Sissy Jupe

Music is Math

2012-01-23T17:06:00.000-06:00

As a language and literature nerd I have never fancied myself as one with a knack for numbers. In school growing up, I was always in advanced English, History, Science and Psychology classes while lagging one full year behind in Math. I was the student perpetually asking, "But why?! When am I ever going to use this?" lacking any foresight for practical application of the daunting equation. This is one part laziness (my part) but also I believe one part error of the school system. Math is never (or wasn't in my school district) taught conceptually. Conceptual, slippery language is what gets my brain riled up. Critical, theoretical analysis is what I latch onto and dissect slowly and meticulously, while taking joy in the puzzle's solution--solving the equation. You see? It's all Mathematics.

So maybe I'll make the excuse that Math wasn't presented on my terms and I therefore slumped my way though the courses in order to pass. BUT if my ignorant brain would have opened wider, if the Math metaphor could have been pressed a little harder, if I had looked beyond to see it's not about a particular formula, I would have had so much insight, so much sooner. Looking back on my years past, I think my one regret is the passivity which which I lived my life until I was 20 years old. I could have really had a head start if I had applied myself (ugh, cliche!). But I was smart, and I was on or above grade-level, and I was doing the work, and was always told that what I had done was good. I wasn't nagged at to try harder (with the exception of dance) and I didn't, I was comfortable. I wasn't really pushing myself, for myself, until halfway through college when I realized I wanted to be better, to be more, badly. I started to give a damn. I blame no one, I'm just saying I wish I had done it differently. I find solace in reading that Melville once wrote that he had not begun to live until he was twenty-five; that when Whitman was twenty-nine years old he had not yet written a single text that we now remember. But what if, what if, what if...

Life is Math. Problems without solutions perpetuate problems. You have a problem, you find your solutions (sometimes x=0 and x=1), you fix it. Done. In the most basic application to my daily life: it's walking my dog. My dog has social behavioral issues. Fears of strangers and children, especially on-leash. This can make going on a walk (not to the off-leash dog park) stressful for both him and myself. But these fears perpetuate themselves when we do not consistently practice walking in the busy city streets we live on. Submission/apathy/how does this apply to ME mentally is a severe regression in this case. Or dance class. The longer I stay out of class the more daunting and physically harder attending class becomes. Problems without solutions perpetuate problems. This concept is tendriling out into my thoughts, wrapping itself around the posts and climbing (beautiful, leafy vines) the lattice of my cortex. We can get-off making ourselves feel good in January by talking about the changes and resolutions we really intend to keep this time, but I'm interested in figuring out the practical application of solutions in my life. It's going to take some time, a lot of it. I know this. But I'm interested in my solution, even if/when I'm averaging 60 hours/week at work, even if time and money need strategizing to make it happen, even if, even if, even if...

What insight has the new year brought you?

Taking My Time {Oh, and Happy Holidays}

2012-01-15T19:31:00.002-06:00

So here we are, it's officially 2012! Our holiday season was busy in a good way. I am working a lot at the cafe and just taking it all in right now. My boss expressed to me his sentiments on the differences of his years in Paris and those in New York, "In Paris, I am all time thinking what I am doing next? But in New York it's never!" And as it turns out, that was a profound statement to me. In New York, there is always something, some errand, some this, some x, and if you happen to choose to stay home, watch Netflix and order delivery than it was an action done deliberately.

We are busy.

It's good. My body feels tired in a good way, my stresses are present but healthy, and we're staying busy taking advantage (when/where we can) of living in New York. Living in Brooklyn is living in a bubble. By this I'm just saying that Brooklyn is probably the only city in the world I can think of right now where you can make your entire living off of building moss terrariums inside of vintage lightbulbs, just sayin. Granted, I both live and work in the same neighborhood and am definitely saturated in the personality of Park Slope. This, in conjunction with the fact that I don't receive television channels, don't have a smartphone, have never downloaded an "app," don't subscribe to any magazines/newspapers, and don't have the radio exposure that came with driving I feel very cut off from what's going on out there. So I haven't been present online much either, but I've been observing and digesting and learning what I can, I feel present. My mind can wander so easily, it's nice to be part of something that's growing, that's new to me, and that I can feel present in. A few months ago I was writing of my hopes that someone would just take a chance on me, and I feel like now I have the opportunity to learn something new. Maybe it isn't glamorous, or maybe it is glamorous? But that's not the point. I know that in college I thought running a cafe in Brooklyn sounded amazing. And as it turns out I do like it, and that's been great to find.

Happenings:

In December we went to the Apollo Theater in Harlem to see Anthony Hamilton.

It was one of my favorites I've seen in New York. The show had more energy than I have seen for a concert in a long time. It was so refreshing, and it dawned on me that from my balcony seat I really didn't see any cell phones out. It was shocking, and awesome! People, enjoying themselves, in their physical location and condition without the gross display of exhibitionism that usually accompanies a social event.* His slow, low rhythm and blues was amped up with some funk beats for the live performance. Despite the very tight seating there was a lot of dancing to the infections rhythms flowing into the space.

For Christmas Eve, we got before dinner drinks at the Clover Club in Cobble Hill. The Clover Club is the home of one of the best Bloody Mary's and my new favorite cocktail thanks to our excursion that Saturday. We sat in the back next to the fireplace in high backed chairs drinking Nose Dive's (gin royales) and laughing about what we're doing now and where we have been the last few years together. We trained into the city and ate dinner at Tamarind, again. I still think it's the best Indian Food I've had yet. I hear they have a new(ish) downtown location but we always end up at the one near the Flatiron. Afterward we hopped on the subway and hitched ourselves uptown to the stand by line for Dizzy's jazz club where Jazz at the Lincoln Center plays. Luckily we got in for the 930 show and finished up our night with coffees and really nice Jazz quintet. We came home and opened the small gifts we had gotten for one another and for Cash and snuggled up for bed.

Christmas day was spent mostly at home. I cooked breakfast and dinner. A girl I work with and her boyfriend came over for dinner in the evening. We had guacamole and pico de gallo, hummus, sun dried tomato risotto, mashed potatoes, honey cumin roasted carrots, pomegranate apple green salad, and roasted pork loin. My goodness, it had been a while since I had cooked so much. I even attempted to make orange rolls but gave up after the second rising. It took days to clean my very tiny kitchen afterward. Luckily all the things that did get cooked, roasted, or baked turned out and washed down rather nicely with a good Burgundy. Christmas night I purchased tickets for us to go see the Alvin Ailey company perform which was a real treat. Unlike the Anthony Hamilton show, I don't know if I have ever been to a performance where so many cell phones went off. It was strange, rude and distracting, unfortunately. Afterward we walked to Rockefeller Center to see the tree, to Bryant Park to see the ice skaters.

Our New Year is flying by. We rang in midnight very tiredly at an Austrian pub about a block from home. Working so much, things begin to blur together. We made sure to fill my only day off (Darling was on winter break from school) with as many good things as we could fit into one day. With a clean house we took off for a shmancy lunch at Asiate located on the 35th floor of the Mandarin Hotel in Columbus Circle. Afterward, we caught a cab to the East Side to see the incredible Maurizio Cattelan hanging exhibit at the Guggenheim. If you haven't heard of it you really should look into it (copy + paste + google). It was such an innovative and cool way to experience his work. What a trip.

We were kicked out for closing around five and we walked down to Magnolia Bakery to buy treats to sneak into the move theater. Pumpkin Spice Whoopie Pie, what? We went to the historic Paris theater to see the new silent film, The Artist. It was one of the most enjoyable movies I've sat down to watch in a really long time.

We saw John Turturro and Diane Wiest in Chekhov's The Cherry Orchard. I haven't ever read Chekhov, Russian literature just hasn't made itself the next appealing thing to me yet but the performance was powerful. We saw the play at Classic Stage Company in the East Village on an intimate, small stage. The audience is only 4 rows deep with a 3/4 view so the choreography of the actors was made interesting from all vantage points. It was funny and tragic and, paradoxically, in constant motion although the majority of the show takes place in a single room within the house. As I get older I just find myself enjoying live theater more and more. I suppose it could be argued that New York has the highest quality for shows and actors, it's unbelievable, and I feel lucky to experience it.

We've had fun planning out short-term milestones for the new year. Little rewards tucked into the weeks ahead. Theater tickets and concert tickets and visits from friends. Birthdays and breaks from school and bottles of wine for sharing. I have actually began to write many posts but completing the thought seems to happen only after something else has called me away from the computer and onto another task. I'd like to keep sharing and writing, but more organically. I'm sure that will work itself out... organically, duh. On another note, I don't have a working digital camera anymore but have been thinking about using my SLR more often (i.e. sometimes). I'd like a few photographs from this time in my life. Not a daily documentation but I think it's nice to see the evolution of yourself, especially during periods of rapid growth. Remembering where you are coming from iso what makes where you are going meaningful. The freezing moment of a photograph is a way to help the self process exactly what it has been doing, as it forces the viewer to have the space and distance necessary to digest experience and change. I think this same philosophy pertains to the tattoos people have. Cemented moments, reminders of growth and change. Cameras, go.

I say this, but I know I'm the person to wait three years to get film developed. I just mailed out my family's Christmas packages Thursday. I'm just not emotionally equipped for some of these adult tasks. But it's a thought bustling through my brain. I'll keep chewing on it and see if anything materializes.

The best to you and yours for now. Hope the holidays were smooth. I'm going to make breakfast for dinner. Good talking to you.

*"omg!! guess where I am RIIIGGGHHTT NOWWW!! omg, no wait! I am just gonna take a picture and post it RIGHT NOW so you can see what bitchen time I'm having RIGHT NOW." And really, you aren't having the bitchen time because you aren't doing anything but fiddling with your phone and making sure you look good enough for an instantly public photo. I don't know. I don't mean to stray too far, and I admit to anyone out there reading, I acknowledge my own participation in it. I have a Facebook page, I'm writing this very statement on my public blog but I think we all know what I'm talking about.

In this same vein, please take a look at this thought provoking NYTimes article I saw a friend posted recently. The Joy of Quiet:

"We have more and more ways to communicate, as Thoreau noted, but less and less to say. Partly because we’re so busy communicating... The central paradox of the machines that have made our lives so much brighter, quicker, longer and healthier is that they cannot teach us how to make the best use of them."

Place

2011-12-15T15:56:00.001-06:00

Prospect Park, Brooklyn

Utah

Northern Arizona

Wyoming

Mississippi River

"I think we fall in love with places for the same reason we fall in love with people. And our reasons are irrational and passionate and hard to explain. And sometimes when we fall in love with a place it becomes part of us forever." Lori Anderson

*Images via Pinterest

The Thankful Post

2011-11-29T01:25:00.002-06:00

Image via Unbroken Sparrow

Although I have not spent Christmas with my family for the past three years (this year makes four), I have always spent Thanksgiving at home. This year was the first that I haven't been in Utah for Mom's cooking, celebrating my favorite holiday. Because it would be utterly wrong to say that my favorite Thanksgiving wasn't home cooked, I won't; but we ate one of the best meals I've ever had at Gotham Bar and Grill in Manhattan Thursday night. It was a 4 course extravaganza: butternut squash soup, roasted cauliflower risotto, turkey and sour cherry stuffing with mashed potatoes and root vegetables, alongside one of the best red wines (an Oregon Pino, of course) I have ever touched to my lips. We polished it off with dessert, a sampler that included apple crisp, chocolate, and pumpkin cheesecake with an espresso to finish it off. Aye Chihuahua, it was ridiculous.

Much has changed since my last writing. I'm now managing a small French cafe here in Brooklyn and still learning the ropes of how to make orders and run things there. I can't tell you if I've lost my mind or not, but I recently turned down job at a graphic design firm with a 40k salary and full health coverage to stay and run the spot. Of course, a job offer through the temp agency only came after I had accepted employment in a place and with a boss that I really like, but I'm glad things are working out the way they are. Although the people working in the office were nice, I feared I would be too isolated and lonely--literally working without coworkers or windows, a white wall separating me from the rest of the office. Just typing the previous sentence depresses me. Where can you draw the line of money and happiness? Even if it's not true happiness, at what dollar amount can you be bought out for, do you put things (possibilities) on pause for, because "it's a good job" because it's available, because you feel pressure to conform to some lifestyle you are not ready/willing/desiring to lead? If not knowing or connecting with people in New York has been one of the big challenges for me in adjusting, working in an isolated situation like that didn't feel like the right choice. I am still paying my bills, it's not that I'm being irresponsible for the pursuit of a naive, twenty-something idealism where money doesn't matter and all you need is love. I live in New York now, money takes on a whole new meaning for what it costs to live in this town. But I know I really won't be happy sitting behind a desk all day and that even if it takes more work, more hours, more creativity I can figure out something else and still be successful. So the cafe it is, for now. I do really like my boss and it's rapidly turning into much more opportunity than I imagined would come out of the cafe job I decided to apply for after I returned home from my trip to Utah. It's a nice feeling, my life is simple and good. I love that although I'm living in a huge city, my world is contained and close and neighborhood oriented. It's comforting. Walking to work is amazing and I'm 90 seconds away from the little puppy boy should anything need to be taken care of with him. (Sometimes that dog makes me feel like such a mother.)

