A Day at the Circus, A Night at the Zoo

Dear 17 Followers:

2010-11-18T16:09:00.000-05:00

I find myself visiting the circus and the zoo less and less.
But don't lose touch completely.
See me here and here.
xo

2010-09-23T08:23:00.002-04:00

A perfectly casual sunset wedding with a crew close to home.
A belated Congratulations to Jon and Rebecca.
xo

A Sunday Wedding

2010-08-30T14:16:00.003-04:00

Kelsey, a delight all her own married her perfect match, Erik, last Sunday at the Bethesda Boys School Chapel.
During the preparation process the bridesmaids floated around frivolously with The Paris Market as our backdrop.

On A Continuing Note.....

2010-08-30T13:56:00.003-04:00

Portrait from a beloved friend, scroll down.
And then scroll back up and check out this:
MEATLOAF MONDAYS

Taylor Williams: Illustrator and Birthday Girl

2010-07-16T13:49:00.004-04:00

I am lucky to have so many talented friends with wonderful personalities, and one of my favorites was born on this date, 23 years ago.
She has the best looking nose, great smile, and her hair has the most splendid way of curling itself. She's so pretty. And the best dancer I have had the privilege to dance with.

Aside from her good looks and charming personality, she's created a quirky style of illustration. Whenever I browse through her drawings I can't help but smile. They are unique and specific to who she is.

For more of her sensible illustrations check out her website, she did herself:
www.taylorwilliamsillustration.com
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TAY TAY!

2010-07-14T15:48:00.005-04:00

What a rainy afternoon while watching BBC versions of Jane Austen films, can inspire. I suppose I am not trapped inside, but I don't have an umbrella and the rain is coming down in buckets. Even more of a caution, the lightening and thunder are beaming and booming.
There has been an update:

An Upwards Posture

2010-07-14T12:31:00.003-04:00

I've been spending my days looking up, and it's such a pleasant view...
If one has forgotten.

After the Sun Sets.... a continuation

2010-07-06T05:09:00.003-04:00

The Magic Flute reminds me of my childhood living in southern California. Listening to opera always made me wish for gray skies and thunderstorms.

When the sun has set, and I need entertainment: A look at some Wonderful Collection

2010-07-05T19:25:00.003-04:00

One day this past winter, my friend Haylie sent me this exceptionally wonderful video that was sent to her from Ginny. Both of these lovely ladies have quite the collection of things themselves. So it makes sense that I would discover this video through Haylie, who discovered it through Ginny.
Whoever reads this blog, if the sun has set and you need some entertainment on your side of the ocean watch Grandma's Bottle Village: The Art of Tressa Prisbrey
So good.

In France, Parisians go on Vacation

2010-07-03T13:18:00.003-04:00

School is out.
The French children are free.
And all the Parisians go elsewhere. I have been told to expect hearing less French and more of other languages.
This past week my planner lacked appointments and things to do. For next week it's completely bare with an exception to my doodles that have bled through.
I really though should find a way to get a tan.
I'm pretty pale.

Trying to Keep Up

2010-07-01T16:40:00.003-04:00

Sometimes I feel so behind with my fashion endeavors, especially with a lack of a sewing machine.
But I am getting by.
For more, click.

Kelsey Garrity(-Riley) and illustrating in Itailian

2010-06-14T06:10:00.004-04:00

It charms me every time.
Whenever I see the work of my dear friend Kelsey I want to discover the door that will open into the setting of her illustrations. I want to associate with the animals that wear nothing else what I would wear myself. I want to meet each and everyone of the characters she creates. Oh to sit and have peppermint tea and eat rose biscuits with them, and listen to how they came about. This is a wish that keeps resurfacing each and every time I look at Kelsey's work.

For more of her charming, delicate, curious, imaginative, and sensibly color-schemed work, click here.
And just as inventive, and equally intriguing, her wonderful fiance: Erik Riley

Through my Front Door

2010-06-10T04:00:00.003-04:00

I like it here.
I like my friends.
I like the language.
I like my job.
I like my room.
I like this city.

