations. the light & arch, the girders & bustle; the incredible sense of purpose that people possess while rushing about. train stations are as functional and awe-inspiring as indoor bridges, and as architecturally detailed as cathedrals. but in london, they are truly staggering. whenever i am feeling gloomy, i head off to st. pancras with a good book. i wander around amidst the travelers, sometimes stopping for a croissant and a glass of wine or hot cocoa. sometimes just gliding up and down the escalators on repeat. i imagine myself into other people and their lives. i invent their story or dream myself into their adventures. and the stress and sadness lifts off me, up into the beautiful vaults of the ceiling. this place houses some sensational stations. and i highly recommend a visit if you are feeling swallowed in the city's darks. (at home, wegmans was my tiffany's, with it's endless aisles and bright groups of food/boxes/people. everyone has to have a place that makes them feel that better things are going to happen).

cocktails & cars are good for partying

one of my favorite old-timey drink is the sidecar: a mix of brandy, orange liqueur, and lemon or lime juice. not only is it delicious, but it makes me feel like a flapper--especially when paired with red lipstick. (you can read some of the varying stories of where the drink's name originated here). but this past week i tried an incredible twist on the classic--a pear and cardamom sidecar at the old queen's head. and it was divine. there are many recipes out there to choose from--though i'd go with one that involves brandy rather than vodka. i hope you all rock your friday like you mean it!

avoiding the paper party (part two): tin ribbons

Z & i have a mini collection of typewriter ribbon tins that we purchased in various antique stores over the years (including the galaxy one above). they represent the writerliness of us both and our love of old-school attention to design. but vintage tins also make perfect houses for gifts--earrings or cuff links or small antique ornaments. and typewriter ribbon tins, in particular, would make fantastic holiday gift boxings for people. they'd also make great individualized thank yous to your bridesmaid/groomsmen/general wedding party, each of whom undoubtedly has a different style & personality. we would have used them for our wedding, but our giftings didn't quite fit! in any case, the tins are super easy to find on ebay--though much much more expensive than if you spend some time searching at flea markets or the like.

(man. sometimes i wish was there was a job where i could get paid to come up with new ways to re-use old items. i love the challenge!)

{images via uppercase}

avoiding the paper party (part one): canvasing

i am the first to admit that i am obsessed with wrapping paper. every year i find an exquisite roll and carefully use every centimeter of it--i love origami-esque creasing and secret circles of tape. i dig the challenge of working with super difficult paper (last year i chose something more like flocked wallpaper than wrapping). but this year, i'm thinking sustainable--for the environment & for cost--why pay for something that goes in the garbage? these DIY canvas bags would make rocktastic houses for gifts. instructions here.

(for the record, my paper love has nothing to do with my family. my parents long ago abandoned wrapping for re-usable and beautiful matryoshka-like boxes. every year they pull them out and just re-tag. way to go rentals!).

{via designsponge}

a factless autobiography

while traveling around this week Z & i are reading the book of disquiet, one of the most famous works by portuguese writer fernando pessoa. we chose the fragmentary disquiet over some of his other writing because we hoped it would allow us to read in fits and bursts while we scoped out the city (and some of the cafes where he wrote!). i'll let you know my thoughts when we return.

flying off into

this morning we are off to lisbon--a city of history & tiles, of elevators & hills, and of sun & deliciousness (apparently it's home of some incredible port!). lots of posts are scheduled to go up all week--so don't go anywhere. and feel free to leave comments as i will be checking my mail when i can--it's always nice to see your voices, both friends and strangers.

{image via tobyotter}

old life meet new life.

pictures might be happening in our near future! so this afternoon, with the possibility in sight, i actually let myself think a little about our wedding. the weeks leading up to it, while extremely stressful, were also a unique sort of moment in the snowglobe of our lives. there was sunning and friends and family. there was ithaca at the height of its gorgeousness (a word, now that i'm not living there, i can use!). there was our fireplace/ceiling/windows/walls filled up with garlands (if you click on the pic above, you will see just how papered our livingroom became). there was watching the sky lie down on the lake from our fifth story apartment. there was fireworks & balloon-views up on the illegally visited rooftop of our 1920s building (where nabakov lived for a while). there was anticipation bouncing between us.