Fun New York-y things have been happening also, Jazz at the iconic Village Vanguard in the East Village last Saturday night and Chris Cornell played at Carnegie Hall last Monday. Cornell's voice is amazing, he played a solo acoustic set of songs from all of the projects he has been a part of (Soundgarden, Audioslave, Temple of the Dog, solo work). For people of my generation that are interested or concerned with contemporary music, I feel like there is a list of artists you should see if you have the chance--those who have changed and influenced the way people play and write music. For my parent's generation rock artists like Page and Plant, Dylan, Pete Townsend, Brian Wilson, Jimi Hendrix (to name a few) are on the list. For my generation, I think a parallel list includes Chris Cornell, Eddie Vedder, Dave Grohl, Jack White, Thom Yorke and Johnny Greenwood, etc. I don't think it's necessary to be a fanboy to appreciate the work and talent of these artists. It was a great night, really cool to see Cornell live, and so incredible to see something at Carnegie. The space and sound quality are amazing, beautiful. I can't wait for the winter season of philharmonic, symphony, theatre, and dance to begin. All the best work is put on in winter, when people want to be inside. I truly can't think of a cold evening better spent than in the theater.

And now the part about gratitude. I am so well taken care of. I have so much. And although some days feel hard, I understand that I am truly spoiled in my comfort and opportunity--my problems are first world concerns and that is the most anyone can ask for. I'm so lucky that Darling will put up with my tomfoolery, he's the best support I have ever known. He really takes care of me. I'm grateful for our families and sisters. For the love of a sweet dog named Cash, and the patience he has taught me. For my experiences living in such different parts of the country. For my home girls in Memphis that I can't imagine not having in my life, the most generous friends. For the friends in Utah that have really stuck it out with me, long-distance, some of you 15 years now! For the words and wisdom and stories of authors. For art in all of its facets. For learning. For the awesome, beautiful-beyond-comprehension planet we live on and the cultures of animals and people we share it with.

And it is on this note I bid you adieu for now. I will hopefully have more time to write and reflect now that things are finding a rhythm. Maybe even some photos.

Thank you Friends, for your support.

All my best.

"Does anybody really represent anymore?" - Lil John

2011-10-31T12:11:00.001-05:00

Like any other relationship it is complex and malleable and defining. Artists, writers, creators have historically been conflicted and challenged by their relationship with home. I find it hard to articulate while, paradoxically, it has utterly and profoundly shaped and defined who I am, inescapably so. For years I tried to run from it, throw it from my shoulders and my speech and carefully remove it from my foundation, piece by piece, like a tedious game of Jenga. But as in the game it only proves to make the structure unstable. It may be the distance in time and space, it may be getting older, but beyond appreciating it I'm learning to accept and even to miss it. For the first time my mind wondered, "could I ever really live here again?"

Wide-eyed, quiet, I couldn't pull my gaze from the windows. Mountains, sublime in the Romantic Epic Poetry sense, rising guard from all directions. I saw the sunset, I saw the stars. Home. I have found myself recently saying, "I really wish I wasn't from Utah becuase I think one day I'd like to live there," encapsulating my own conflict in its simplest form. Is it everyone everywhere, or is it concentrated in the West? Our relationship with the land? "Sublime" is not intended hyperbole, this is the meat of Stegner, of Williams, of Abbey, of Steinbeck. I feel a tangible security and wonder in that landscape. Although it's comfortable, for the first time in my life my mind has difficulty grasping the visionary expanse. Lack of such vast views once overwhelmed me with claustrophobia. I wanted to plant my hands in those wide, old oaks and crash my head above the canopy suface, gasping to breathe the view. Now I feel dizzied by the open space... I almost didn't go. I packed a bag when I should have been calling a car, I wore the same clothes all week. The sight of the land drew my broken-down body to appreciate an ease of life I'm familiar with, made it delicious, although I also know it is not what I want right now. Distance is a funny thing, the way it stirs and toys with your emotions.

I'm not so naive to quickly forget that the difficulties there are just different from those here in New York. My daydreaming hasn't gotten the best of me just yet. Trying to process the reality of packing a truck and moving life back to Utah? My hometown?? That sounds hard. It's a choice, then, as to which set of troubles you'd rather take on in the moment. Looking side by side, the juxtaposition of where I come from and where I am now is mind bending. It's no comparison (flamingos or dish soap?), and each makes sense in my longing. Although I've been very challenged, I haven't given up hope that I can make it here in the city. Last week just happened to be exceptionally hard. I'm still learning about the balance and order of things here. The good days are the best, and in parallel energy the bad days can really blow. I'm going to stay positive. I still believe that I can find my niche.

Most frequently I am asked, "How long do you think you'll stay in New York?" and truthfully I can't answer that. I just got here. But I still feel in my bones I'm a Western girl.

Where do you find home?

Bad Dream {Reality}

2011-10-25T13:12:00.000-05:00

Images 1 and 2 from plastic-sfoonss.xanga.com; image 3 from everyeskimo

Coney Island + Columbus Day

2011-10-21T09:28:00.002-05:00

One of the last summer days.

Yesterday on the train I noticed that not only the warmth from the air, but the color from wardrobes vanished this week. The seasons are turning, I've never seen so many neutrals. I suppose it's better than the blackness that coats the city (head to toe) come winter, I'm not ready to go there just yet. I am enjoying the graceful fall shift, it's getting really cozy and pretty out here in that iconic Autumn in New York kind of way.

We had Columbus Day off and we decided to take advantage of the unexpected high temps and head for the beach. I had hopes that Coney Island would be hokier, instead it just felt like a run down Venice Beach or Santa Monica Pier. It had this weird, janky California vibe to it. Absolutely bizarre to imagine we were so close to home, we felt so far out. It's pretty amazing that you can jump on the train in your neighborhood and jump off at the beach though, eh?

Nathan's hot dogs, naps in the sand, tide wading.

Next time we'll be prepared with a blanket, some books, and a proper picnic.

Sissy Jupe Turns Three

2011-10-20T10:35:00.003-05:00

Hi. How's it goin?

Yes, yes, I'm still here. Although nothing in my life feels settled and everything has undergone major changes in the last four months, my first thought is to say that things are just the same around here. That's weird, but true. (This is why the kids need to stop watching so much television.) I feel that today I should pay some dues to this blog. After I began typing up the post, I realized that I missed my third year blog birthday/anniversary by seven days. Have I really been writing in this space for three years? That's the second weird but true statement in seven measly sentences...

Although myself, my writing, and content sharing have undergone many transitions (more than I've probably ever let on) since its inception, this blog has served to connect and reconnect me with people. It's strange and amazing, and at times those shared moments were what I was looking for. This past weekend I was visited by a thoughtful, kind, friend (she writes a beautiful blog) who, in a past life, came to my 12th birthday party (where, she reminded me, we scrapbooked for our activity 1. This is on the list of things that reveal where I grew up and 2. This also let's you in on just how cool I was in middle school. I appreciate that anyone humored me enough to show up). As someone who hasn't kept in touch with more than a handful of people from the past, who hasn't lived in the same area for long enough to run into folks, I have to ask myself how does that even happen? Oddly enough, my answer is: through blogging. I hadn't seen her in over seven years, our lives are different as can be, and hanging out for four days felt totally normal. This I credit to the realness in the connections of shared writing. Real enough to show up at your door at 7AM on a rainy Thursday.

Writing is one of the most intimate ways to communicate. It's why reading the book is always better than watching the movie. When done honestly and intentionally, it's like standing stripped and naked before your audience. On the receiving end it feels like a quiet, trusted secret, a baring of souls. I think people are exponentially more self-conscious of this as they comfortably build up the safety buffers in their highly-edited, retouched, contrived, online profile lives. I am pressed to think of a time I've seen a person more panic stricken than when someone was about to read what they had written without permission. In my school days, the majority of my peers would never allow anyone to edit their papers. They weren't as concerned with becoming better writers as they were with maintaining their dignity in privacy. Countless notes scrawled with the sacred, "For your eyes only" have passed through my fingertips, the smudged contents carefully read only after they had been wedged safely in the shelter of a dark desk. This process of externalizing what is inherently internal draws human hearts together.

So it was because of idea sharing and emailing that I spent all weekend like a 15 year old girl, staying up until 2AM chatting and laughing about the serious and the nonsensical. I spent days wandering villages and parks and neighborhood shops, seeing the buildings and writings and art of the geniuses we admire. We spent hours in cafes and restaurants indulgently snacking on the buttery, the fatty, the bready. (One night I only ate cheese for dinner...)

I know I don't make a very good guide to the city as I'm still getting lost all the time. Couple that with all the weekend construction and you'll see that a few of the plans were foiled, but for me, the change in pace and socialization was so enjoyable. The blog once again providing just what I was looking for. And on that note I thank you, Sissy Jupe. You've been awfully sweet to me.

Tell me, why do you blog or read blogs?

“Life doesn't imitate art, it imitates bad television.” ― Woody Allen

2011-10-11T14:44:00.000-05:00

{View from the roof of the Met. What a beautiful, Indian Summer day}

Sunday we went to the Met. I really love the Met for its hushed elegance. As I have more opportunities to indulge in high-art experiences my awareness increases and I realize that I love paintings. My words may mean very little as I have no formal training or education in art or art history but here I'm just speaking of perceptions. I believe it's something in the creation process, the physical force of the hand moving the brush across the canvas, pushing the little mounds of color into form translates to a tangible motion still evidenced (sometimes hundreds of) years later. This is why paintings feel alive while photographs serve to encapsulate a past moment.

I find it bewildering then, that hoards of tourists run around the museum frantically to snap photos of anything by anyone with a name they (kind of?) recognize. Two snaps for each work. Click. Click. One for the work itself and one for its description plaque. Firstly, all van Gogh's are not created equally. Isn't the point of the museum to experience the museum? Look Up! For the tiny display view on the back of your camera is no way to connect! Is it the insatiable desire of humans to consume, obtain, to have that causes this manic, incessant snapping? I would think if you needed to have a specific work you love the best solution would be a high quality print. So it appears that it's not that you can't live without this image but that you're looking for a mediator between your physical person and the location/experience. As if you can take all of it home with you and experience it there, where you're comfortable in your computer chair, when you "have more time?" Why not just spend a few hours on google? Why go all the way to the Upper East Side of New York, then? Why must you see all of it? You can't convince me that seeing more things rapidly is a better experience than being startled by a few stand-out works. Because, ah, you miss so much (the entire point) of Picasso when you view it on a screen made up of flat pixels, no matter the resolution. The unabashed boldness is lost, compressed. You miss the neuroticism and obsession of the impressionists. And all of the theatrical drama of light and darkness which separates the good from the truly awesome.

I'll try to spare you some of my opinions on the audio tours but feel inclined to state here that I find those ridiculous also. There are plenty of resources to further study something that strikes you, but why must you have a recorded voice in your ear, mediating for the mind and the eye, telling you what is good and why you should like it? It's so simple: do you like it, or don't you? Please have the courage to make the choice. I think that audio can be interesting for artifacts, or say, historical places but I advocate saving your money, takeing what you like, and going on your way while leaving the rest.

And all this has got me thinking, about what it is we (I) want to take away from our experiences. Recently I've felt a void of a certain fervor for something, anything. I hate to use the word passion because I feel its one of those words that got over-played and has now lost its meaning, but I want desperately to feel that hot flush of drive toward something specific. And feel it intrinsically, unmediated, off-leash (if you will) where the reward for the action is the action itself. (Gah, and now you begin to see why I love Whitman.) I know I've always had more passive-aggressive tendencies, but am I really so passive? Do I have unrealistic expectations? Can I be critical of others' passivity, then? How much is the object of drive a choice and how much of it happens to find you through experiences and twists of fate? Am I growing out of my idealistic twenties when I once thought there was beauty in simplicity and everyone else's problem was that they had complicated it all too much (surely I knew it all)? I hope (and seek) this awkward time to be just the ground work for a real creative out lash.

I love good writing, I love dancing, choreography and live performance, I find cooking to be cathartic but it's been awhile since I've felt really empowered. I want my boots knocked off.

What makes you feel empowered enough to look up?

what is there to say?

2011-09-26T20:06:00.000-05:00

Image via Pinterest

Kick her when she's down, easy target. Some jerk stole my pretty blue bike today.

#sometimeslifeisrough

Growing Pains {The Adjustment Period}

2011-09-25T02:39:00.000-05:00

Hi friends. The lack of posting isn't necessarily for lack of things to say, sometimes I'm not sure where to start. This week was a rough one, it's coming down to the missing feeling of place in this city. It prompts me to recall vividly the growing pains I experienced upon moving to Memphis... This blog has been a weird evolving process, certainly for at least the first year of its inception I wasn't writing anything too personal--whatever that means. (Of course the content is still edited down but it's now become a journaling/documentation of sorts.) A lot of my emotional experience of that time remains undocumented. It was rough, more lonely than this go around, but I do feel parallels to the growing pains and adjustments that come with calling a new locale, "home." I attribute my negativity this week to really disliking the work and office I'm temping in multiplied by the exponent of "x" also known by its scientific classification as represented by the acronym pms... so there's that. In Memphis, I was so lucky to find Project:Motion. It was a space where I could belong and contribute and be challenged and do something utterly selfish, to benefit myself and do it for the good of my soul. My place, for me. I understand to find this takes time, but this week my patience feels tried and tired. Darling on the other hand feels like he finally fits in where he lives, not only does he take less time to adjust to his surroundings, but New York, specifically, seems to be an excellent fit.

I'm also still searching for the driving force of what I'd like to do in that grander, commit-to-something-and-give-it-everything-you've-got kind of way. I need to do some soul searching, and soon. It's difficult to be so unsatisfied professionally and still have no solid dream to replace it. I dream of something finding me, that if I just say "yes" to the things that come my way surely the doors will continue to open and it will lead to something fulfilling, I also have the sneaking suspicion that things don't necessarily happen that way. Actually, my experience since graduating college tells me that those things only happen once you've begun to proactively seek things out, so where does one start? When I dig deep down and talk through it with Darling it keeps looking as though I'm really searching for an occupation that for all intents and purposes doesn't actually exist. How then, can I make something meaningful for myself, or expose myself to something to get invested in? The truth is that I love to work and love to feel invested in what I'm doing. I hate jobs that don't provide enough to do, or work that is understimulating, underwhelming--we've all had that job, where the brain begins to feel affects of atrophy set in. I believe I have never heard it said so articulately or poignantly as Harold Bloom as when he coined this feeling, "the search for difficult pleasure." Satisfying, empowering, fulfilling...