My Welcomed Home, and Starting Somewhere

2010-03-17T19:22:00.006-04:00

Georgia has me until May.
My mind still has a steady flow of inspiration from Paris. Even though it would be nice to still be there as the layers of clothing get thinner and thinner, and the temperature gets higher and higher, convincing all of the flowers in their lovely little flower boxes to come out and show their pretty, little selves. I have been having sudden cravings for flowers; fresh and dried, liberty and chintz. I came home to my parents' house, with a fresh made bed of floral linens, which furthermore enticed my fancy for flowers.
I will be posting more on Hemingway, as I continue to save money in Savannah and create.
For now, all I have to offer is an image of my cat amongst my musings from Tim Walker.

Welcoming March

2010-02-26T21:35:00.004-05:00

If one needs something to glance through for the month of March.....
click> www.developingseams.blogspot.com

New Website

2010-02-16T13:02:00.003-05:00

Sam does good work...

After a worthwhile wait, my website is officially up.

click here.

A Past-Due Post

2010-02-12T23:21:00.000-05:00

Perhaps I shouldn't neglect this blog completely. I like to think that a passerby, or two, or maybe even three, stops by A Day at the Circus, A Night at the Zoo every now and again.
I hope.
Here's to, once more...
catching up.
And for more regular, dependent postings visit me here.

A Window with a View

2010-01-12T16:28:00.002-05:00

The process of settling in....

READ MORE

Bonne Annee: Starting the New Year Royally

2010-01-11T17:34:00.007-05:00

See and Read more ICI/HERE!

Crowned King for the Year just for eating a slice of sweets and finding the trinket.

Up, upon the Hill top

2010-01-10T13:47:00.012-05:00

After Kelsey and Erik's departure, Taylor and I continued to lengthen our walking paths through this wonderful city of Paris. Our short Winter days have been full. Beginning with calm awakenings to Chopin music, snow flurries falling, and torn off pieces from fresh baguettes with homemade banana jam spread heavily across. Our days are composed of walking, walking, walking with usually a cup of chocolat chaud in between, and ending with aching legs (our fingers are crossed that aching turns into toned legs)and a camera full with photographs. It was from our climb up to the beautiful Sacre-Coeur in Montmartre that I became slightly overwhelmed with what this city has to offer, and alas, with what it also expects. Which is, fluency in French. It has been a week or so, and I would like to believe that my french is improving, yet I still have such a difficulty pronouncing "macaron". It is such a shame, because they happen to be my favorite. I hope whoever you are who reads my thoughts, I invite you to continue. Please become a follower of The Paris Market blog, and keep me company as I try and tackle the overwhelming.

Growing Up Abstract

2009-12-27T02:06:00.004-05:00

Growing up in our home were my mother's large canvas paintings. Abstract and non-objective. They were always open to individual interpretation. One of my brothers and I were discussing our mom's paintings at some point recently. We reminded eachother what we used to see in them. I remember being young in California and sharing the same interpretations with my childhood friends. Growing up I had friends who played along, offering up their visions and stories. And then I had a few friends who may have just been a little baffled by those large abstract canvases and the stories I offered to go with them.
With all that said, I am home at my parent's. And these large canvas paintings, abstract and non-objective, welcome me back. And it still feels so comfortable to be at home.

Merry Christmas and...

2009-12-25T18:37:00.004-05:00

Joyeux Noel
Feliz Navidad
Fröhliches Weihnachten
Buon Natale
etc., etc.

The Friendly Beasts
Jesus our brother kind and good
Was humbly born in a stable of wood
And the friendly beasts around him stood
Jesus our brother kind and good

I said the donkey shaggy and brown
I carried his mother up hill and down
I carried him safely to Bethlehem town
I said the donkey shaggy and brown

And I said the cow all white and red
I gave him my manger for a bed
I gave him my hay for to pillow his head
I said the cow all white and red

I said the sheep with a curly horn
I have him my wool for his blanket warm
And he wore my coat on that Christmas morn
I said the sheep with a curly horn

I said the dove from the rafters high
Cooed him to sleep that he should not cry
We cooed him to sleep my love and I
I said the dove from the rafters high

And I said the camel all yellow and black
Over the desert upon my back
I brought him a gift in the wise men's pack
I said the camel all yellow and black

Thus every beast remembering it well
In the stable dark was so proud to tell
Of the gifts that they gave Emmanuel
The gifts that they gave Emmanuel

My Afternoon with Maud

2009-12-23T18:57:00.009-05:00

This afternoon: boy, did I lounge around. But I also finished making and crafting together all of my give-to Christmas gifts. I have been enjoying Eric Rohmer's series of The Six Moral Tales. One of my favorite's is My Night at Maud's. It is a black&white French New Wave film. Set in Clermont, France with Winter as the backdrop. What seems to be a simple film about a man searching for love, it is French, and as we all know, French films are always more complex than they initially seem to be.