and the pay off for all the work and stress and crazies was phenomenal. our wedding was rocktastic. it was truly the most Z&C sort of party we could have planned. we were grounded and untethered at the same time. our guests were all light and drinks and dancing (as evidenced by the picture above where you see we are mid-thriller). but while re-minding over all these things, what i felt wasn't nostalgia. it was the absolute fizz and bang of looking at the right now. and at all the future nows ahead of us. how far we have gone/will go in just the few months since we were married: from ithaca, to rochester, to toronto, to london, to paris, to birmingham, to lisbon, to toronto to home again. a whirwinding. a living. a life. and our relationship is changing alongside all the rush and individual beauty of these cities--shimmying and shifting in the electric space of travel as we craft a new section of our histories. which is all to say--i am grateful, even amidst new stresses, that we made this wild decision to pack up and head across the ocean. (though i do miss my family so much i tend to dream i am saving them from some ridiculous and not actually dangerous thing).

spektor expectations

everybody has one or two things that they prioritize in their budget no matter what. something that makes them feel their lives are more carbonated, more filled-up with light. for me, one of those things is music. i am a certified junky. i feel emotionally flat without it. so when we first moved to london (knowing we'd be living on a thin slice of a budget in a notoriously money-sucking city) we advance purchased tickets to a few concerts. that way, when the time came we wouldn't have to find the cashes to go. (we know ourselves so well). so today we are hitting the rails to birmingham to see this kickass lady perform. and i can't wait. shizam!

dates for things to be due

my friend J is due today. and she is so (!) ready for that baby to head on out into the world. since first babies tend to be late, i'm sending good waves her way. i can't believe in just a couple weeks Z & i will get to see two of our favorite buddies and meet their little owlet! he's sure-to-be super sweet and rebellious, just like his parentals.

{image via tobyotter}

the art of being there

yesterday i spent some more time at the tate, staring at a piece i want to write about (it will be my first ekphrastic poem). the only clue i'll give is its materials: oil, lead, dust and varnish on glass. it's the closest i've ever felt art come to a piece of poetry (on the page)--my brain clunk clunking as i try to unpack its images, to find some way to see and then connect its separate parts into a conceptual whole. but like poetry, i'm not trying to understand it. i want to get the feeling, to capture it at full speed. but i need more art vocabulary--words which suit the format. so i'm doing research inbetween the bore of applications. if there's any down time before tomorrow's deadlines (the evil-secretarial half of writing) i plan to watch this. it's one of my favorites. more later!

golden winter

Z & i made this soup last night for dinner and the leftovers today were even better. it's the perfect meal for a chilly afternoon. (we add a bit of hot spiciness to kick it up a notch, but that's up to you).

professional quiet.

this morning feels almost slow-motion in the freeze and crackle of our flat. i'm turning up the heat and digging down into writing (deadlines, deadlines). sometimes, writing makes for a pretty lonely profession (especially in a place where we know so few people). but most of the time, i thrive off all this quiet--the still of a snowscape, an empty city, stretched out in my mind.

{image via thisisn'thappiness}

hanging onto the vine

this tune was inspired by a 1964 magazine ad that claimed hunt's ketchup was a better brand because they urged their tomatoes not to despair, to hang onto the vine a little longer, to wait until they were absolutely ripe. my sister has called me little tomatoe forever (as seen in the last post's comments, and yes with an 'e'). this has become a running joke in my family because Z hates tomatoes with a passion.

i'm taking the rest of today and tomorrow off from the land of blog but i'll be back this weekend, so don't go away. happy thanksgiving statesiders! and happy thursday to the rest of you!

folding the fall into roses

this will be my first thanksgiving away from family. and part of me is grateful that i've made it this many years without being too far to travel back home. but the rest of me is feeling dreadful about missing out on the inaugural thanksgiving at N2's (my sister and hubs) new house, and all the raucous game-playing, food-eating, and general merriment that is sure to be had. even though my pop(rock) set up wireless skype for tomorrow--i wonder if it will just make me more jealous. hey! pass me some stuffing! so instead of endless dwelling on my food-family-sadness, i am dreaming up creative tablescapes. these origami maple leaf roses would be perfect natural centerpieces, don't you think? chuck in some (clean) feathers and you'd have a table topped with the bright & unexpected. check out the rose folding instructions here. maybe tomorrow afternoon i'll take a long turkeyed-up nap as my celebration.