I cannot say (nor am I trying to) that I haven't been having a good time since moving because we've been so fortunate to find a good home and explore and enjoy so much in the short time we've been here. But a lot of light has been shed into "real life" in NYC since getting into working mode. Feeling no ownership, no sense of belonging or community. It's only been a taste of the good and hard things to come, it makes me worry for all the heed of warning I received before moving about the first year in New York as such an ass kicker. I raise this glass of Burgundy next to me to you, fair lady, as I understand it you don't take kindly to the faint of heart, I'm up for a challenge, but I do ask, "please be kind."

How do you articulate and solidify your dreams?

Observations

2011-09-19T13:57:00.001-05:00

"In life you give but in chess you take. Unfortunately, people live life as in chess..."

- Man challenging for a chess game in Washington Square Park

Steve Earle with The Dukes and Duchesses

2011-09-15T20:32:00.042-05:00

Last Wednesday evening, Darling and I saw Steve Earle play at the Music Hall of Williamsburg. Like Whoa. Darling says it was his favorite of the shows we've seen since moving here. I can't really say I'm up for ranking experiences right now as, truthfully, I'm just enjoying them as they come. The music was fantastic, and the band had a tangible chemistry--exuding how much they really enjoy what they do and who they're doing it with (and that, ultimately, is what we want from our lives, correct? How to achieve this is specifically what weighs on my mind more than anything else right now). The longest single band set I've seen in a very long time, they played for nearly 3 hours! The talent and level of musicianship was top notch, the band was made up of 3 smaller projects, also doing their own things, and there was play in the set to highlight and feature each of them "in old bluegrass fashion" as Mr. Earle pointed out. They broke only for intermission, at which point Darling and I moved closer to the stage while everyone else went for beers. This eventually lead to me standing directly at the feet of the lead guitarist. I'm not really a "front row person," I can't tell you the last time I was so close to live musicians, but being so close to the instruments was amazing. I was absolutely mesmerized watching the hands skillfully and knowingly handle the instruments. I had this overwhelming feeling of wanting to play with them, an envy of their talents, an envy of their opportunity to perform, an envy of their doing what they love to do. In reflection these last few days, it's a feeling that has stuck with me...

I can't wait to pick up Mr. Earle's novel, just recently released. Catching him on The Wire, Treme, on stage and now in paperback? What a cool dude. Although this isn't my first song choice, it's the highest quality video I have the patience to find right now, enjoy.

Compassion

2011-09-09T21:01:00.000-05:00

I imagine that we've all had a friend or at least made a connection with someone that has it, whatever it is. A magnetism. Someone that sees the world with amazing insight, someone who is equally (genuinely) as giving and humble as they are talented and creative. They are an artist in everything they do. They see goodness in everyone. They make you feel interesting and listened to. That person that you want to sit with for hours on end, and pick their brain, feel true connection, laugh till your cheeks ache (in the sour spot) and allow conversations to wander into the hidden and difficult places to express. With them you see new definitions of beauty and humor and pain and love. It usually seems that you are not the only one who gets this about them, that everywhere you go others are equally as drawn, and no one ever has anything but love to express for that person.

I have this friend. I've stated to him before that I feel so lucky that the time and place was right for us to meet. That we hit it off so well. He was the one who would encourage me by dropping in to take the dance classes I was teaching at UVU and UofU. The one who would call me to perform with him. Who makes me laugh and laugh and laugh. The one who came over every night after I put Fosse (my cat) down--simultaneously one of the most difficult and profoundly lonely periods I've been through, to pick me up, take me out, stay in for long talks and glasses of wine, and help me get ready to move across the country. He always makes time for me when I travel home to Utah and between those visits I look forward to long telephone conversations of catching up while we live far apart.

Imagine then, Darling browsing online to see how the Utes (our alma mater) did in their football game and see instead, that this person, so dear to me, had been the victim of a violent hate crime. He was attacked at work for being gay.

My heart sunk. I felt sick and confused. My mind felt heavy and fuzzy. Although there was no questioning the name or description I sent a text message anyway, "Please tell me it isn't you I'm reading about. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, I'm shaken, but I'm okay."

I still can't wrap my mind around it, thoughts of worry and sadness and confusion have overwhelmed me. How could such disgusting acts of violence and bigotry manifest themselves so adversely to someone I care for? Who suffers from such deep lack of compassion for others? There is no excuse, nothing solicits that kind of behavior. Who could ever hurt Cam? I mean seriously, EVER? I wish I could wrap him in my arms and ball up all the love in the universe and blast it through his veins, direct delivery into the body for healing. I know his physical wounds will heal much faster than the emotional ones. I know he is receiving an outpouring of love (I can't even leave a voicemail because the mailbox is full) but I also know how difficult it can be to see past the negative impact. I hope he is okay. I am having a hard time understanding it all.

If you see this post Cam, I love you. We're thinking about you and loving on you day and night.

Rock The Bells

2011-09-07T22:04:00.000-05:00

Saturday past, Darling and I ferried our butts over to Governor's Island to enjoy the day long hip hop festival Rock The Bells. The morning had proved a tough one for me, I wasn't exactly in spirits to be doing much but I had been looking forward to the event since before moving. I packed a bag of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and bottled water, of course I forgot a camera, and we made our way to the Battery to do some waiting in line. Although I was excited to visit Governor's Island, the charting of 20,000 people to location via ferries isn't exactly what I would call the most user friendly (?? patron-friendly, but that sounds redonkulous) idea. I've never seen Jersey Shore but I imagine I got the homegrown taste of its subject matter while in that line. Klassy folks, friends, cut in line directly behind me... lets just say it took, awhile. So we missed a few sets that we had hoped to catch glimpses of, although nothing major. We spent waay too much money and time waiting for fresh squeezed lemonade (ugh, but who can turn it down on the last Saturday of summer, outside, at a festival??) but coupled with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a little shady spot things turned up a bit, just before miss Erykah Badu took the stage.

Badu's performance was as fierce as her outfit. I've seen Miss Badu once before (in Salt Lake City) and her performance energy is incredible. I believe that no one is having a better time than Erykah, and the influence feeds and transports her audience. If you are unfamiliar with the festival, its basic premise is classic artists, classic albums. She put it on with 1997's Baduizm. Whoa nah. (Boom clack, boomclack)

We stuck it out for the stage breakdown and setup and sidestepped our way as close to the front and center as the GA could be for the next set, put on by Ms. Lauryn Hill.

Friends, I don't know if I can really convey to you in this post how long I've loved The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill, or how much I wanted to be Lauryn Hill when I was younger (but it did include convincing my mom to buy me some knock off Timberlands. You remember the 90s, yes? They had the Alex Mack vibe which is why I think she actually got them for me but I was definitely going for more of a Rita in Sister Act 2 kind of ensemble. Too much? I digress.). The album was reworked, the songs done in a new style but Ms. Hill sounded fantastic. She was a bit preoccupied with the band (too loud? too quiet?) and her earpiece was obviously not working properly so there was some stalling and lag time, I wouldn't call it "seamless." Things loosened up at the end of the set when she treated everyone to some "Fugeela," at which point everyone sort of lost their shit, only for Pras to join her on stage for "Ready or Not" and finally, "Kiling Me Softly." It seriously blew my mind to see these two beautiful, talented, influential females do their thing. To say the least, my mood had dramatically shifted from earlier that morning.

At the close of the set it we had to push ourselves out of the crowd for alllllll the duudes (where were they the rest of the day?) were swarming the stage for Nas. Sausage. Fest. Do I need to tell you I'm not a big Nas fan? Okay, so there's that. And although Darling can jam to some Illimatic we were on the same page. Those guys roll 16 people deep, it becomes everyone's cousin and best friend from elementary school on stage and I feel like it'd be really fun to be a part of, but much less enjoyable as a live performance. We cut from the set early to try and make the ferry before the masses funneled onto the little boats back to the city. Lady liberty with the Manhattan night skyline for a backdrop? One of those electric moments when you cannot tell if you are really inhabiting your body, seeing with your eyes, knowing you stand where your feet hold you. Do I live here?

Come On Irene... {Part Five)

2011-08-28T13:24:00.001-05:00

- This week I started my second temp gig. This time it's grunt work for the financial sector. Although the work is all but glamorous, the location for this job has so far made it worth while. Going to work has been the romanticized New York City experience that I believe is the image conjured in most people's minds when that name is spoken. My commute to work begins with taking the F train to Rockefeller Center and walking past Radio City and Top of the Rock, past much high-end shopping, through Rockefeller Plaza and its daily summer farmer's market to Madison Ave. The office sits between Madison and Park, between St. Patrick's Cathedral and the Waldorf Astoria. My ears pop in the elevator ride up 28 floors and once I get there I've got a prime view of the Empire State Building out the office window. Temping will be cool (for a while) if only for allowing me to learn about areas of the city I might not otherwise have any reason to be in.

- Friday night I got the chance to see someone I've been waiting on for years.

Darling got us tickets to see Cat Power take the stage at Webster Hall near Union Square. The space was intimate and lights were kept dark, only a few bulbs illuminated the band on stage while Chan took to the corner, oftentimes facing the band and shying away from the audience completely. I had heard reports of her canceling or cutting shows early due to stage fright but I've never seen such shyness from a lead singer. Virtually no crowd interaction, no "Hi"'s or "thanks for coming out tonight"'s, just singing, but damn she does it so well. The band played a full set, nearly 2 hours, leaving out the most recognizable songs and choosing instead to fill in with covers of Nico and Fleetwood Mac. I've been a big fan of her's for years, I knew she would be great to see live, but I didn't anticipate that her smoky, sultry voice could be so immense and full and dimensional and soulful. I've never been to a conventional concert (standing, in a bar) that was so beautiful--shivers swelling up and down my body. If she played more often I would see her again and again.

- Constant talk of Hurricane Irene. That's what's been happening in the most recent news.

I do not intend to dismiss those that have been severely affected by the storm, and my heart goes out to those families, but I feel like it's necessary to state that New Yorkers are so dramatic about everything (that could and probably will be it's own post). The news and press coverage has been soo dramatic but I don't think anything is more true than the list comparison above ^^ people here are worried about going to the liquor store and having enough hummus and dvd rentals. The Park Slope Patch email this morning stated something about Brooklyn continuing to get "pummeled by Hurricane Irene." But folks, Brooklyn (certainly the slope) was not pummeled by a hurricane. It was a heavy rain storm and I slept through most of it. The scariest thing to happen is that the changes in air pressure caused the bottle of champagne to open itself last night. The sound scared the pants off me, I was worried something electrical blew out, but the result was more than pleasant (who wants a bottle of flat champagne!? Drink up!). Not to mention I think over-exaggerations of the press take away from those people who were severely hit, because news in New York is going to trump anything else. The subways and trains are down and will most likely remain so until sometime late tomorrow afternoon. No one is upset because we're all hoping we get another day to stay inside, anyway (snow day! snow day!). I think people, generally, are really enjoying the excuse to snuggle up and take a break for a few days.

I feel like it has been the year of Biblical whether that just missed me. Blizzards, the Memphis flood, tornadoes that skipped TN and destroyed AL, the VA earthquake and now a hurricane?? Sheesh. Safe and sound and not a scratch, thank goodness.

August: Week Three-ish and so on until we damn near see August through... {Part Four}

2011-08-23T22:10:00.000-05:00

Losing track of dates and times... some of the happs since last posting:

- Tamarind. The BEST Indian food you will ever eat. And one of the better, more memorable meals of personal history. In the Flatiron district.

- Training with Cash outside. That's right folks, we graduated from indoors to outdoors and we have been fortunate to see success in this area, lord knows we've been paying for it! Although leash work is still in progress, we are able to walk down 7th avenue in Brooklyn during 5PM rush hour traffic without issues. It may not sound like much to you, or maybe you just lack the context for it, but previously, walking with Cash down 7th avenue was our end of year goal (if that lends you any perspective). It's rewarding to have made it to this point before Darling hits the classroom for the school year. We have at this time ceased working with our trainer and are taking matters into our own hands. We have both good days and mediocre days and Cash will continue to challenge us but the choice of daytime activity and morning off-leash hours has been enjoyable for everyone. We are no longer confined to vampire-dog hours when the other misfits come out to play--unless we so choose. The behavior modification is changing everything and I think all 3 of us are happier for it.

- We got our library cards, diggin it.

- Downtown Brooklyn for lunch at the Main Street River Park. New bar stool-chair hybrids from BoConcept. Bookstore browsing. I am falling in love with this side of the East River for many reasons, the stunning views of Gotham is one of them.

- Get caught in a HUGE rainstorm. And rain in general, multiple times per week. I forget we live on an island...

- A weird dance class at BDC. While normally this would be a highlight, I felt it highlighted the ever-shifting, ever-evolving relationship I have with dance. Something I'm still reflecting on.

- See the big 2011 Tony winner on Broadway (post forthcoming).

- Rent an upholstery cleaner and tackle the couch. As you can see, Cash wasn't too keen on the whole thing although he is the sole reason for the rental in the first place. Laughing so hard at this image.

- Brunch with friends at Bar Tano.

- See The Cave of Forgotten Dreams and The Future

- Temp work begins...

- Darling starts chess lessons in Greenwich Village

- Missing out on the earthquake, feeling totally left out.

Food and food for thought. Thoughts and dreams and lack of both. Reading, starving for words, searching for insight, awareness, possibility.