There is something nice with black&white movies. They are simple in themselves.
What are some of your favorite black&white movies, please share.
Now that the sun has set and the temperature outside has dropped. It is due time for me to continue reading Little Women with a cup of hot cocoa by the fire.
I leave with a parting gift of black&white (slightly shook) simplicity.

Fading Faces

2009-12-19T00:29:00.016-05:00

Faces fading with all different tones in sephia. Not only are the fashions remarkable; buttoned up lace gathered collars and layers, layers, layers. The character in their faces offer all sorts of imagining stories. It is amazing to think how different their lives were. Even such simple tasks were approached with entirely different mindsets.
What a beautiful image a face can express.
Feel free to click on the image for a larger view.

I must admit that this discovery was not one of my own. Rather, I give my thanks to Paula at the Paris Market. She and her husband, Taras have found the most amazing things for their shop on Broughton street in Savannah, Georgia. I figured since I was leaving the store, I may as well splurge a bit and take a little piece of it with me.

Settling In

2009-12-18T00:03:00.009-05:00

I am surprised/disturbed, yet still enchanted by the ongoing editing process of my posessions. I have been unpacking my belongings and have been trying to create a space while I am stationed at my parent's house in Powder Springs, Georgia. The funny thing is that I still get a child-like excitement when unpacking certain things. I promise, the excitement never ceases especially once coming across a specific object at the bottom of one suitcase. Wrapped in layers of cream-colored, laced slips was Emily's made doll. I took her out with delicate hands, and immediately decided that I wanted her hanging right above me when I sleep. With her wrapped lace head and her puckered lips, good dreams are bound to come from her. I just can tell. If money grew on trees, I would pick some off and buy the entire collection of dolls. I have fond memories while spending time in Brooklyn earlier this summer with Emily, Paul, and Haylie. It was then these beautiful creations were being developed.

I am so pleased to suggest that everyone check out more of Emily's work at www.emilymariecox.com

2009-12-17T12:24:00.005-05:00

Boudoir

Garden

Vintage

Check out more of sweet Kelsey's Christmas illustrations here on The Paris Market website

Give Someone a Bear Hug

2009-12-17T10:25:00.002-05:00

As of this morning, waking up in my old bed, and having my mom start my day off with some hot cocoa. I feel happy. The past few days I have been sentimental in regards to my departure from Savannah, Georgia. I said goodbye to most everyone I still knew after my four years of residence. And I stocked up on "bear hugs" to last me at least until mid-January. Aside from hugs of farewell it really is the perfect season to offer warmth to eachother with a nice, tight-squeezed "bear hug".
To be honest, John's motives behind this painting probably aren't as cut and dry. I think there is something like, "bear" and "reba" have the same letters. And for me, anything other than a comparison to Reba McEntire is much appreciated. Take whatever you wish from it, but go find yourself a bear.
(Thumbnail from John Kesling's "An Excuse To Paint a Bear")

And how it goes....

2009-12-14T15:58:00.006-05:00

Our house on Park Avenue, east of Forsyth, held a grand sale. The sidewalk was lined with stuff that could not be packed up and placed in any sort of suitcase heading east to France. Mannequins, clothing, dressers, a trumpet, typewriters, balls of yarn, old window frames, and trinkets. It was an overcast weekend and we played opera in the backround to enlighten the shopper's experience.
I am preparing for this new life after Savannah. I wish that I could make a post featuring all things scanned in which remind me of this quaint, Southern city. I am at a loss of images, only words. I would feature the moss like so....

"spanish moss"

and the caption would read, "oh how romantic the moss seems in Savannah. Like the hair of a graying old woman, it just hangs off the arms of the awkward oak tree branches"
Then I would scan in a piece of Paula Deen's fried chicken, and right under it, her pecan pie. Like so....

"fried chicken"
"pecan pie"

and I would write a few words about the past four years waiting tables there.
After my Lady and Sons tribute I would scan in some found trinkets.

"trinket #1"

"trinket #2"

"trinket #3"

and each would have a story.

My time left in Savannah is limited. It is a bittersweet feeling to pack up my most beloved belongings and leave a place I've given myself to for a few good years. For anyone who reads this I wish to offer up real images of what Savannah is for me. But like I mentioned, my time is short, and there is so much to show.

goodbye Savannah, Georgia.

