So Lovely

Los Angeles

2011-12-09T15:30:00.000-08:00

"Who are these people who've got a problem with LA, maybe they're just mad cos they don't live here".

- Ice Cube

Ann Carrington

2011-11-13T12:53:00.000-08:00

W Hoboken "Manhattan Mettle" By Ann Carrington from tinklevision on Vimeo.

My favorite artist. For more of her art, click here.

2011-11-11T09:05:00.001-08:00

Lest We Forget

Sadly for my grandfather, eldest of three brothers, his war time was to end tragically. He was an expert navigator and bomber fighter, attached to the RAF and took part in most of the major bombing raids in Germany and France. In the Battle Of Brest - the first major daylight bombing raid - he was recommended for a DFC (Distinguished Flying Cross) but, because they were short one medal, circumstances on the day meant he was the one to miss out.

A letter he wrote home in 1941 was telling:

"I have been on quite a number of big bombing raids now and realise that the chances of survival are not as great as they might be. Nearly every trip we lose a percentage of our crews and already a great portion of my class have passed on to that happy hunting ground where we will all assemble at the sound of the great trumpet.

Personally I have no fear of these trips at all, and even much less fear death, particularly when I realise that should that be my fate, I will walk the same lanes and fields as the thousands of other young men who have so gladly and willingly died for this great cause.

Not only that, but we will be in the same realm as the great soldiers of England who have gone before us and blazed the way. I feel proud that I have been allowed to serve as an officer in the Royal Air Force and I want you to feel proud with me rather than sorry for me.

After all my sacrifice is very small. It is M (his wife, my grandmother) and JS (his son, my father) who are making the real sacrifice. Sometimes I feel very mean having left them like I have to fight the great battles of life....."

In 1942 his tour had ended and he wrote to his wife and son (my father) to prepare to shift to Canada as he had a position training air crews there and that is where they would live. Then experienced volunteers were called for a mission over Denmark - my grandfather volunteered for one last mission. Sixty aircraft took off on Sunday May 18th - the plane was hit twice by flak and crashed at 0210 at Galskling, 2km west of Middlefart.

My great grandmother received the "missing believed killed" telegram just hours before my great aunt was to be married. She kept that information to herself until after the wedding. Another great aunt remembers finding the telegram under the mattress as she made the bed for a guest, later that evening. It was to be months before there was finally confirmation of his death.

Of the 60 planes that set off on that final mission, six were lost and only one of the crew lived, was seriously injured and taken prisoner. There is a memorial to my grandfather and the crew of MacRobert's Reply at Middlefart, Denmark - the stone was taken from the crash site. My grandfather's grave is at Odense near a memorial to the fallen.

My father, who is an only child never had the chance to know his father.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Here are a few excerpts from my great uncle's log book - he was an RAF Flight-Lieutenant Beaufighter pilot and night flyer. He was attached to the 29th Squadron, stationed at Brize Norton.

July 23: (his first sortie) enemy aircraft approached from the North East, scrambled after them, pitch dark night. Got to within one mile of them and they scooted for home.

July 25: Daylight scramble in bad weather. Jerry driven off - one crew missing.

August 5: Weather very bad. Dark, raining and bumpy as hell. Intercepted a JU88. It took violent evasive action and got away in the dark. It is believed I damaged him canon fire.

August 13: Tonight Jerry raided Canterbury in strength. Three of us went up to intercept. The flak was terrible. Dunne and Hay were shot down. For Jerry shot down.

September 10: (crashed at Bradwell Bay). Flaps damaged by flak and had to make a blind landing in nil visibility. Lucky to get down.

September 13: A JU88 got on my tail and I just saw it in time to peel off. Tried to dog fight with it but it was too dark so I buggered off before there was one less in the family.

November 13: Over Flushing my starboard engine was hit and started to emit sparks. Got an emergency homeing. Over base, the cloud base was just clear of hills and while on circuit the engine ceased. Maintained height on one engine but hit four trees on approach. Managed to crash land and plane went up in flames; got out by the skin of my teeth. Knocked about and not allowed to do any heavy flying for 3 months.

This marked the end of his first tour.

I will never forget those who have either lost their lives or been gravely wounded in any war.

Paperbacks

2011-10-21T15:30:00.000-07:00

Tracy Kendall wallpaper

Such a wise man~

2011-10-04T16:53:00.000-07:00

Wild Geese

2011-09-11T12:09:00.000-07:00

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting-
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

~ Mary Oliver

Such a beautifully fitting poem, read at a 9/11 Memorial Service I attended this morning.

2011-09-02T08:13:00.000-07:00

REMEMBERING THE CHILDREN OF FIRST MARRIAGES
Oh remember the children of first marriages
For they are silent and awkward in their comings and their goings;
For the seal of the misbegotten is upon them;
For they walk in apology and dis-ease;
For their star is sunk;
For their fathers’ brows are knitted against them;
For they bristle and snarl.
All you light-limbed amblers in the sun,
Remember the grovellers in the dark;
The scene-shifters, the biders, the loners.

Lucy Tunstall is a doctoral student at the University of Exeter.

From The Paris Review.

2011-07-21T08:07:00.001-07:00

"Some people get you and some people don't, and to spend your life trying to make people understand how deep, complex and varied you are - I think that way lies madness".