Right. More to share but that's plenty for tonight. xo

Bookish {- Adjective. 1. given or devoted to reading or study.} 2011

2011-08-18T18:53:00.000-05:00

Just Kids -- Patti Smith

I love this book.

I can't make a comparison to Jonathan Franzen's The Corrections, otherwise I would tell you this is the best book I've read this year. Both serve as two of my favorite books I've read in a long time. Just Kids recounts the relationship of Patti Smith and Robert Mapplethorpe in their early days in New York, before fame or photography or music. Young, aspiring artists occasionally sleeping on benches, eating grilled cheese (if eating at all), living in the Hotel Chelsea, and recounting the people, sights, smells and feeling of that time. Smith writes directly, and purposefully, and movingly, never getting caught up or lost in descriptive furies. In fact, the narrative never seems to stop moving forward, verb driven, making the memoir extremely difficult to put down. Her word choices are exquisite, the marriage of good writing and good storytelling. A love letter to New York, my timing for reading this was impeccable. I felt a real connection with her and her references were not lost on me, I've read what she's read, love similar art and music, and I felt a possibility in my life by merely reading about hers. It's a book that changes your perception; I want to write like her, absorb the world like her--what a gift.

Bookish {- Adjective. 1. given or devoted to reading or study.} 2011

2011-08-18T16:02:00.000-05:00

The Other End of the Leash -- Patricia McConnell

I have been doing lots and lots of reading where I'm not working or driving anymore. I haven't been recording the books here as I otherwise normally would, and truthfully, if I didn't get a start on it I wouldn't get around to it (much like my journal-ish posts) so the next few posts will most likely be of the bookish persuasion.

I find that dog literature is a difficult section of the library or bookstore to navigate. Much like parenting, the gamut has been covered for every style of selecting, raising, training, rehabilitating, and understanding our canine friends. Oftentimes, in my experience, I find that much of the literature is dumbed down to "Learning 101"and while I can appreciate the information presented in a syntax that is accessible, I don't enjoy reading on the levels of an 8th grader when I'm looking for real insight or solid information. Couple this with the previously mentioned spectrum of literature available and one faces the difficult task of finding an author with similar views and values AND who writes on a level and in a style that is digestible and enjoyable. It's not an easy task and has required some research. Our luck started with finding The Other End of the Leash which has lead us to much more material in the vein we were searching for. With our recent emotional, monetary, and time investment with dog training, it's no wonder that Darling and I are both on the lookout for literature to enhance our knowledge and backup our efforts, the interest in the subject matter should have made itself apparent on this blog long ago.

Written in a style not unlike the pop psychology work of Malcolm Gladwell that I read last year (Blink, The Outliers) McConnell presents personal stories as an Applied Animal Behaviorist, sheep hearder, and dog trainer to illustrate and single out behavior traits, and then backs them up with well researched scientific data. This she presents in a work which acts as an information bridge between the two worlds of scientific journalists/phd types and the general dog loving public. The premise of the book is to further understand the ways in which canines and primates are both similar and different. Understanding ourselves (at the other other end of the leash) as a species and the patterns by which we and other primates physically and emotionally respond to stimuli and comparing that data to the ways in which canines receive and process data, and communicate in their own right. It was both an easy and fascinating book that I read in 2 days. A membership to the Brooklyn library and the reference section in the back of this book has Darling and I in a reading frenzy. For dog lovers, owners, and enthusiasts--it comes with a recommendation.

The Skinny {We're Being Invaded}

2011-08-16T14:15:00.001-05:00

Illustration Via Garance Dore

So, I've been wondering how to write about how uncomfortable I am with New York's obsession with being skinny. For weeks I have thought it feels like all the girls here look like the girls Garance Dore photographs for her blog. (To be fair, it's not just the females, the males are just as bad--I'm merely focusing on my own sex for the purposes of this post.) In our second week I distinctly remember sitting down to Greek food with Darling and asking him if he had seen any fat people in New York?

Before moving, I imagined that I would feel plain. But I have never felt so plain or pudgy as an ongoing personal characteristic and not just a pms thing. It's absolutely superficial, but it's also deeply personal. It's me, my body, the casing for all that I am and that which I present to the world and myself! For the past few years I've been feeling like I had really gotten past my insecurities and body issues (aside from my shopping problems) and felt like I was in a good place with myself but I suppose these things are relative.

It's New York City! Anyone can be whoever the hell they want to be and own it, and they do! And along comes little mountain town, South'rn, country ME and I've felt like Sarah Plain And Tall for the last month. The more I explore the city, however, the more I actually suspect that the East Coast has been invaded by freakishly thin, beautiful, Swedish-model-aliens. Okay, so that's a bit extreme, its not just the Swedish looking ones, it's inclusive across all cultures and ethnicities. They have the uncanny ability to look carelessly beautiful, subtle to no makeup, wearing the most amazing clothes and shoes that are immaculate and rarely trying-too-hard. Swedish-alien-models are also almost always "vegan" or "vegetarian" which I believe has very little investment in animal welfare and is actually just another reason to not eat. Not to mention that it seems much of the population compulsively works out. It feels like a lot to keep up with, and completely unnatural for me to try and do so.

So whatever, I guess that's just how it is, my opinion of what surrounds me doesn't change the reality of what's there but I have experienced these feelings of inadequacy and hyperconsciousness of my physical appearance as a huge, strange part of the culture shock of living here. I felt a sliver of relief today when the aforementioned Garance wrote this post making similar observations, like I wasn't the only one out of my element. Of course, she's coming at it from a completely different perspective; working in fashion, moving from Paris... but I think she accurately describes some of what I see and feel. Although, for the record, I'm giving myself a one-up on her as I think that coming from the South is a much bigger cultural jump than the transatlantic City of Light, no?

We'll see. Don't get me wrong, just read a post down and you'll see that I've been having a great time here, but I'd be lying if I told you there was no adjustment. I also suspect that a lot of my feeling out of place here has a lot to do with me not really having a community. Although I know people here, it doesn't really feel like we're friends in that truer sense of the word. I haven't yet found a job, or found anything to call my own. I feel like a tourist and suspect I will for some time. Currently, my world expands little outside of Darling, Cash and our dog trainer. Don't get me wrong, god, I can't imagine if I were doing this without them! I'm grateful that something is comfortable and homey, but I feel like a little establishment and grounding in the city will make it seem a little less vast.

Of Photographic Nature

2011-08-14T14:50:00.000-05:00

A view from the Highline

Friends sleep over

The view from East River Park in Williamsburg

Sonic Youth concert

August: Week Two {Part Three}

2011-08-12T13:10:00.000-05:00

Saturday 8/5:

- Ride my bike to Fort Greene to meet up with O from Memphis and take a Gaga class at the Mark Morris Dance Center in Brooklyn. The facility is stunning. Gaga is more experimental than anything I've done before and I find my body and brain truly worked by the end.

- O and I stop for a bite to eat at a Mediterranean cafe and as we're catching up on the serious side of things, a woman in full-on clown costumery reminds us of the irony and humor in life.

- While searching for after lunch coffee we stumble upon the treasure-filled Brooklyn Flea and find ourselves meandering for a few hours. I find a John Murphy cast resin frame and collage that I bring home to Darling as a thank you and peace offering gift.

- Darling and I grab dinner and stand in line for 3 hours for the Alexander McQueen Savage Beauty exhibit at the Met which we found to be well worth the wait. Exquisite. It was really as good as you heard.

- By the time we get back to the Slope it's 3am and we stop in a 24-hour diner for breakfast before bed.

Sunday 8/6:

- Run around doing house things, hang shelves and prints on the walls.

- Meet up with O again, this time at Brooklyn Bowl in Williamsburg. Talib Kweli fills in for Q-Tip who, sadly, was too sick to dj. We find good beats and good dancing and eventually score ourselves a lane. 8' chocolate leather chesterfield sofas and gourmet bites make for the swankiest bowling experience I've ever had.

- Darling has a rough night on the train and I have a rough night in the shoes I chose to wear, but we make it home safely.

Monday 8/7:

- ???

- Dog trainer comes and we work on sending Cash to his bed.

- Solidify our love of Indian food delivery and discover The United States of Tara.

Tuesday 8/8:

- Attempted to buy a dress to wear to an interview. Shopping woes and conservative, matronly dressing ensue.

- Dog trainer session followed by a wonderful sushi dinner just down the street. Neither darling nor I can bring ourselves to try the raw shrimp, however.

- Meet friends from Utah at club Splash in Manhattan. Although it's good to see them, it's underage night at the panty bar and S lost his phone. No one plans on a return visit anytime soon although the nice bartender from the Dominican Republic assures me I would have a better time if I returned on a Thursday or Saturday.

- Officially become addicted to the Scrabble game on my phone while waiting for MTA (always).

Wednesday 8/9:

- Darling comes with me to return the conservative, matronly dress after which we go to Trash and Vaudeville in the East Village.

- Eat at Katz's Deli and wander from the LES through Nolita and Tribeca before heading home.

- Utah friends C and S come to stay with us! Not only are they our first overnight guests but also the first people to come to the house (with the exception of the landlord and dog trainer). Although not perfect, Cash does really well with our new greeting routine. No barking or peeing in the house! We are parents beaming with pride for him and feel much better about all the $$$ we have been spending on training.

- Sit down for an amazing dinner at Applewood in Park Slope to catch up on conversation with friends and enjoy the slower pace Brooklyn offers before going home to bed.

Thursday 8/10:

- Head to Midtown where I sign on with a temp agency. I feel good about having a place to start even if it's not the place I'll be. Hoping for a few days of work soon!

- Grab a Vietnamese sandwich and bubble tea for lunch. Stroll with friends up to Grand Army Plaza and down through Prospect Park before they leave for home.

- Back to Manhattan, LES, for some much needed haircuts. We split pimento cheese dip and one the best cheeseburgers either of us have tasted at Peels.

- Take the boy out for a much needed night swim and run at the park. Listen to the end of the Cut Copy concert happening simultaneously and come home exhausted.

Friday 8/11:

- Blog updates for what's been hip hop happening.

- Dog trainer scheduled to come by for our first outdoor session.

- Plans for some epic live music

...TBD...

Damn Yankees

2011-08-12T11:47:00.000-05:00

	1	2	3	4	5	6	7	8	9	R	H	E
BAL	0	0	1	0	0	1	0	0	0	2	6	1
NYY	0	0	0	4	0	0	0	0	-	4	7	1

August: Week One {Part Two}

2011-08-05T12:10:00.001-05:00

Saturday 7/30:

- Pick up bagels and train to the Brooklyn Promenade to enjoy breakfast and a nice view. We discuss the buildings and agree that the Verizon high-rise is offensive. Darling seems particulary put out, should possibly start sending letters to VIP's.
- Walk to Brooklyn Bridge Park with the intention of canoeing the bay but opt out of waiting in line and choose instead to explore DUMBO.

Sunday 7/31:

- Pick up coffee and train to the Frick to see the returned Bellini painting and enjoy the collection. The space is inviting and accessible, unlike MoMa, and we enjoy ourselves there. Talk about the works and the building itself. Why is it people of money aren't investing in building spaces of significance anymore? Quality over quantity, is it a debate?
- Head to Yankee Staduim for a Yankees vs. Oriels game, enjoy over priced ballpark food and see Jeeter get clocked in the collar bone with a 93 mph fast ball. He walked bases and was not seen for the rest of the game.
- Train south and walk through the West Village and Meat Packing District.
- Eat at the Standard Grill and walk the length of the newly completed Highline Park. Such a gorgeous and interesting public space that shows both vision and initiative. Make mental notes to hit up the rollerskating rink there sometime this summer.

Monday 8/1:

- First session with dog trainer, it is rather intense for everyone involved.
- Train to SoHo with Darling to listen to new speakers. Come home later to find them in my living room. All I can think is that they sound fake: crystal clear, lots of depth, perfect balance. We start shuffling through all our music to test them out although my suspicion is that Darling did it all for the Beach Boy's Pet Sounds album.
- Leave the stereo store and meet up at Eataly in Chelsea with two Memphis dance friends that happened to be in the city at the same time! It is such a breath of fresh air to be with their beautiful hearts and see their lovely, familiar faces. They are sweet to buy my dinner and we walk to Washington Square before parting ways. Too short, but I am grateful it worked out. I still have a chance for another meeting and possible dance class with one of them in the coming week.

Tuesday 8/2:

- Cash is carted off to daycare in Williamsburg and we spend the day with plumbers and delivery men but in the end are happy with a new stove.
- Consume ourselves with organization and house stuff. I break to pick up Vietnamese sandwiches (our new favorite lunch). We tackle the basement and get lots of garbage left from the previous tenant curbside, much of it is taken by folks to be reused, quickly.
- We take turns rinsing off in the shower and I prepare a quick dinner before we wind down the evening with a Sufjan Stevens concert in Prospect Park. Sufjan quotes Whitman and gives us beautiful music in what is now essentially our backyard.

Wednesday 8/3:

- Second session of training, the hardest thus far.
- Shuttle to Ikea for some returns and end up spending 2.5 hours there. We leave with a few items but are ultimately disappointed and feel worse about the state of humanity afterward. An anxiety of landfills overflowing with cheaply made particle board junk follows me for the remainder of the evening.
- Go to Lowe's to buy paint and a few items to get started on our converted office project.
- Order pizza and spend the night painting and feeling better about the state of our living quarters. It is satisfying and exercises our minds as we brainstorm new projects to take on.

Thursday 8/4:

- Third session with the trainer, we see very positive results.
- Train into SoHo to pick up speaker stands and look for wall organizer to no avail.
- Make our way to the BAM Rose Cinema, the fanciest of movie houses I've ever been inside, to see the new Tribe Called Quest documentary Beats, Rhymes & Life (recommended).
- Walk home stopping for sushi along the way. Thinking all the way how crazy it is that life happens the way it does, where I am, to be doing what we're doing.