The Art of Thread Pressing

2009-10-14T23:08:00.007-04:00

My co-worker came upstairs after finding a special little treasure in the old book cabinet downstairs in the basement. He held this worn book, and opened each page with delicate turning. Pressed in every single page is a small bundle of thread. With 107 pages, there are approximately 53 colorful teaspoon sized threads. Each of these small bundles create the simplest, most interesting little designs against the yellowing pages of french literature.
It is so special to me.

If anyone knows the real art behind thread pressing, Please, by all means, feel free to share.

Something to Look Forward to

2009-10-14T22:41:00.006-04:00

images borrowed from The Authentic Bistros of Paris, Francois Thomazeau and Sylvain Ageorges

Not that I haven't been completely wild for Savannah, because I have. These days are spent either waiting tables at The Lady's or behind the counter at the Market, either way saving money. In the time in between, like walking to and from work, is the time I really appreciate this town. Robert Redford and crew are here, shooting for a movie. Which in itself gives me great pleasure knowing that the famed and fortuned, scouted and chose to illuminate a film with Savannah as the backdrop.

So I have fallen into routine.
Hot cocoa in the morning. It is usually rushed because I like to soak up as much sleep as I can. But I like to think that my days in Paris, I will be able to stop in to my neighborhood cafe, and take my sweet Parisian time, sipping slowly on my hot cocoa, two and a half more months to appreciate the present, and...something to look forward to.

Some of my Staples

2009-10-07T23:37:00.017-04:00

The simplicity of single objects.
Website in the works....

2009-10-04T22:39:00.009-04:00

October is really a nice month, composed of Libras and Scorpios. The leaves begin to change in Georgia. Conference occurs, and is wonderful every session. Martha Stewart puts out a really good magazine issue. Children start to think about what they want to be for Halloween. Paris Fashion Week. There is a special aisle in the grocery store devoted to candy; it is cheap and it comes in bulk. I have been spending these early October days treating myself to pumpkin butter on everything. On ice cream, on pancakes, on toast, bagels, etc. And it seems completely justified because it is October. I think it is a good month.

This past Friday, in celebration of the new month and this ideal weather, I bought myself a ticket to the Savannah Philharmonic's performance of Verdi Requiem. It was held at the Cathedral of St. John the baptist. The entire performance was so majestically well-done that during a few moments I felt myself melting in the pew.

And I may get in trouble for posting this, but I would do it, just an attempt to offer a hint of what I experienced Friday night...

Charles Owen Baggett, the third

2009-10-02T05:09:00.004-04:00

Born on September 30th, 2009. My baby nephew was born.
He was 8 lbs, 2 oz, and about 19 inches long.
Congratulations Charlie and Carolyn!

...Because I know how everyone loves a good ole' picture of a newborn.
My friend Sofya made the best comment, "Well you have to consider how compact they must be to fit in that space."

Catching up with the Calender

2009-09-30T22:11:00.013-04:00

We have been indulging in cotton candy and clown noses at The Paris Market. As the weather turns and the circus excitement fades away; the windows are now in the process of change, much like some of the autumn leaves. Since I feel behind with my blogging updates, I thought a brief look at the past few window displays would be appropriate.
(my apologies for the lacking photographs)

August-September

June-July

Kelsey painted the loveliest flower motif for the window.

April-May
Natural Curiosities to come...

Judging Books by Covers

2009-09-29T21:27:00.008-04:00

My inspiration comes from an antique bakery-door cabinet, which resides downstairs in the basement of the Paris Market. Surrounded by majestic chandeliers from Argentina, this humble cabinet holds abundantly, old school books from Belgium. They sit stacked, all in aged, uniformed paper covers. Some are more worn from handle than others, but all stacked together, they appear to be a royal army of insightful information.
As I prepare for my big move to Paris set for the end of this year, I have put aside some of my most treasured books that may be too heavy for the move to Europe. I feel as though I am giving them a temporary parting gift, perhaps one can view it as a dress for a new occasion; a unified cover specified to it's individual character.