(notice how i skipped over this holiday in my previous post? that's because with no t-day here, it's already all twinkling christmas lights and sugar-y carols in london!)

buying handmade

making things by hand and buying handmade things makes me infinitely happier than dealing with super-produced items. for the holidays this year, if you are into the gift-giving (as opposed to maybe a charity) why not consider taking the handmade pledge? Z & i are knitting up a storm & gluing ornaments like crazycats to get things ready for our families. even if you can't/don't have time to craft things yourself, etsy provides a ton of kick-ass options. for example, if you're looking for a twirly number for christmas eve why not check out one of the beautiful skirts by whitney deal (a.k.a. darling dexter) which i've been eying for eons--they're customizable in terms of size, color, flowers and fabrics. AND they're f-ing cooler, craftier, and cheaper than the jcrew one (second picture) which is just, well, more of a cookie-cutter-production. wouldn't you rather boost the economy by helping small businesses survive?

{via darling dexter}

1920s spies

Z & i have made some notoriously bad decisions when choosing places to stay on trips (um, the mask hovering above our bed with real teeth in paris was not so much with the sexy). and last night, pouring through lisbon hotel options, we got more than a bit overwhelmed. so when we read this description, it stopped us in our tracks: inaugurated in 1917, this hotel was a favorite haunt of spies and double agents during WWII. the individually styled and elegant rooms are partly furnished with original pieces from the 1920s and the whole building has a distinctly retro atmosphere. the balcony views across rossio are idyllic.
um, hell yes! we will be staying in the spy hotel.

{image via reflectingtruth}

saving your skull in style

in college i rode my mother's 1970s avacado racing bike everywhere. to classes. to work. to the middle of nowhere. to pedal off my stress. & i hate to admit that i never wore a helmet. (it is a small town and pretty much car-less). now, living in a city, i'm floored by the lack of helmeted heads. i mean, absolutely no one here wears a helmet! this in a city where they warn you that cyclists are more dangerous than drivers. (Z was hit by an oncoming bicycle the first month here. it did not go well). so why aren't there more sexy-cool helmets to help people get over their childhood feelings of geekdom and protect their heads? ruby's polkadot one is for motorcycling, but why not rock out its sleek retro design on your bike?! the furry luzern is straight-up doctor zhivago chic. and there's this one for the more everyday wear (heck you could add polkadots to spruce it up). in any case, there's some pretty good options.

this intriguing new book (on my research wishlist) talks about how the skull used to be so revered that people would steal famous ones for ransom! so why not protect yours?

{via oh joy! & yakkay}

sneaking down staircases.

right now, amidst serious stresses about recommendations and applications, i have moments of thinking woohoo! the time difference is sort of on my side (for instance, it's still only 1pm in the states). and this all works quite well until i realize that i've been working since 8am and will continue working here until midnight or later, because it will only be 8pm across the ocean. then i start to wish i was sliding down staircases in paris. anyone else having a monday frazzle?!

small batches of celebration

last night we took time away from our mad dash towards work deadlines and conference prep for a bit of celebration (afterall, i've been awaiting news on the grant since i applied in june!). this locally owned pub is two minutes from our flat, has a current special for delicious buy-one-get-one-on-the-house stonebaked pizzas, and an incredible alcohol selection. we took Z's parentals there when they were visiting for a game of scrabble (how rocktastic to go to a pub where they provide boardgames!) and we also took L for some good old-fashion, mid-afternoon, debauchery. it's the perfect quiet and dark setting for drinks and discussing what one should and/or shouldn't do with his/her lives. and last night we figured, why not let someone else cook so we can enjoy time we would usually use prepping and chopping for relaxing a bit? so we lounged like philiterati on the covetable vintage gentleman's couches and drank small-batch bourbon and beers (me on the bourbon, Z on the beer). we chatted poetics and plans and ideas for our futures. we ate and ate and ate. and then we came home and went back to the grind. which is where you will find us again (separately) this morning: heads down, work thoughts slow-rising off us like smoke.

knitting (up) a storm

it is loud & wild & wet outside today: slanted rain and pummeling winds. so i'm hanging inside, where it's dry and sort of warm. and less miserable. i'm reading and working and sending off job-related stuff and--(even though i never thought it would happen, because despite being a strong crafter i am extremely impatient with things i am bad at)--knitting. Z successfully taught me to knit! i sat in front of him and he put my hands in his and had infinite patience while i made miserable wobbly lines of wool. but we finished our first project friday and it's pretty rocktastic (N, it's for you!). so yeehaw. even if it is annoying to be bad at things, it's kick-ass to learn a new skill. i highly recommend. go go go! try something new.
and a happy dry sunday to you all!

{image via lawkevin}

trying it on for size: round-up!

::a fun tune to get you moving this friday.

:: a real life amelie-esque moment

::everyone could use some vintage-style laughs

::fall 2009 collection from last season's winner

::the perfect new year's headbands

::tiny envelopes are key

::a sunny (though expensive) way to write

::sweet cuffs

::this year, maybe being bad isn't such a bad idea

::faber commissioned some rocktastic jackets for poets, which are now in stores (i bought one when we moved to london, and it was accidentally pasted in backwards!)