Friday 8/5:

- Fourth training session, more positive results and begin formulating a plan for future sessions. Everyone is proud of Cash, he continues to problem solve and work hard. The sessions wear my honey bear out and he sleeps for most of the day.
- Blogging, catch up on all that has been happening before it gets away.
- TBD...

Things I would like to do this weekend (aside from the obvious "get a job"):

- See the Alexander McQueen exhibit at the MET before it is taken down on Sunday
- Get to a dance class.
- Take a nap, sheesh...

First Month Update {Part One}

2011-08-05T11:05:00.000-05:00

Dear Diary,

Kidding! But seriously... I'm actually writing this post out on the ipad because the desktop is disconnected currently. That is my excuse for a post sans photographs. I do, however, feel it is important to write down some kind of update as I don't journal much outside of what you see here and the details tend to slip my mind pretty damn quickly. If I continue to wait until I have the photos uploaded and selected I am certain much of it will become blurred. If the photos make it up to the site later, I will consider it a bonus--I'll try. Darling has also asked me if I would keep track of what has been happening these last few days. Where he has the month of August off, a lot has already happened and the future looks to promise more of the same. Here is part 1.

Can you believe it? I've lived in New York for one month. That's pretty wild. Although everything still feels new, the trippiest and hardest element to get used to is the way the city consumes time. It is the most bizarre time-warp of an experience to get things done on these islands. A day can be filled with some serious adventures, sensory overload, high and low brow entertainment, cultural soirees, and anything else you could imagine (like when I met up with these guys for lunch and we roasted marshmellows for s'mores at our table in the middle of Manhattan!). It's possible to see Renior paintings and the NY Yankees within 3 hours of each other and that completely blows my mind. But the opposite side of the coin reveals that it can also take 2 hours just to go to the bank and get back home. New York has a way of eating up time for simple tasks between all the walking, waiting on MTA, and long lines.

Sister Wedding: Aside from feeling seriously whipplashed (bouncing from Memphis, to NY, to Seattle, to CDA, back to NY in a matter of 3 weeks) and slightly anxious (about life in general) we had a great time at the wedding, everything was beautiful! I think the Inland Empire region is absolutely breathtaking. I forget how cool the nights are out West, even in the middle of summer. Although, I think our time there was exceptionally chilly. While the rest of the country was experiencing a wicked heat wave, the temperatures were dropping down to 48F in the evening and I had to keep reminding myself that it was, in fact, July. After experiencing the beginning of another Memphis summer, I welcome any break from the heat with open arms, I only wish I had packed our suitcase with that in mind. We managed by spending lots of time around a fire and dreaming up the blueprints for a rotisserie chair since we couldn't figure out the logistics for the rotating fire pit that actually would have been ideal. We slept in a sweet VW van in the backyard, we had breakfast from the garden (the garden needs its own post), and we put our hands to use where we could. It was quick and sweet, I hope to see the Mr. and Mrs. for some quality time soon.

Cash Man: After we got home from our travels, it was all too apparent that we needed to get serious with a dog behaviorist. The trainer I had previously scheduled to meet with didn't show up to our meeting (trains, and other weirdness) but in retrospect, it was the right thing--she was not the right trainer for our dog. We called a behaviorist at our vet's recommendation and have been working with him all week, completing 4 sessions. Sessions have proven to be both intense and depleting for everyone in the house. I don't know how much I have alluded to or explained here, but despite Cash's sweetness and trainability, he has some very real aggression issues that must be addressed. The aggression is fear-based, defensive, and very obviously stems from a serious anxiety. Our plan is to first address the aggression, replacing it with positive reinforcement training for correct behavior, then address the anxiety with therapy work and confidence building. I feel hopeful, that we are doing the right thing but also feel that it is going to be a long, expensive process (donations to a "Save Cash" *wink* foundation fund are totally accepted). We ARE seeing rapid progress and are receiving great feedback. A page has turned for the little man and we are ready to accept a new norm for all of us. I am broken hearted that for so many, animals are like library books, to be checked in and out at the whim of humans. I understand that not all animals are right for all families, but for us, the choice to adopt an animal is a commitment, and one that is non-negotiable once made. Not knowing Cash's breed or past history makes some of this task difficult but I'm feeling confident that we are with a behaviorist whose approach and plan for Cash is tailored to his specific needs. I am sure this is a topic that will be updated and revisited frequently.

Last Week: Last week comes back to me as a blur... I can't really say I know what happened other than we did laundry. Which, I can at least tell you a note on laundry (real quick, if you've made it this far in reading you can handle it!) So basically I hate laundry (I think this is universal truth) and Darling and I are slowly forming a bad habit of pay by the pound laundry because it may just be the closest thing to true magic that either of us has ever experienced. There is a great laundromat around the corner (we don't even have to cross the street) and for $0.75/lb (which is only a few dollars more than washing the bundle ourselves) I can drop off the basket and a few hours later pick up the most pristinely folded, clean laundry I have ever laid my eyes on. For me, total effort is a maximum of 5 minutes, and I have never seen my bath towels and underwear folded to the same size before but it's remarkable. Everything comes back in these super tidy stacks ready to put away. It blows my mind! And landry, aside from the expense, has become a totally joyful experience.

Carving our way through this remarkable city has been both wonderful and trying. It, as with all things, is balanced that way. I'm struggling most with my own confidence here. I understand that with time and meeting people and feeling like I have an established community this will change, but I would be lying if I denied to you the quiet fights with myself since arriving. I'm not sure how to field the, "How's life in New York?" question just yet, I don't have the experience to answer something so heavy although I am aware the indented response is, "It's wonderful! How are you?!" I'm not struggling nearly as much as I did upon moving to Memphis and I feel like this alone is promising and proof of strength learned. I do know that community will be essential, that having a job, a "place," will also serve to quiet my head. To do what we can, right now (because these things take time), Darling and myself are working hard to adjust our new apartment, lots of painting, cleaning and fine tuning what we need to do in order to create a comfortable and welcoming space that works in our smaller-than-we're-used-to living quarters. The progress is rapid and satisfying. We are making it our own and that is always an important part of the transition for me. It has become a personal science seeing as I have stayed no longer than 1.5 years in one place in the past 8 years. Lots of running to Lowe's, compiling a big list of items about to go up for sale on Craigslist, and browsing for new space savers--it's getting there.

...

To be continued.

Straight Country

2011-07-29T13:00:00.001-05:00

How great is it that I have youtube vids of Cash on the PA farm?! Don't get me wrong, I don't I think your animal needs to determine where you do or don't live, or what you can or cannot do (it's about working together to make your situation the best possible) but I do wonder if we haven't moved to the entirely wrong place for our pups temperament.

Wedding March

2011-07-29T09:21:00.000-05:00

One of my favorite things about Darling's sister's wedding (woof, that's a mouthful) was the music choices for the ceremony. I can't shake this one from my head. The story goes that she had been planning on using a Richie Valens song for damn near a solid decade. It was her, "this-is-what-I-want-to-walk-down-the-aisle-to song" for years and years (admittedly, its a fantastic choice) and one of her close friends used it to march down the aisle just a few months before her own wedding. Not that it would have been inappropriate to use it as planned, but she just couldn't go through with it anymore--I definitely understand the upset and sentiment of someone "stealing" something from under you (this is exactly why folks are weird about sharing their unborn child's name). Yikes, right?! So a few days before the ceremony she settled on using this Air song for her wedding march. So pretty, so perfect. I keep listening to it on repeat.

Bookish {- Adjective. 1. given or devoted to reading or study.} 2011

2011-07-26T10:54:00.000-05:00

Billy Bathgate - E.L. Doctorow

The story of Billy Bathgate is one of a uniquely 'orphaned' boy from the Bronx taken under the wing of one of the deadliest gangsters in 1930s New York, Dutch Schultz. At just fifteen years old, Billy's cunning and drive to work hard propels him to find he is not only a good luck charm but a key player, and protege to Mr. Schultz himself. But the lifestyle of gangsterdom (my favorite word in the book) comes at a cost and the stakes are high, too high I believe for anyone fifteen years old to comprehend. The quality of storytelling is as good as the writing. Small, profound nuggets are woven into a wonderful, full work driven by action, violence and the seedy underbelly of Depression era gangsters. Darling's aunt & uncle gave us this book for Christmas last year and to be honest I picked it out from the shelf because of the cover illustration. Its a book I think Darling will really fall for, different from my usual flavors of fiction, but an excellent read that went by too fast. On that note, I've actually been reading up a storm since the move. Take all the time you spend driving during your day and replace that with reading. It's the best thing about public transportation and is probably going to be a game changer.

The Teekies Came By Accident {A Traveling Story}

2011-07-25T18:58:00.001-05:00

We have been having a bit of drama with Delta airlines (we were involuntarily denied boarding on the 2nd leg of a confirmed flight and not properly compensated). Although it was terribly inconvenient and caused slight emotional turmoil, all things considered, I can think of a lot worse places to be stranded than Seattle, WA. I hadn't been to the city since 2007 and it has been even longer for Darling, which is interesting considering we both love it there. I learned that a new light rail system has been put in place with a convenient last stop at the airport. The weather that day was perfect, making for a rather dreamy afternoon filled with sunshine and breezes and long walks up hills and along piers, of seafood and ham bows and markets with flowers, of comic books and cheeky humor, of sailboats on the sound and jackets in the evening and book stores filled with the flutter of childhood memories. The teekies went on accident...

I completed A Moveable Feast on the plane and in honor of Hemingway I felt it was only appropriate to enjoy the delicate flavor of oysters and local micro brew as soon as it was available. Also pictured, calamari in jalapeno aioli--we did our best to consume as much seafood as possible in those 14 hours.

I have wanted to live in the Pacific Northwest since my first visit when I was 14 years old. Each time I find myself there that feeling is reaffirmed. Something about the unique energy, clean streets, incredible food, and beautiful/accessible nature continues to capture my heart.

Notes On Style {Fourth Quarter}

2011-07-20T22:00:00.035-05:00

Esska

THESE!

Finding these shoes saved my sanity just now....

Darling's sister is getting hitched this weekend (yay, congrats Natty!) and you know that figuring out what I was going to wear to the wedding is something that waited until the last minute. (Back to shopping conundrums and everything we've been over a hundred times.) I started looking for something back in Memphis but I thought to myself, "Surely there is no need to try and go through *another* online ordering deboucle if I'm going to be in New York soon..." Isn't what I order most likely coming from New York anyway? Which I do still think is an incredibly valid point... except that its ME we are talking about, and I also forgot to add into the equation the time factor--that we would be leaving just 2 weeks and 3 days after we pulled up in the moving van, which doesn't allow much time for browsing--but you know that I always find myself in this situation, no matter what the circumstance, or how many valid-to-me excuses I can create. (Libby, did I ever tell you that I bought what I wore to your wedding reception on my way from the ceremony to the reception?! Whoops, well, I did. I totally still made it on time, at least I think so, I made it for pictures ;-).) So. I need to look for a dress! I grab my dear friend from Bushwick on his day off and we have a beer with lunch to loosen up (I get terrible anxiety when shopping) and we tromp all around Broadway/SOHO to no avail, although he was able to pick a few things up. Don't get me wrong, we had a great time, it was a good day, but not necessarily a successful one according to the agenda.

Next morning, pre-all-day-errand running (for the pup, omg, I have to tell you about the dog another day, but it crossed my mind for about 30 minutes that I wanted to give him away), I run up the street to Brooklyn Industries and find not one but two dresses that I like! Very daytime appropriate (read: casual), I justify that the little seersucker one might work for the low-key, outdoor, lakeside ceremony and reception. Slap that on Rosey's Facebook wall for some approval (shameless!) and observe her tip to belt it.

When I start looking at what I need to pack and I realize that I don't even OWN a summer shoe that isn't a saltwater sandal or flip flop... (okay. I own ONE, but its patent leather and looked terrible with the outfit) I start to panic a little. Damnit! Surely you've already guessed that I spent all afternoon looking for a shoe instead of doing much more productive (read: nessary) things. Sore outta luck... I get home and start pulling shoes out of my closet, every. pair. I am not exaggerating when I tell you nothing I own looks appropriate, and shit, we leave tomorrow! Being slightly crazed and wild-eyed, I googled "Park Slope Shoes" at 5:50PM, knowing that most places close at 7, and biked to Boreum Hill...

Those shoes, the ones at the top? Yup, they just saved my sanity. I'm so thrilled with them. For all I know they could be hideous and something I would never purchase normally (I'm hoping its not the case) but I'm just so dumbstruck with love for them--they're beeaauuttifuuull. Note: they feel just like wearing tennies. F'real. And, they were on sale (what what). Feelin good y'all, feelin good right now. Trust me, I am fully aware of how wordy this post is and how neruotic I've been about the whole deal when, ultilmately, "it's just shoes." But I hope you see that its totally not about the shoes, at the same time, right?

And that's an entirely seperate conversation, one that we're not having now... but my story might just provide you with more insight into my transition to New York life than I could tell you straightforwardly at this moment.

Although I haven't had much time for posting here, I got back on to say I'm going away again. I know, can't believe it either. But a few days in the Pacific Nothwest?! I think it'll be great for our souls. Little Cash is in Williamsburg until Friday and then he's going to a farm in PA for the weekend. So ridiculous, I know. Okay, I have to go finish/start packing, f'real.

Take care, friends!

Be in touch soon

xoxo

Travel Log

2011-07-13T11:43:00.000-05:00

The better moment's of Cash's travel story.

Safe and sound.