2009-09-21T19:55:00.006-04:00

What a lazy summer.
When thinking back on these past few months I can't get out of my head Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong's rendition of, "Summertime"
Summertime and the livin' is easy,
Fish are jumpin', and the cotton is high
Oh your daddy's rich and your ma is good lookin',
So hush little baby, don't you cry
One of these mornings
You're goin' to rise up singing
Then you'll spread your wings
And you'll take to the sky.
Perhaps this is me; rising and singing. I have completed my senior year. I have completed my four years of college education. I have my degree. The summer was lazy. I can acknowledge that openly, but now I feel motivated to spread my wings and take to the sky.

The PICTURE of DORIAN GRAY -Oscar Wilde

2009-09-21T00:49:00.003-04:00

"I have grown to love secrecy. It seems to be the one thing that can make modern life mysterious or marvelous to us. The commonest thing is delightful if one only hides it."

Hello Stranger

2009-06-03T09:35:00.002-04:00

Alas, I return.
Senior year consumed me. Head first until I was completely engulfed along with my varied gaged knitting needles and several types of yarn. All is over, and I continue to catch up with my sleep until I go to the big apple.

New Windows in Paris

2009-02-26T21:46:00.003-05:00

The following was done for the new year, and I finally got around to capturing it.

Ernest.

2009-02-17T21:50:00.003-05:00

I am in the process of developing a new blog exclusively for my senior collection.
check it> www.bullknits.blogspot.com

Windowed Months

2009-02-17T02:54:00.005-05:00

With January gone and February's days turning past quicker than expected, the store's windows are welcoming change. I feel so honored to be associated with The Paris Market, and even more, to help Paula and Matt with window displays.
January

February

www.theparismarket.com

Pretty Callused Pointer Fingers

2009-02-16T00:54:00.004-05:00

The beginnings of muslin III, from Senior II.
My apologies for the blurry depictions.

A MOVEABLE FEAST, Ernest Hemingway

2009-02-02T09:38:00.002-05:00

It feels as though the list of what I have is catching up with the list of what I want.
We've been staying in for the most part. Staying in, but hanging out. And time has been moving along in the most interesting manner.
It is what I read this morning. With the overcast, gray light. My bay window. My knitting needles. And page 32.

2009-01-28T18:58:00.008-05:00

living lovely

2009-01-22T14:23:00.007-05:00

Things have been busy.
Taylor, Kelsey, and I are finally beginning to call this blue house on Park Avenue, Home. KELSEY PUTS IT BEST.
More and more each day do I appreciate their company.

And a youth said, Speak to us of Friendship. And he answered, saying: Your friend is your needs answered. He is your field which you sow with love and reap with thanksgiving.
And He is your board and your fireside. For you come to him with your hunger, and you seek him for peace.

When your friend speaks his mind you fear not the "nay" in your own mind, nor do you withhold the "ay."
And When he is silent your heart ceases not to listen to his heart;
For without words, in friendship, all thoughts, all desires, all expectations are born and shared, with joy that is unacclaimed.
When you part from your friend, you grieve not;
For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.

And let there be no purpose in friendship save the deepening of the spirit.
For love that seeks aught but the disclosure of its own mystery is not love but a net cast forth: and only the unprofitable is caught.

And let your best be for your friend.
If he must know the ebb of your tide, let him know its flood also.
For what is your friend that you should seek him with hours to kill?
Seek him always with hours to live.
For it is his to fill your need, but not your emptiness.
And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures.
For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.
The PROPHET, Kahlil Gibran

2009-01-06T12:04:00.002-05:00

One of my fondest memories of my grandfather occurred during one of our visits up North to Victoria, Canada. It was my mom, Nate, and I who were there to spend time with Grandma and Grandfather. The three of us had gone on an exploration through downtown Vancouver, and made a significant stop on the sidewalk in front of a street band. They were Irishmen with Irish spirit in their songs and in their instruments. Their charm and rhythms were so contagious that it very much became an atmosphere that we wanted to keep with us always; in our pockets, in our suitcases, through our ears, and in our heads. Resulting in a purchase of a low-quality, burned edition the band was selling behind them on a worn tabletop. The music was especially endearing to my mom, Nate, and I because after that performance we would drive back to Victoria, home to our grandfather, an Irishman; straight from Ireland who ate a baked, whole potato every chance he could. Now once we returned back to the house we found a CD player, brought it into the kitchen, setting it on the breakfast table and pressed "play". Realizing what he heard were fiddles and Old Irish tunes, my grandfather began to jump and dance in the kitchen. His spirit was entirely lifted. He became a tangible image of what those band members might turn out looking like years and years later. He then, opened the freezer door, pulled out a vanilla ice cream container and ice cream cones from the cupboard and started scooping ice into two cones. For myself and Nate. He filled the cone to the very tip, making sure not a single hollow pocket without ice cream remained in the entire cone. It was the heaviest cone I had ever held, and knowing that it was filled with sweet vanilla ice cream made me float with happiness. We sat there in the kitchen, Nate and I, eating ice cream, listening to Irish tunes, and watching our Grandfather, an Irishman dancing. Everything was so good.

