Tuesday, August 31, 2010
|image from my new favorite blog, find it here.|
I am heartbroken today.
My beloved Canon G10 camera has died.
Truthfully I really don't have it in me to discuss the details but one second he was snapping away, hiding my excitement as we together captured hearts of others, and then next thing I know he's paused. Forever.
I will be taking my heartbeat project photos on an ancient point and shoot until I am able to replace my sweet G.
Until then, a moment of silence as he makes his way down that long road to the electronic paradise in the sky.
About a year ago I was severely pregnant and all I wanted to do was sit. Literally. Some pregnant women want to sleep, eat or nest. I wanted to sit. But that's precisely what I didn't do for the 9 months bear was living inside of me. His father felt compelled to drag me to the finish line of marathons even when my feet were the size of Goodyear blimps. Florence in a day? Sure thing! Oh your shoes don't fit? Go barefoot. Sounds splendid!
Well when I found myself in Brooklyn on a beautiful early September Saturday, I was less than thrilled. "Where can I sit?" I'd patiently ask salespeople. All of them yearning to get me the hell out of their store before my water broke all over their goods.
But not at Brook Farm General Store. These people literally measured me to see if I'd fit inside one of their large canvas bags. "We can just put you in here and carry you around!" Um, I'll take it.
I've been dreaming of that store, and all the luxuriously humble pieces that make it up.
When I found out today that they have not only a website with the most exquisite photography where you can buy, but also a blog, I nearly gave birth.
It's a must. Check it out here.
Monday, August 30, 2010
|image by elizabeth weinberg|
That, my friends, is what I love about life.
How one moment SNAP! It's fresh again. The pains and the reality and the cheating and the mistakes and the duties and the endless stuff that keeps you up at night, GONE. And it's you in your head with only good thoughts and gratefulness to the universe for keeping you healthy and alive and bringing you to that very moment. There's no wishing at that moment. For it is what it is and what it is, is grand. It's life. Real life, living in the moment. There's no wishing you were elsewhere or someone new or wearing something else. You. You. You.
And as my world settled, my skin sweaty, my hair a mess, my feet pained from dancing, I realized how vital it is to take those moments away with you. Take them to a quiet place and say thanks for them. See them and who you are now from them and just be. Life is so full of starry moments like that. I hope to see the twinkle more often.
Please help me in wishing Adam and Michelle a happy one year anniversary today!
Hard to believe it's already been a year since that magical weekend in Italy.
Just like the two of them, the wedding was heaven. A story out of a fairy tale, completely fit for a prince and his princess.
It's truly love filled and fabulous to be a part of your lives.
Cheers to one hundred more.xx
I've been meaning to write about Casa Lauria for ages now. It's the California home to my dearest friends A&A and the most killer spot to do a photo shoot or just to go to for a relaxing weekend in Big Sur. It's only 5 minutes from the Post Ranch Inn and Pfeiffer Beach, 22 miles south of Carmel, and is literally the only place I've been where you wake in the mornings to a smell of fresh air so intense you actually wonder if it was created in a bottle. If you've never been to Big Sur, go. It's America at its finest.
|image from marie claire italy|
This is where i am in my mind right now. lounging with my boy, not a care in the world.
Obviously I'm not the only one as I've gotten more emails today about all of you in pain from having to be back to the grind on such a glorious day.
I feel your pain. Just think pretty thoughts.
I truly had the best best weekend. When I woke up at 5am with the bear today, I found myself so sad for what was to come. Not just work today but the end of summer. Don't let it end. Dear lord of the heat and clam bakes above, don't let it end! Endless summer, please.
More photos to come but for now here's a little end of summer picture of me and Mr B at the harbor last night.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Friday, August 27, 2010
Thursday, August 26, 2010
I'm working on an outerwear story and just came across this piece of wool perfection by Burberry. Do you love it as much as I do?
Just today Dylan and I had a whole conversation about what we'd do first if we won that $2,000 a week lotto ticket (which, sadly, I lost today). So Dyl, my answer is: first I'd give my dad a check with a giant "thank you" on it and then I'd go out and buy this thing.
But truthfully, I'd rather win $374 million.
Tulum, mexico is a place I've been going for nearly a decade. like most things beautiful, time has taken parts of it's splendor. It's inevitable, so I've learned. It's not just about the number of gringos walking the beaches or how my favorite hotel has closed down, but more about how the secret of it no longer exists. A safe place to get lost in your own head. A place to walk for miles in peace. A place to strip off your clothes and dive bomb into the ocean with total strangers at random hours of the night. I dream of finding a new place to create new memories. A safe place with hidden treasures where my son and I can talk under bright stars and watch the sun come up. I dream of being there now, tanned, smiling and with no particular thing clogging my mind.
Until then, I will live with the memories of my last trip there. Enjoy my photos.
Just the other night I found my child sleeping in the same position I used to see my mom sleeping in.
On his back, arm tossed over his eyes.
I used to think my mom slept like this because my father woke at the crack of dawn and never considered how bright the lights were in her face. So instead of telling him to shut them off, she just threw her arm over her eyes. Genius. Right?
But then when I saw baby Luca in the same position I realized that perhaps it wasn't light at all that made her sleep like that. Maybe it comes from a long line of ancestors who slept this way and my dear son is just now carrying the trait along.
I realize the insanity of this thought. But I like to think this way. I like the idea that Luca has within him parts of my mother. Parts of her I do not possess. Parts of her so grand, so special, so innate that I could never teach him to be this way. It's just in him. And so I hope. I pray.