NYC

2011-07-12T14:02:00.001-05:00

We are here!

So I am hoping that we will have the intrawebs at home tomorrow, for now I find myself in a little space on the LES with a coffee and wi-fi. Simple pleasures. For all that has happened, it has happened with as much grace and ease as I can imagine is possible. Driving in the moving van with Darling, Cash and myself sharing a bench seated cab was an adventure, to say the least. I think the climax was really the first evening when i marched the pup's sorry ass to the van to sleep in the cab at 5 in the morning as i simultaneously prayed he would not get us kicked out of the hotel. Cash also has an immunity to Xanax, I'm sure of it. It seems to have had virtually no affect on the boy much to my dismay.

In reality, Cash has been the primary concern of our attention and also the primary cause of our problems during the transition. It has been no easy task moving a large, high energy, mutt to such a drastically different environment. I am currently reading, The Other End Of The Leash by Patricia McConnell and have arranged for a dog trainer to come to the house next Monday in hopes of fixing the behavior issues and helping us learn what we need to do in order to communicate with Cash our expectations for his behavior in clear and meaningful ways so that life with him is more joyful than stressful. Fingers, elbows and knees are all crossed.

Yesterday I saw a pup walking himself down 7th avenue... Wtf?! F'real y'all, holding his own leash in his mouth and quietly and happily heeling to his owner. It was like a kick in the balls. If only? One day? Siiiiiggggghhhh.

As for the slope, i couldn't be happier. I love the neighborhood. It's perfect, I think it really might be. We have a yard! And it's pretty bitchen although it needs some work as it has been untended for years, which I have a hard time understanding... How does one ignore the luxury of a yard in NYC?? I do have suspicion to believe that the previous tenant was bat-shit nuts, cramming pennies into crevices and duct taping over outlets, crack head crazy. The space is wonderful, it needed loads of cleaning, goo gone to clean the cupboards cleaning, but I haven't sat down in a few weeks at this point and we have gotten unpacked and things together faster than I could have imagined. Its livable albeit not finished. But its seriously like darling and I have moving down to a science at this point, which we are both grateful for. It has and will continue to be a change adjusting to the tiny kitchen and lack of sq. footage, but the open floor plan and high ceilings help to keep us from feeling like we are living in a shoe box. One of these days I may post a photo for you, but don't bet on that happening any time soon!

I was fortunate to have a friend working for NYCDA nationals and she was able to supply me with a few days work immediately after getting here. Other than that, there is no news on a job front. Tbd...

It's still new, it's still surreal.. The only time I have cried was after receiving the sweetest package from my Project:Motion friends, but otherwise we are all working hard to hold it together and make this shit happen. I truly appreciate all your good energy and notes and comments of love and encouragement. Will do my best to be in touch soon..

Xoxo

All The Things...

2011-06-24T16:30:00.000-05:00

Packing away...

Staycation Memphis {A story in Photos}

2011-06-24T10:32:00.000-05:00

~~Graceland~~

~~Stax~~

Wild Bills

Sun Studio

Amidst the craziness of making arrangements to move next week (!!), Darling and I have been setting aside time to soak in the things that make Memphis, Memphis, as we reflect on the growth we've had and all amazing things we've seen, done, tasted, and experienced here. We ran morning errands and made requisite phone calls but also spent a portion of the afternoon as tourists in our town. {First} Brunch at The Arcade (the oldest cafe in Memphis) {Second} Tour of Graceland {Third} Tour of Stax Museum:

coffee + eggs over easy + biscuits and gravy + hashbrowns

The day was unbelievably muggy and humid

Even after the declaration, "no more vinyl till after we move!" (we keep finding ourselves trading-in and purchasing at Goner and Shangri-la) we purchased a couple of great records at the Satellite Record Shop connected to Stax before rounding off the evening with a Dick Dale concert at the Hi Tone.

That's right, surf rock legend Dick Dale rocked. it. out. here in Memphis! The skill and energy with which he played, even in his late 70s, was unreal. I love surf rock when it is aggressive and filled with the sexy tension of a bullfight, or flamenco, lending itself to a unique and playful juxtaposition of sound, imagery, and influence. He captivated the audience with short tales of hanging out with Elvis and Johnny Cash and threw in some fun, dancey covers to sing along to. It was a show for the books, right up there with Willie Nelson and Robert Plant. I swear to it, if you get a chance go see him, don't miss the opportunity. I remember he played annually in SLC while I was there, often in a tiny bar for $10-$15. Amazing.

In more current news of getting a much needed reality check, today is my last day at work.

whoa.

A Lesson in Patience

2011-06-22T13:02:00.000-05:00

Image via Rodeo

I do not worry for I trust my love and my self but I feel the current of uneasy, excited angst firing in every synapse. The tension of turquoise. Not the lush, heavy, green of the earth, nor the pale blue of the celestial but a margin of conflict in the interim. My faith in the law of balance is strong (actio et reaction) but as my mind flutters high into the cerebral realm—reeling, reeling—an equal heaviness pools in the pit of my core, sinking low and deep. In the constant presence of anxiety I am not free to rest, or to find contentedness, or a guarantor. I swim (or fly) through a self-manufactured space, an imposter of the reality waiting around the corner. My body is hungry, seeking a sensory validation that is impossible, presently. The patterns of my body are the same, only the patterns of my body are the same. Daily motion. I have not found a way to reconcile my two halves, I have not really began to say goodbye. Even in sleep—reeling, reeling. The tension pervades into every facet and the balance I crave can only be felt in extremes, the meridians of high and lows. All is surreal.

Bookish {- Adjective. 1. given or devoted to reading or study.} 2011

2011-06-20T08:50:00.000-05:00

The Strange Case of Edward Gorey - Alexander Theroux

I remember seeing my first Edward Gorey book in the sixth grade. I was fascinated. The dark, tiny illustrations with their meticulous, obsessive attention to detail coupled with text that was both archaic and witty--I thought it was hilarious, inappropriate, and intriguing. Since then, I have had a real fondness for the work of Mr. Gorey. I was excited when Darling brought home what I suspected to be a biography of the artist, unfortunately, the work didn't fulfill my expectations. One Goodreads reviewer put it perfectly:

A bizarre tribute/biography of Gorey by a friend and collaborator. The tone is certainly Gorey-Victorian. Bring your thesaurus. This book is a pretentious name-dropping nightmare. It is fine when done to give a snapshot of Gorey's likes and dislikes, but way overdone.

The book serves as a catalog and platform for Mr. Theroux to show us just how many obscure references and terms he could put to use while partially relaying conversations he had with Mr. Gorey. The writing was pretentious and wordy to the point of using parenthetical statements to explain itself and define words for the reader--there is something to be said for clarity and accessibility. More than a few times Theroux talks in circles, oftentimes recycling information; the disorganization of the text is distracting. I found myself put out by the author's insertion of himself so boldly in the forefront of the text. Rather than adding a sense of intimacy to the story, I found the author trying to outshine his subject. The most interesting parts were those about Gorey (the first time they were mentioned) and the included illustrations and posters.

Bookish {- Adjective. 1. given or devoted to reading or study.} 2011

2011-06-16T08:30:00.014-05:00

Woodswoman: Living Alone in the Adirondack Wilderness - Anne LaBastille

Woodswoman will not be categorized in "best" or most insightful books I've ever read. The prose isn't unique, outstanding, or particularly articulate. I actually found Miss LaBastille very early on ran out of adjectives and everything was over-simplified, boiled down to "rustic." This is not to say that rustic is inaccurate, in fact, it's probably the most exacting descriptor for a life lived in a hand-built cabin in the middle of the Adirondacks, but with continuous repetition it is certain to get old. What makes Anne's writing compelling is the meat of the stories themselves. After her divorce, Anne purchased 22 acres in the Adirondack Wilderness of New York State, hired a pair of brothers to assist her in building a log cabin home and learned to live on her own, in the wild, writing for income, with a sweet German Shepherd for company. Originally published in 1976, the wildlife ecologist's stories and insight into a more sustainable lifestyle is both progressive and empowering. It's a quick read, the writing is conversational and the unpretentious tone makes it very accessible. I imagine her voice as she narrates, the mixing and embellishing of details that bring the book to life as being told over coffee in the cabin itself--real person, real stories. If anything the book serves as an inspiration to choose, with intention, how and why and where you live your life. To create with your own hands the life you find most fulfilling. Great for summer + adventuring minds + wanderlust + girl power.

Postal

2011-06-15T16:17:00.002-05:00

Fresh to Death {Home Tour}

2011-06-15T13:04:00.000-05:00

Image from Apartment Therapy

While searching for some "make the most of your small space" inspiration, I came across this awesome House Tour. Yes, I too enjoy the BHG or Anthology magazine aesthetic--the eclectic mix of rustic and modern that has been carefully chosen and whimsically placed, you know, it's been the look for a while now--but I can totally see Darling and I (while remaining true to our styles and preferences) rocking out a space that takes ourselves a little less seriously for years to come still. I found it very refreshing to see something with so much vibrancy and personality while still displaying great taste and a distinct (cohesive) aesthetic preference. It's a lot more stuff than I think I'm willing to take on at this time but it's working in the context. It looks like such a great space to kick it in.

Feel free to send me any inspiration or cool/efficient storage solutions if you come across 'em in your browsing!

e {dot} sissyjupe {at} gmail {dot} com

Nice Place to Make a Home

2011-06-13T12:03:00.000-05:00

Ladies and Gents, we officially have a charming space to call home in Brooklyn, NY. After copious amounts of information gathering, ca$$$$h money, and hours on the phone, Darling squared away the deal and has returned home to Memphis in just 5 days time, I think its a record. Certainly you already know that in NY real estate speak "charming" is code for "tiny"... alas, that's Nueva York! We are moving from our glorious 1200 sq ft duplex into a 1 bedroom space that measures at approximately 400 sq ft -- talk about adjustment. I think we really lucked out though, we do have lots of the good things we were looking for in the new space, namely: a private backyard (a rare gem in the city), are wicked close to gorgeous Prospect Park (which has daily off-leash hours), washer and dryer hookups, exclusive access to basement storage, and is very close to a convenient subway station. Ultimately, we think that an ideal situation for Cash (backyard + park) is going to be the greater convenience and that it is worth sacrificing in square footage for the best setup we can afford (the price tag is high, folks).

It's really happening.

Each item, to my amazement, is being checked off the list... It still feels as though I'm working in the abstract, though. I desperately need the reality check of something concrete, corporeal, sensual in order to feel sane. Instead it feels like I've spent these past few weeks treading water -- going nowhere, floating in a vast, open space of my own conjuring. My eyes are hungry to see for themselves, but instead it's all being imagined in my head. I haven't even seen a photo of our new digs... its crazy. Inevitably, it (the real) is sure to come very soon.

Thank you so much for your kind thoughts and support.

It helps more than you can ever realize.

Keep you posted...

Doppelganger {Sister}

2011-06-10T15:48:00.002-05:00

Apparently my Cash has a sister living in Austen, TX. It's extra weird because I've never seen a dog that looks like Cash before, ever. Someone is giving this sweet girl away for free, I have an urge to start collecting adorable identical mutts.

Maybe she can help us unlock the secret to Cashman's mysterious breed mixture.

Trips me out, so uncanny.

Bucket List {Memphis}

2011-06-09T15:00:00.000-05:00

Not long ago I was feeling all kinds of tender toward this city on the bluff... I'm beginning to process just how soon I'll be leaving this kooky, wonderful, unique place. There are a few things on my Memphis Bucket List despite all the craziness that is all around me. It feels wrong (shameful, even) to spend two years here without partaking in the following biggies:

1. Graceland

Graceland is a large white-columned mansion and 13.8-acre estate that was home to Elvis Presley in Memphis, Tennessee. It is located at 3764 Elvis Presley Boulevard in the vast Whitehaven community about 9 miles from Downtown and less than four miles north of the Mississippi border. It currently serves as a museum. It was opened to the public on June 7, 1982. The site was listed in the National Register of Historic Places on November 7, 1991 and declared a National Historic Landmark on March 27, 2006. Graceland has become the second most-visited private home in America with over 600,000 visitors a year; only the White House has more visitors per year. (wiki)

2. Sun Studios

Sun Studio is a recording studio opened by rock pioneer Sam Phillips at 706 Union Avenue in Memphis, Tennessee, on January 3, 1950. It was originally called Memphis Recording Service, sharing the same building with the Sun Records label business. Reputedly the first rock-and-roll single, Jackie Brenston and his Delta Cats' "Rocket 88" was recorded there in 1951 with song composer Ike Turner on keyboards, leading the studio to claim status as the birthplace of rock & roll. Blues and R&B artists like Howlin' Wolf, Junior Parker, Little Milton, B.B. King, James Cotton, Rufus Thomas, and Rosco Gordon recorded there in the early 1950s. (wiki)

3. Stax Museum

Because the Stax Museum is one of only a handful of museums in the world dedicated to soul music (the Motown Museum in Detroit is another), it not only celebrates the legacy of Stax Records and its artists such as Isaac Hayes, Otis Redding, Sam & Dave, the Staple Singers, Johnnie Taylor, Albert King, Booker T. & the MGs, Rufus and Carla Thomas and others, but also features other soul music labels such as Motown, Hi Records, Atlantic Records, and Muscle Shoals, and visitors are treated to vintage video footage of non-Stax artists such as Aretha Franklin, Al Green, Stevie Wonder, Marvin Gaye, Ann Peebles, The Jackson Five, Patti LaBelle, Parliament-Funkadelic, Sam Cooke, James Brown, Ike & Tina Turner, and others. (wiki)

4. Wild Bills

Wild Bill’s is an out-of-the-way hole-in-the-wall delta juke joint with live music, chitlins, and beer by the quart. Bring your own liquor and stay all night. You can’t get more down-home Memphis than this.