These Days

2009-01-06T12:00:00.005-05:00

One Long Blow

2008-12-30T21:08:00.002-05:00

Me and Einstein

2008-12-30T10:36:00.002-05:00

Bottles with Messages: Messages in Bottles

2008-12-28T00:57:00.007-05:00

We were at Lens Crafters and it went something like this:
Jordan: I have my polaroid camera with me.
Reba: Take a picture of me.
Jordan: Here?! okay, but it will make a loud noise.
Reba: Let me first put on some glasses.

Happy Anniversary Mum&Pops.

2008-12-23T09:51:00.002-05:00

2008-12-21T17:45:00.014-05:00

Sheet music seems most appealing during this time of year. The good and the less good of tones and pitches blend together to echo out carols of delight. I am convinced that my own voice becomes better during this time of year, and an overwhelming burst of confidence hiding in the bottom of my diaphragm from January to November seems to make a once-a-year appearance along with Santa and his reindeers*.
But as we sing the Christmas hymns in sacrament meeting, I feel as though we are but a few harmonies away from the tabernacle choir, and that in itself is something to write home about.
'Tis also the season, not only to sing, but to listen to Christmas music. This year is my third year in which I have had the opportunity to binge on Sufjan Stevens, who sings some mighty holiday melodies. All of his tunes are simple and wonderful, and each year it seems that I allow myself to attach my ears to a single song of his. Vol.III: DING!DONG! has been on repeat, and more specifically is the traditional 12th century French carol, "Orientis Partibus" or "The Friendly Beasts"

*I would love a taxidermied reindeer for Christmas, and I would pay to see a taxidermied Santa, if there is such a thing.

2008-12-20T21:28:00.005-05:00

Messy Room
by Shel Silverstein

Whosever room this is should be ashamed!
His underwear is hanging on the lamp.
His raincoat is there in the overstuffed chair,
And the chair is becoming quite mucky and damp.
His workbook is wedged in the window,
His sweater's been thrown on the floor.
His scarf and one ski are beneath the TV,
And his pants have been carelessly hung on the door.
His books are all jammed in the closet,
His vest has been left in the hall.
A lizard named Ed is asleep in his bed,
And his smelly old sock has been stuck to the wall.
Whosever room this is should be ashamed!
Donald or Robert or Willie or--
Huh? You say it's mine? Oh, dear,
I knew it looked familiar!

The unexpected, ever-so comforting Woody Allen

2008-12-18T08:25:00.004-05:00

I don't mind spending evenings alone, as long as I have a collective amount of movies I can watch one after another as I eat tomato soup and knit my Christmas presents. I've been cut from work at the Market once more, and luckily I can "rent" dvds for free at the public library.
Woody Allen after Woody Allen after Woody Allen.
I'm reliving 1970's New York.

Muslin:III

2008-12-16T23:18:00.000-05:00

Still in an unfinished state, with work still to be done on the back and adding the sleeves.

Illustration of Muslin:III

2008-12-16T14:26:00.000-05:00

Indulging in Georgia Geography

2008-12-15T09:08:00.000-05:00

It started out with a simple, familiar drive. A drive I drove at least once a month, I-16West to I-75North. That is, until Kelsey pulled out her handwritten directions of lefts and rights on the curved country roads through Georgia. Rolled hay stacks, orchards of pecans trees, and a series of steeple church houses composed of a variety of Christian denominations; Baptists, Methodists, Presbyterians, Lutherans, etc. all epitomize the South. We made several stops to confirm our directions, and a couple stops for the sake of a sentimental souvenir. Our favorite place, no argument, was a trading post outside of the small town of Thompson. We were greeted by an abundant amount of rabbits and a toothless, white-haired, overall-wearing man. His merchandise was all old: aged, worn, and expired; yet he managed to keep himself updated by wearing a modern pair of sunglasses. His things were overpriced as if he were charging for the layers of dust. I made no purchases, but allowed myself to indulge in taking digital photographs. Our journey continued Northeast towards Athens, where introductions were made, tours were taken, and philosophical topics were discussed.
Our hopes are to visit once more to this trading post, and if Kelsey gets engaged anytime soon this is where her wedding registry will be.