::simplicity & luck make for beautiful jewelry

::sweetness + butcher's twine = the perfect hostess gift
(though graham crackers are hard to find in england!)

::apparently, antlers are all the rage at the moment (shed ones, that is). this kick-ass chandelier is in one of our favorite pubs, but i'd love it in my future home.


{image via m4r00n3d's & it'smaryruffle}

big news & traveling by tram

it's now official (as in we have tickets) so i can stop being a secret keeper. in two weeks we will be flying to lisbon! Z was invited to present a paper at a fancy conference (dealing with language and sentences and context). rock on! and i will be accompanying him on the adventure.

i'm both thrilled and terrifed. Z will be fully busy at least two days of the trip--meaning i will be out exploring and experiencing the city alone. and in case you hadn't guessed, i don't speak a lick of the language. but i'm filled up with fizz and light at the possibilities of things to do (like tramming around the city). i've been researching options and getting butterflies. sometimes it's good to be nervous, to get a heart-jumping start. does anyone have suggestions of things to do? to see? anyone know someone who has traveled to lisbon?! it's hard to believe a year ago i hadn't been anywhere farther than canada. and now, i will have seen parts of portugal, france and britain all before heading back to the states for the holidays. just the thought of more travel makes my veins sing.

{image via optical illusion}

photographing lonelinesses

my friend J has a real love for hopper paintings. so when i saw these photos by astrid kruse jensen, i thought of her. they capture a similar kind of feeling/moment: of alone-ness; of empty & filled selves; of waiting & expectation. (click to see them larger as they are rather dark). i am remembering being in J's apartment in ithaca and talking about hopper for the first time. i'm thinking of my favorite ladies and wishing them good things tonight! (dearest S, i hope DC is rocktastic!!)

{portfolio images via here}

worrying.

sometimes i worry that Z will feel sad that he married a writer instead of a fancy neurologist or someone who will make loads of moneys. or maybe that he wishes he married someone who was less heart-wild. i know this is ridiculous. because writing makes me me and money is not at all important compared to so many things. and being heart-wild is why he loves me in the first place. but still. today (especially because of my own good news) i feel like i need to be a better partner to Z. not in the least because he is so very good to me.

(for the record, even if i'm not a neurologist, i'm sure it doesn't hurt that i am super handy with a hammer and power tools and problem solving. and with paying our monthly williams. and things like that.)

{image via ffffound}

pirated hearts!

last night we saw coeur de pirate at the luminaire. it was fantastic and small and the sound was clear and pianoed. it was romantic and it cheered us up after a gloomy wednesday. i first heard coeur de pirate on myspace and since a full album wasn't out yet, i would leave the page open and listen on repeat. then, last march, a blogging father posted a time-lapse video of his son playing in the dining room and he chose the song ensemble for the soundtrack. and it just happened to be viewed over 800,000 on youtube (do you remember when this clip was all the rage?!). this chance event launched béatrice martin far outside the ears of montreal. so far out that last night she was in london singing her sweet and sad and cheeky tunes. and it was phenomenal. her album is the perfect background for writing. or wistful-ing. or cooking. or pretty much anything.

and when we got home, after months of waiting, i found out that i won a small grant for traveling and writing!!

the poetics of bridging

in 1988 john ashberry was commissioned to write a poem for a bridge designed by artist siah armajani in minneapolis. what a staggering thing--to be asked to line a bridge, for the structure to make your (line)breaks for you. and oh to be a pedestrian--to walk across all that air and light and read a poem. a real poem: not a society-safe or cutely rhyming piece, but a piece commissioned for this bridge whose language reaches across (and i mean the ambiguity here, i mean both the bridge and the words). yes, bridge poems are for me. and maybe for you. go see the whole shebang here as a slideshow which captures the feel of walking across.

ashbery's full untitled poem:

And now I cannot remember how I would
have had it. It is not a conduit (confluence?) but a place.
The place, of movement and an order.
The place of old order.
But the tail end of the movement is new.
Driving us to say what we are thinking.
It is so much like a beach after all, where you stand
and think of going no further.
And it is good when you get to no further.
It is like a reason that picks you up and
places you where you always wanted to be.
This far, it is fair to be crossing, to have crossed.
Then there is no promise in the other.
Here it is. Steel and air, a mottled presence,
small panacea
and lucky for us.
And then it got very cool.