So Memphians, what else? What needs to be seen, done, tasted?

I want to soak it in, if ever I can find a moment....

Lexicon {Lesson 1}

2011-06-08T11:31:00.001-05:00

When moving to New York City one must immediately learn to adopt a new dialect and vocabulary, for surely familiar words and idioms acquire unexpected meanings in the new locale. I believe our dear Alice never did travel to Wonderland but rather Gotham, ahem, "Nothing would what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary wise, what it is, it wouldn't be. And what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?"

Exhibit A

Finding Your First NYC Apartment

2011-06-06T13:12:00.001-05:00

...Sheesh...

it's slightly disheartening, although, I do appreciate the honesty

You Ain't Know Nothin Bout The Big City, Lil Girl

2011-06-03T08:12:00.006-05:00

The time has come to officially/formally announce the news of relocation:

Brooklyn, NY

Darling has signed a contract with a school in the heart of BK and it seems like the next logical move for us. It's incredibly exciting, overwhelming, stressful, hopeful--all of the above. We have so much to do in order to get ourselves there in just under one month's time so there will most likely be a lull in posting; however, all your good juju, lovin, well-wishes of luck and hints about jobs or apartments are welcome!

Lord knows Ima need all of it!

xoxo

seven-one-eight

Fail

2011-06-02T13:54:00.002-05:00

!!!

wtf

???

Without further ado, probably my favorite tap number. Not the most wow factor, but probably my favorite anyhow:

"hiya fellas, come on in!"

Heat Wave

2011-06-01T12:37:00.001-05:00

And God said, "Let there be summer."

And it was hot.

Immediately.

Frame By Frame {Closing Weekend}

2011-05-27T08:00:00.000-05:00

Hey friends! It's your last chance to catch Frame by Frame, the closing show for Project:Motion's 24th season! It's such a fun, diverse, accessible show--all inspired by film. My first choreographic project in Memphis closes the show with a kooky-pants animation inspired piece. We've worked our tails off and would love to share our love of dance/the arts with you! Please come support local dance in Memphis!

Where: Evergreen Theatre at the corner of Belvedere and Poplar in Midtown

When: 5/27-5/29 Friday and Saturday @ 8PM Sunday @ 2PM

Discount student rush tickets are available at the door

Sunday's performance is buy one get one free!

See you there, come say hello!

xoxo

Dancity-Do

2011-05-26T16:00:00.002-05:00

On a happier note...

Photo by Meilssa Anderson Sweazy via Facebook

Remember that FRAME BY FRAME resumes this weekend!

xoxo

Rejection {F. YOU-macher}

2011-05-26T12:00:00.001-05:00

**The interesting thing is that I originally wrote this post in early April. I decided not to post it because a woman called me before I could hit "publish" attempting to clear my issues up. Despite the nice phone call, no progress has been made and I am still fabric-less. Hence, a rant**

{Insert epithet of choice here} !!! Probably nothing I've done in the last year has been harder than getting a hold of this effing Schumacher Dragon fabric (which should absolutely not be the case). Not to mention that I am beginning to gain an impressive track record of unsolicited order cancellations/returns. F'realsies, I ordered AND paid AND said it was fine if I had to wait an extra month while it was back-ordered even though I called to check the inventory beforehand and was told it was in stock (pause. big inhale) and they STILL cancelled my order out of nowhere. They (Insider Fabric) insisted that I merely needed to replace the order and all will be fine but I had my suspicions. I can't win. So after an awkward online "chat with one of our representatives," I received a really nice phone call and apology. The order was reinstated although back ordered (once more) and would be shipped on May 20...hrm... May 24 I receive an email of an additional back order and a promise date of June 10. &^%!!@ I understand if you don't have it, but please stop making promises you can't keep. Since October have I been calling, tracking, paying, and placing orders but (surprisingly) yardage I have not. Only empty hands, broken promises, and cancellation emails. Okay, so I have some yardage, but I practically broke my neck for it and it's still not enough for the chair project and I can't (for the love of god) seem to get that last yard seriously, friends its 3 feet--although I'm ordering two just in case. Scratch that, I would order two if it wasn't impossible. Like it's in the stars that I'm doing something wrong or it's not meant to be or something stupid like that. The damn chair has been at the upholstery shop for over two months now (I won't be surprised if they ask me to pay them for storing it). This has moved beyond ridiculous and now I'm just pissy about the whole thing. It's too bad I really like the combo I've already had going...

SO I reach out to you my savvy and stylish friends. What fabrics are you loving/craving oooobbbbbseeessssssssiiinnnnggggg (and yes, that was a snarky jab at bloggers. Yeah, I did it, I'll totally go there) about? Do you have two yards you're holding out on me? I'm so tired of this, I'm ready to get this done. Click here if you need to refresh your memory on the chair I'm talkin 'bout.

Help.

Dragon: 13

Sissy Jupe: Fail

You Know What This Is {It's A Celebration Bitches}

2011-05-20T11:42:00.001-05:00

Image from Pinterest

Okay, so this post has nothing to do with Kanye. But seriously, do you know what today is?

DARILNG'S LAST DAY OF SCHOOL

Today I can't commit to a full post about everything this signifies for us, but it feels epic, surreal {insert adjective of your choice here}. And when I say us, I mean that his work and commitment has been a huge catalyst for so much for us together, although the success is his :). I'm so proud of Darling, beaming actually. He has officially completed his service with the Teach for America 2009 corps as well as 2 full years in a KIPP charter school. That's wicked intense y'all. I'm tired just typing it. In spite of dealing with much tragedy and difficulty right from the beginning of this journey (and by beginning I mean the moment when the announcer says, "On your mark... get set..."), he stuck it through: we moved to Memphis, we got our dog, and in a fundamental way, we began a new life together... After an honest personal evaluation and reflection, I can say that if it had been me, I don't think I would have been able to stick through it the way he did.

It is insane. It has been life changing. It has taught us both as much about ourselves individually as it has about us together. And things are going to continue to happen, non-stop. That's the thing about this guy, he overdoses on stress and adventure. He brings that into my life and its something I love most about what we share.

Peekie, I love you. I really am so proud of you. Thank you for everything you do for me, you take good care of us. I'm sorry that I have dancing all weekend but I will make it up to you I promise.

All my love,

Capeetie

xoxo

Roll Camera!

2011-05-19T16:28:00.002-05:00

...Final dress rehearsal tonight...

Did you get your tickets yet?

Also, Memphis Flyer is already talking about the show, check it out!

I just can't believe it's show time!
And also, can I just say my dancers/costumes/lights look A.MAZ.ING?!
My can sew better than your mom can :)
No, but seriously.
She Rocks!

And also, wish luck!

Adam West Knows...{Today}

2011-05-18T16:00:00.013-05:00

Still the funniest gif. ever, also feeling like I can relate, costume and all.

Le Sigh

Why is it that leading up to a performance everything happens at once?

Rule of Threes? Nines? Twelves?
It's like showing up to a traditional Italian family dinner with a dessert plate and still trying to eat a full meal.
Pile it high.

Inhale. Exhale. It's busy, and I'm googley-eyed but it's gonna be so good. I just gotta hold my shit together.

xoxo

Sneak Peek {Dancey Edition}

2011-05-17T11:33:00.001-05:00

Here's a peek into our final rehearsals.
{Trench coats = my piece}

Heads up, all that beat boxing is going to be live and its supa' cool when paired with tapping!!
My goal is to not get spell-bound by it and remember my steps.

+++

My mom is coming into town this afternoon! Don't worry, I'm not manic about it like last time, it was super chill and Cash loves having her around! Aside from dancing plans, we're totally going to check out the flooded river and indulge in some ballin' food! Mom has been a collaborator for 2 pieces in the Frame by Frame show, whipping up costumery that's seriously incredible. I'm excited that she'll have the opportunity to watch me perform with Project:Motion and see Memphis in the spring. Hope to show you some photos later this week!

xoxo

Remember Frame By Frame opens this weekend!

May 19, 20 8PM; 21 2PM
May 26, 27 8PM, 29 2PM

@ Evergreen Theatre on the corner of Belevedere and Poplar in Midtown Memphis

The Cat's Mee-ow

2011-05-16T13:30:00.005-05:00

My, my! We had a ball at the fundraiser. Everyone came dressed to the nines and I danced my Thoroughly Modern Emily pants off. Blame it on the fringe, I swear! The Side Street Steppers (pictured above) rocked my socks off with their Old-Delta banjo and washboard sound! Much love to them for coming to play for us. Another shout out to Good Golly Photography who captured the evening beautifully with both candid and photobooth shots. A third "w00t" goes out to ASOS for finally getting my order right. The dress I'm wearing is the first online clothing purchase I haven't returned (if you've read this blog for a little while you realize this is a personal win!). There were so many people who got involved in order to make the party/fundraiser a success, it's amazing to see a community of good people coming through. I say it over and over, but I'm telling you Project:Motion is the greatest group of people to be involved with. Amazing, amazing friendship and support thrives and is to be found there. Peeps I hope to always be connected with. The fundraising committee deserves major kudos and a huge thank you. I had so much fun! If you couldn't make it, please know that any size donation is always accepted here.

xoxoxo

A good looking group if I may say so

So here's the part where I begin to plug for the upcoming Frame by Frame show! (You're going to hear about it for the next two weeks so make my job easy and just come!!)

Y'all it's going to be a really strong performance, I'm bout proud and excited to be a part of it.

I'm so happy with my piece and the journey it has gone on.

Tech week begins tonight and the show opens this weekend.

Show your love

Buy your tickets here

Photos via Good Golly Photography, Facebook

The Google

2011-05-11T12:00:00.002-05:00

Did you catch the Google animation today celebrating the birthday of Martha Graham?

Wicked cool.

High Tide

2011-05-11T08:00:00.001-05:00

But I'm nice and DRY!

Thank you, friends, for your sweet inquiries. Please send your love and prayers (whatever your thing is) to folks here. Although most of us are fine, there are those who need some good juju.

Irony is not dead.

On higher ground than my profile pic...

Images via friends' Facebook pages and the Commercial Appeal
For more photo galleries click here

P.S. It seems silly now that I pointed out the high tide here.

P.P.S. From Vegan Crunk Blog (I think she says it well): parts of Memphis are flooded since the Mississippi River has crested at its highest level since 1937. But the national coverage makes it look like the whole city is underwater! Not so, my vegan friends. Most of the city is not underwater. About 900 homes were expected to flood before the river crested today, but most are in northern parts of the county or on a little river island called Harbor Town. I hope those people are back in their homes soon and the damage is minimal.

I've had a few friends from out of town express concern, but I'm totally fine in my Midtown home — far away from the muddy Mississippi. And most of our tourist attractions — Graceland, Soulsville, Sun Studio, the National Civil Rights Museum — are high and dry. Only Mud Island River Park, which is on an island in the river, is underwater. Most of the city is situated on a bluff, positioned pretty high above the flood stage.

Imagine That

2011-05-10T16:27:00.000-05:00

Patsy Cline, 1962

Anything sadder than an old country song?

It's featured in Frame by Frame and has me captivated every time.

Smokin'

2011-05-10T12:25:00.000-05:00

Although I'm typically a no-makeup gal I'm finding that a swipe of bright lipstick makes me feel fancy. This is my new (first?) favorite shade of red: MAC Ruby Woo - B11. It's not moisturizing (so beware if your lips are dry) but is super long lasting! I'm almost tempted to venture out into girl-world...

Stanky

2011-05-09T14:44:00.000-05:00

Oh Memphis...

This is most definitely a screen shot from an article on the Commercial Appeal's website. Yup, as in the official city paper of Memphis. Wez jus' b keepin' it real mayne.

Relax {Just Do It}

2011-05-09T11:41:00.001-05:00

It may be the approaching season, the feeling in the air that school's about to let out and long summer days are about to begin. It may be that Darling is headed to Philadelphia tonight and will be there for the next week, leaving Cash and I to fend for ourselves. It may be that the show is coming up, tech week is next week (!!) and all the finals and decisions and last-minutes are happening and it's coming together. It may be anticipation of my mom flying out here next week. I'm not entirely sure why, but I've continuously got this nervous, anxious feeling lately. When I get anxious, I talk too much. And then I feel embarrassed that I've said too much or said it out of turn or whatever the case may be, so I back track and try and talk my way into covering up what I previously said... needless to say, it's a vicious cycle. Do you do this? It's a bad habit that I don't care to admit to. But I do recognize it, so, don't judge to harshly. So all that is forthcoming... I'm not worried per se, just...anxious? Today is dedicated to shutting my mouth and relaxing a little. Enjoying the ride rather than anticipating and stressing over every detail of what's coming. It's all gonna work out. Everything's gonna be alright.

From Gams to Glam

2011-05-06T16:03:00.001-05:00

Remember tonight is Project: Motion's 1920's-themed fundraiser. $25 at the door. Free featured drink every hour. $3-cocktails and nibbles. Location? Well, that's a secret. But it's somewhere between the Madison Hotel and Main (*cough* Live From Memphis *cough*). Look for the speakeasy sign out front. The password isn't swordfish. Or is it?

Remember we will feature a host of diversions, including:

Live music by the Side Street Steppers;
A photobooth run by photographer Molly Kennedy, in which visitors can have their photo taken with Charlie Chaplin and The Kid;
Prohibition-era cocktails and wine for $3, plus a different free drink every hour;
A "tea station," courtesy of Starbucks, for the teetotalers in attendance;
A silent auction of items including locally made art and jewelry, tickets to Grizzlies and Redbirds games, tickets to theater events, restaurant gift certificates, wines from Fredric Koeppel's personal cellar, and more;
Hourly lessons on 1920s-era dances (ahem, Sissy Jupe is your Dance Mistress y'all)
Catering by local chef Michael Nabors;
The premiere of a locally made short film featuring the Project: Motion dancers; and
Later in the evening, music by DJ Jason Witnesse Sims.