Joyeux Noël !

2008-12-12T09:29:00.000-05:00

With the lack of cold weather here in Savannah, it seems easy to procrastinate on all the little things to do during the Christmas season, but it's nice to know these things are still getting done.
I woke up early, considering it was a Saturday; slipped on a sweater dress, splurged on some Polaroid film, and walked around the beautiful historic district. During the first Saturday of December, the people of Savannah gather in the morning to deck their squares of holiday cheer. Rolls of red ribbon, hot beverages, fresh evergreen trimmings, and Krispy Kreme donuts surplussed every square I strolled by, along with good spirits and an overall excitement for the season to come. Some of Savannah's trees still have their bright autumn leaves, which allows for surrounding warmer tones, opposed to cold, bare branches. The old cathedrals downtown sing along to the Christmas spirit; once the hand hits the hour the bells continue to play as they do during the year, but along with the familiar chimes are chimes of Christmas tunes, O Holy Night, Silent Night, Little Town of Bethlehem. It is so wonderful being in a city this time of year.

If one is hanging around at home, searching for Christmas inspiration, listen to this Christmas Message from Dieter F. Uchtdorf. Listen to it in the bath, while you're cooking, while you're eating, sipping on hot cocoa or herbal tea, listen to this while you make Christmas gifts, while you draw, paint, knit, sew, or while you wrap your gifts. It's a simple, pleasant message for all.

Muslin:II

2008-12-10T14:40:00.000-05:00

2008-12-10T09:56:00.000-05:00

I hope to always have Paris myself.

A lesson a day on Rosetta Stone.
Speaking with Isabelle.
Continuously watching French films; Jean-Luc Godard, François Truffaut, Eric Rohmer.
Trying to research applications for a working visa.
Keeping my fingers crossed,
my toes crossed,
my eyes crossed.
Throwing pennies in fountains.
Making a wish when I see three birds on a telephone wire.
Blowing out birthday candles.
Breaking wishbones.
Finding a penny head's up, then wearing it on my left shoe.
and holding my breath when going through tunnels.
One of those are bound to get me there.

Something to start one's day.

Muslin: I

2008-12-05T22:51:00.000-05:00

Done in the beginning of Fall quarter. The calluses on my fingertips were slowly beginning to form as I spent my hours on my futon watching continuous amounts of films, and listening to continuous amounts of books on CD.

The Art of Fur Wrapping

2008-12-05T19:31:00.001-05:00

Searching for cardboard boxes and hoping that our new house on park avenue comes with taxidermy. Kelsey and I have our minds on coming across such a discovery. I've discussed the idea of hanging fur of deceased animals with several people, and have been getting mixed reviews. Regardless of all the opinions, I think such a masculine element would look handsome within a house of three girls.
Baking, perfume, make-up, dresses, jewelry, and taxidermy.

tax·i·der·my (tks-dûrm)
n.
The art or operation of preparing, stuffing, and mounting the skins of dead animals
for exhibition in a lifelike state.
taxi·dermal, taxi·dermic adj.
taxi·dermist n

2008-12-04T13:51:00.000-05:00

Emily, meet Lucille.
Lucille, this is Emily.

2008-12-04T13:47:00.000-05:00

-Inspired by a warm mug filled with hot cocoa, listening to past Christmas devotionals, and collecting my thoughts from fall quarter.

2008-12-03T12:15:00.002-05:00

-Taunted by a Library fee, and an urgency to inhale the scent of old books; Nick, Kelsey, and I ventured to Savannah's public library. This December weather was just nippy enough to welcome indoor activities, and neither one of them had been to the library on Bull Street. About an hour had passed, the three of us were surrounded by plastic-sleeved covered books residing on painted metal bookshelves. I became a tourist and insisted on photo documentation.
-We were tempted by other forms of media to entertain our minds, eyes, and ears; resulting in loaded arms of books, DVDs, and books on CD.
-Our level of gratitude towards public participation at the library was at its highest peak. To further our happiness, in the empty lot next door we found an abandoned piece of furniture. I suggested photo documentation, which resulted in a photoshoot.
-Exhausted due to severe model treatment we turned to a homemade meal back at their apartment across the park. Indulging in Kelsey's goodness in the kitchen, we started our movie marathon and ate pumpkin soup and salad.
-Several movies later, we reconvened in the kitchen for a homemade pizza: midnight snack.
-I leave with a parting gift; A somewhat sneaky attempt of Nick capturing Kelsey and I pretending to be on a cooking show. Nick was really embarrassed for us because we were actually getting quite involved in our imaginations. We are making hot chocolate with steamed milk.

Some of my Work...

2008-12-02T11:46:00.000-05:00

click on photographs for a larger view...

Cheers to my lovely, lovely model: Kelsey
and to my brilliant photographer: Nick

Nostalgic for the South of France

2008-12-02T10:51:00.000-05:00

A little longer than a year ago I was returning from two months spent in Lacoste, France. These past few months since the start of the new quarter until now, after Thanksgiving, I have been reflecting on times in Provence. Repeatedly, I have visited my large pile of Polaroids taken from those days. This time last year I was in a bittersweet mood. I was happy for my long list of new experiences, my new friends, and to have been able to see my family after two-months abroad. Yet, I felt a separation between those new friends, who were back with their own families, and a seperation between my hair, which was indeed only about a centimeter long, har har.
With a year gone by I have developed those friendships and have slowly allowed my hair to grow out. Just as a nostalgic reflection I wanted to share a few polaroids of my time a year ago.

-It was a cloudy Sunday morning. Taylor and I, along with a small group, drove to a wonderful town called, Isle sur la Sorgues. It was market day, and there were stands after stands of wonderful antiqued treasures. Being poor art students in a foreign country, our budgets only allowed for free photographs. Smitten by this fabulous woman's appearance, I asked in broken French if I could capture her image. She agreed by a nod, and I hope to have this captured image and Sunday souvenir forever.

-Kelsey was my roommate. In our room was a connecting cave, which served multiple purposes; a concert hall where we danced, opera sang, and harmonica played. and our studio, where Kelsey painted often. Eventually, as the quarter continued, Kelsey and I pushed our beds together in hopes for nightly slumber parties.

-taken without permission; a wonderful, accurate illustration by Kelsey, of a one-time, one-night occurrence, resulting in crossed fingers for continuous slumber parties until we were forced to separate our beds.

-This was taken in Avignon. We had eaten lunch, ridden the carousel, and piled into a photo booth.

-Count us, we're all there.

A Weekend at Home; Thanks Thanksgiving

2008-12-02T10:34:00.000-05:00

My parents reside in a small neighborhood called, Darby Place. They live in a box-shaped house with a basement, two-stories, and an attic embellished with three dormer styled windows. The backyard is composed of my mother's beautiful plants, and a large pond holding a numerous amount of bright orange coy fish. This weekend the surrounding trees are in the climax of their autumn bloom, with leaves mirroring the orange in the coy fish below. I am here with my family celebrating a Thanksgiving feast composed of all the predictable side dishes. We have been eating those predictable left-overs for days, and today I return back to my place above the kite shop in Savannah.
Every time I come back to my parents, I devote time to find some sort of treasure to bring back. This time I am stuffing my suitcase with a mink fur shawl of my late Grandma Molloy, a birdcage to add to my collection, and an old photograph of my mum's first communion.

When I have children I am going to dress them up everyday as if it were their first communion.
They will probably hate it, but their kids will love it; having old photographs of their parents to blog about and to show all.

Justification for WorldWideWeb Communication

2008-12-01T11:23:00.000-05:00

I never had a xanga.
Nor a livejournal.
I don't have a myspace, nor a Facebook.
Not that any of those are bad.(in fact I fancy me some certain people's livejournal)
I often find myself looking at other people's blogs, and it just makes sense.
Here I am.

and without going unnoticed
Here is my late Grandmother's mink fur shawl,
and here, my cat since 5th grade, Freckles. She still formally goes by that name, but being that the name reflects the mindset of a 11 year-old girl; the family calls her, "kitty". She has had a full life so far: from catching lizards in Southern California, to being a mother of four, to moving to Georgia,and now to being one of those "older cats" and allowing herself to eat and sleep all day without exercise, and finding herself perfectly content with the fact that her belly hovers the ground as she walks. She is a good cat. I would like to think that she misses my presence when I am back in Savannah, but for the sake of charity I left her to keep my parents and my younger brother company back home.