Thank you so much for your continual support, hope to see you there!

Text via jack lab and chris davis

To Memphis With Love

2011-05-06T09:40:00.000-05:00

Image via NYTimes

This NPR interview from today's Morning Edition has me feeling all kinds of love for Memphis today. I'm awfully fond of the Memphis sound, Booker T is inextricable from that, and music and memory tend to sync up, intertwine, in my own mind. Memphis is historically a town of much conflict. Damn near everyone I know here has a love/hate relationship with this place; however, love is exactly what this town needs and love, when received, is received beautifully. I hope to never take my time here for granted. For me, Memphis is not home, it is not the place I will put down roots; but Memphis has been the catalyst for many changes in my life and myself. I feel I've learned a lot thus far. In spite of some rough patches in different facets of my life here, there is never a loss of beauty and soul. A rich, thick spirit pervades here, it's in the air. There is a place for the tempo, landscape, people, art, food, and heart of Memphis in my heart for always.

I hope to always have friends here.

xoxo

Hot Feet

2011-05-04T12:45:00.004-05:00

Hip to the Jive {Gams and Glam}

2011-05-04T09:00:00.002-05:00

It's fundraiser time friends...

Friday, May 6th, come to Live From Memphis (next to Madison Hotel) downtown and get Hip to the Jive with Project:Motion! Dapper up or dress down, but don't miss our Cat's Meow Speakeasy, featuring The Sidestreet Steppers, DJ Jason Witnesse Sims, delicious hooch (each hour features a free drink...the others are only $3) and yummy nibbles. Put your money on a silent auction item for your chance to get great art and catch the premiere of "Merde" the newest film short from Adam Remsen featuring Project:Motion dancers (me!).

My role for the evening is Dance Mistress, which means I'll dawn some fringe and teach you how to Lindy Hop, Charleston, and Black Bottom. Bring your swagger, it promises to be a swank, good time. Plus you'll be supporting local art/dance in Memphis. Win/Win.

Use code "Argyle" for $5 your ticket

Click here to purchase!

Before & After {DIY}

2011-05-03T09:00:00.005-05:00

Yellowstone National Park

Canyonlands National Park

knob detail

I recently refinished a pair of nightstands we inherited from Darling's childhood bedroom. Ditching the dingy white paint for a high-gloss, peacock blue and kid knobs for classic crystaline seemed to be just the right touch for these two beauties. My original plan was to paint the door fronts in a teal contrast; last minute, I opted for these national parks maps we had stashed in a drawer. From our small map collection, we chose places that were the most meaningful to us. I think it's a fun/alternative way display what was otherwise just taking up space! They're certainly not perfect (there are a few things I would change about the application process if I had a chance to try again) but overall I'm happy with the way they turned out!

Conflicted.

2011-05-02T16:32:00.001-05:00

Image Via Max Wagner

"I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy. Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that"

- Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr

Let's Go Grizzlies

2011-05-02T15:07:00.002-05:00

The Memphis Grizzlies beat the San Antonio Spurs on their home-turf at the FedEx Forum Friday 4/29, 99-91. This was the fourth time in NBA history that a Seed 8 team beat a Seed 1 team in the first round. An est. 150,000 people roamed downtown Memphis simultaneously for various other happenings. We went there.

The cool girl behind this new mural is also a collaborator for the Frame by Frame show. Multi-talented, she is.

Eating an Elephant

2011-05-02T12:35:00.004-05:00

Image via Melissa of Seen Memphis

If I am to approach blogging as some sort of journaling activity, I feel perplexed as to where I should begin. At what point do we talk about the death of Osama Bin Laden and what that means for our President, our country, the world? It's a huge deal. It would feel weird to post today and not recognize the historical significance, even if I don't want to expand or post too-political discussions publicly. When do we talk about the part where there are tornado sirens daily around this neck of the woods? About the destruction and death in Alabama, Mississippi, and Arkansas? About the flooding of the Mississippi and Wolf Rivers? When do we talk about the Memphis Grizzlies wins, about the missed music festival, about the refinished side tables, about upcoming happenings?

So where do you take the first bite?

The Suburbs {live}

2011-04-29T16:30:00.001-05:00

Image from Live FM

I have never really considered myself an Arcade Fire fan. I really liked the Funeral album when it was first released and was digging a few tracks from Neon Bible, but honestly hadn't given it much attention, the band isn't one I've followed up on. Then there was the whole unexpected Grammy '11 win which is very cool for them. On the flip-side I don't have TV and I really don't pay much attention to the awards other than catching the day-after highlights and best dressed list. Grammy's have virtually no affect on what I'm interested in listening to. Cut to a few weeks ago when I walked in the house to music playing, "What's this? This is nice" as I set my bags down. Darling responded that it was the newest Arcade Fire album The Suburbs and that they would be coming to the Orpheum (the gorgeous theatre where we saw Robert Plant) soon. Stub hub so graciously provided us with some Orchestra Level seats to the sold-out-for-weeks show for less than their original prices. Sa-weet!

To follow up on my intro, last night I may have converted to an Arcade Fire fan. To sum up the show, it was great. A few songs in particular were fantastic. I think few things are as unique and stimulating as the energy from a good live performance (of any variety). 1} The large group of Canadian musicians has so much talent. Reminded me of the Von Trapp family or Mormon kids, they all played 4+ instruments impeccably and really understood how to harmonize their vocals. Speaking of vocals, love Régine Chassagne's voice. It falls in line with my affinity for the voices of Joanna Newsom and the Coco Rosie sisters. 2} The acoustics of the Orpheum are remarkable. It's such an amazing theatre. See something there if you ever get the chance. 3} Winning Best Album at the Grammy's = a lot of cash for stellar live video projection art, amazing lighting, and a whole roadie crew that makes bouncing from song to song seamless. 4} Playing bells and/or violin never looked so fun.

Not the Memphis show, but a nice taste for you.

Memphis in May's Beale Street Music Festival kicks off tonight. The line up is pretty impressive this year. Maybe I'll see you there on Saturday (Cee-lo Green, friends)? For now, I plan on playing it by ear.

Happy Weekend

Camping: Earth Day Edition {In Photos}

2011-04-29T12:00:00.000-05:00

Here are some photos from our Earth Day/Easter weekend.

A big thank you to the Camping ELF for bringing her fancy camera and getting some great shots!

Recent tornado damage in Marianna, AR.

xoxo

What is the Grass?

2011-04-27T10:08:00.000-05:00

Walt Whitman. Leaves of Grass. "Song of Myself" Section 6.

6

A child said What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands;
How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more
than he.

I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green
stuff woven.

Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord,
A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropt,
Bearing the owner's name someway in the corners, that we may see
and remark, and say Whose?

Or I guess the grass is itself a child, the produced babe of the
vegetation.

Or I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic,
And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow zones,
Growing among black folks as among white,
Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the same, I
receive them the same.

And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves.

Tenderly will I use you curling grass,
It may be you transpire from the breasts of young men,
It may be if I had known them I would have loved them,
It may be you are from old people, or from offspring taken soon out
of their mothers' laps,
And here you are the mothers' laps.

This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old mothers,
Darker than the colorless beards of old men,
Dark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths.

O I perceive after all so many uttering tongues,
And I perceive they do not come from the roofs of mouths for
nothing.

I wish I could translate the hints about the dead young men and
women,
And the hints about old men and mothers, and the offspring taken
soon out of their laps.

What do you think has become of the young and old men?
And what do you think has become of the women and children?

They are alive and well somewhere,
The smallest sprout shows there is really no death,
And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the
end to arrest it,
And ceas'd the moment life appear'd.

All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses,
And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.

"Take A Hike..."

2011-04-26T13:26:00.000-05:00

... was, sort of, my initial mantra for the extended Easter weekend. Wait, hold up--that's exactly right extended weekend because, you see, in the South, Good Friday is a holiday for schools and businesses (Holla!) (this certainly was not the case where I grew up). So with that, we got a few friends together for camping at Bear Creek Lake, AR. And I was all geared up to do just that, "Take a Hike," get outside, expend my energy, take a dip in the refreshing cold lake, make vitamin D from the rays of the healing sun, eat good food, and, generally heal my soul.

Cut to reality. There were 5 humans and 4 dogs. All of us so desperate to get outside and indulge ourselves that we really over did things (I assume each of us had our own reason for doing so, not to mention the power of peer pressure). I would guess that we each consumed 8,000 calories Friday (we were car camping after all, plenty of room for coolers!) and boy did we do it up right! There was cedar smoked salmon with peppers + lemon + huge sprigs of fresh dill, bulgar, asparagus, dutch oven strawberry cake, smores, cold cuts, fresh pico de gallo + chips, deviled eggs, multiple s'mores... and I'm going to stop there because the list starts to become embarrassing after that... We did take a dip in the lake but otherwise getting up to add wood to the fire doesn't count as an "activity".

Each of us basically needed all-day Saturday to recover from Friday, taking the food consumption down a notch (fortunately) (*don't hear me wrong, it was still totally out of control*). And by Sunday, when I was all set to get physical and go hiking, it was time to pack up camp and leave.

Moral of the story: Get out to the woods more often. (And I do hope to take my own advice on this one as soon as dancing frees up weekends.)

Aside from being far lazier than anticipated, it was a most excellent weekend. Great to connect with Darling and friends, great to have Cash with us, so great to breathe some fresh air, sleep on the ground, read in the sunlight, swim in the cool water AND with all the pent up energy I had on Sunday I was able to unpacked everything before 1 and got started refinishing a set of side tables I've been wanting to work on. So, win (small victory).

It was Cashman, believe it or not, who had the worst hangover of anyone. Cash thought that we had moved to the woods (Although Darling was careful to explain, "Cash, this is a state park, it's much larger than a city park...") and there wasn't anything finer in the world according to that little pup's heart. You heard me the first time, 5 humans 4 pups, private lake access (oh man, he loves swimming), all the food and sticks in the world. Cash overdosed on fun. Once we arrived at home, had all ticks plucked and his coat bathed, he set off to bed with his over-sized-movie-star-sunglasses and a water bowl-- we've hardly seen him since. :)

Hope y'all also had a wonderful holiday

Wanderlust

2011-04-19T10:57:00.000-05:00

I remember sitting in Willemstad,
the blistering Caribbean heat (inescapable) who
sat on our cheeks, and shoulders
dripped through each lock of our hair
kissed noses and knees with freckles.

With you,
beneath an obnoxious, acid-yellow, sunbrella
we sipped margaritas (yours blended, mine on ice) and observed
through sweat streaked lashes, the Queen Emma Bridge
swing open and closed. Each toll of the bell,
tugs, ocean liners, fishing boats traverse.

Wealthy Dutch retirees on holiday,
drinking Amstels and chilled whites--
patterned button-downs, gold watches, straw hats.
Their patchwork of languages.

Dont' Ask

2011-04-18T16:46:00.001-05:00

It made sense but looked so bizarre, there on the screen.

Bookish {- Adjective. 1. given or devoted to reading or study.} 2011

2011-04-18T12:24:00.001-05:00

The Sun Also Rises - Earnest Hemingway

After completing The Paris Wife I instantly began scouring our bookshelves for Hemingway, specifically A Moveable Feast but it was not to be found i.e. we didn't have it. (I remedied that this weekend when Darling and I traded in a stack of paperbacks at a local used book store--Burke's for you Memphians.) Believe it or not, I actually managed to graduate with an English degree and ravenous love of American Fiction without ever before reading Hemingway, and, as it turns out, Darling is not a huge fan (prefers Faulkner, figures). So I took the infamous The Sun Also Rises in lieu of "the feast" to get started. More than I was struck by the awe or beauty of the writing in The Sun Also Rises, I recognize that, in its historical context, Hemingway's style was incredibly modern, revolutionary, in the 1920s. But to the present-day reader, myself, I found the verb-driven prose came across overall as dry and lacking in expression or development. This is not to say that I did not enjoy the read, because it is good, but not mind-blowingly so. Reading about Jack and his posse's journey to Spain to view the running of the bulls in Pamplona recalls the thrill of traveling in general, bringing to mind my own traveling stories (my experience riding the bus from Prague to Budapest, for example) and the pace moves very quickly. The boisterous and masculine dialogue, drinking, and general swagger of every character felt a little monotonous, however. We are told all differentiation among characters as it is embedded in dialogue, (he is nice, he is needy) rather than really ever being shown the different qualities. This struck me as an odd, counter-intuitive notion for his writing considering the prose is so verb-driven (I guess for me, action signifies "doing"). I think the best writing occurs in the last 50 pages, where the bull fighting takes center stage and is given full attention. The episode almost feels as if pulled from another novel in the way it stands out from the other 200 pages. It's this snippet that displayed for me, the reputation of Hemingway. I've not given up on this guy, like I said A Moveable Feast is in the queue and from what I gather, Hemingway at his best is an essay writer and not a novelist. This conversation is to be continued.

Hands {Mano.Main}

2011-04-15T13:35:00.000-05:00

Most images from pinterest

I'm all about videos lately. Sorry if you're not down with video watching, although, I do hope you watch and enjoy them.

Frame By Frame {Dance Choreographed for Film: PINA}

2011-04-14T15:04:00.001-05:00

We've seen some incredible dancing choreographed for film on this blog before

but

A friend recently shared this trailer with me that takes this concept to a whole new level.

Pina is a German film and releases in various EU countries over the next month or so.

I can't believe there are no US release dates scheduled yet.

I'm so intrigued.

Dance and film, you really do get along beautifully.