~ Cate Blanchett

All things Jane Austen

2011-05-18T19:24:00.001-07:00

Having a hard time focusing on books right now. This is such a great idea and I love the cover.

You can buy it here.

Man's Best Friend

2011-05-09T13:53:00.000-07:00

"The one absolutely unselfish friend that a man can have in this selfish world, the one that never deserts him and the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous is his dog".

~ George Graham Vest

For the lovely Tania who just lost one of her best friends.

This Friday - the Royal Wedding

2011-04-27T08:31:00.000-07:00

Alarm set, Coronation chicken to be made (will use this great recipe) and will then be ready to watch a piece of history unfold.

Hot Cross Buns

2011-04-22T15:17:00.001-07:00

Homemade......

Winners and Losers

2011-04-11T11:31:00.000-07:00

from Leaves of Grass

2011-04-07T10:00:00.000-07:00

32
I think I could turn and live with animals, they're so placid and self contain'd, I stand and look at them long and long.

They do not sweat and whine about their condition,
They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins,
They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God,
Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of owning things,
Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago,
Not one is respectable or unhappy over the earth.

—Walt Whitman

Simon Doonan

2011-04-05T10:02:00.000-07:00

Via StyleCaster

Changing....

2011-04-04T11:34:00.000-07:00

I've been contemplating for months the next phase of my blog and here's what I've decided.

I feel there's just too much me, me, me and self-promotion in the world right now and wanted to make this a place to come & find maybe a great piece of music, a thoughtful poem, some delicious photography - a place to inspire, a place to kick off your shoes, lie down on the grass and rest a while.

The comments section has been shut off so that you can feel comfortable to come and go, roam around and not feel awkward if you don't have time to sign the "visitors book".

All are welcome and you can stay as long as you like!

x So Lovely

The Earthquake in New Zealand

2011-02-23T09:23:00.001-08:00

New Zealand has had a time of it lately - the earthquake last September, the horrific mining disaster and now this........

Hello sweet abandoned blog and my wonderful, faithful readers - I've been away and didn't want my first post back to be about money. The money is not for me though - its for my homeland and the people of Christchurch. This is the first time in the history of New Zealand that a State of Emergency has been declared - tragically lives have been lost, hundreds are still trapped and the city itself is rubble.

Many people have asked me what's the best way to get donations to New Zealand and my suggestion is through the Red Cross.

So here's the link to the NZ Red Cross -

I truly appreciate anything that you can donate - I know times are tough but everything little bit helps.

Update: An official donation website has also now be set up here.

Pike River disaster - the Twenty Nine

2010-12-01T19:40:00.000-08:00

Pike River Official Remembrance Service: 2 minutes' silence at 2.00 pm, Thursday 02 December

We Will Live
by Helen Wilson

We must live, get on with our lives.

I am someone who lives here, and I am no one in particular.

I am not a close relative, just relatively close.

I live amongst you, work with you, pass you on the street,

and as luck would have it, I came home again.

I went to work on that Friday as you did. That's all.

My labrador ready for a run when I got home, my lawnmower and fishing rod waiting eagerly for the weekend.

I lived, and should have got on with my life.
But as I write, my neighbourhood is at a standstill, and I am with them,

paralysed by the enormity of despair, guilt and helplessness.

My lawns have bloomed dandelions, my dog, bored, is digging holes in the weeds.

The media says we are a close-knit community. I prefer to think we are tightly bound to be here,

because living here is not a normal, comfortable life but a strong and uncertain existence;

forever at the whim of our surroundings, we go up the back and go down the mine, up the hill and across the bar.

The earth moves, the winds strike, the rain falls, and the hills remind us of their omnipotence.

We nod to each other in the street in a quiet way because we understand we have lived more than most and we really know how to get on with our lives.

And in a flash, life has stopped us in our tracks and can never be the same.

And in the days after Friday and the anguish, as if we had forgotten and needed a remedial lesson,

we are reminded what it is that is most precious about our community.

And in our despair, we are kinder to each other. We spend more time. We knit ourselves tighter and we behave a little better,

and that in itself brings us the comfort we need.

We will mourn some more, and then wearying of that, we will remember this day and what it is to be alive.

And in the memory of those we have lost, we will promise to be kinder to each other,

Because we have learned all over again what is important and what is not.

To do this gives purpose to their lives, and some sanction for their death.

This weekend I will mow my lawns, retrieve my dog from her pit, and the greyest kahawai will not be safe.

And we will all live for them a little bit better and get on with our lives.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

An absolute disaster happened in a country far from here - it happened in my homeland and those who perished were my countrymen. I watched the memorial service on CNN tonight with tears streaming and stood to sing the National Anthem with a very shaky voice. The youngest miner was just 17.

As the Prime Minister read out the names of the 29 who perished, a lone bird started to sing as if on cue.

Happy Thanksgiving

2010-11-25T08:18:00.000-08:00

For rest and shelter of the night,
For health and food, for love and friends,
For everything Thy goodness sends.

~Ralph Waldo Emerson

The Pit

2010-11-07T11:28:00.000-08:00

Its always a sickening feeling when you have to come to the realization that you have or are being used. Its the pit in the bottom of your stomach feeling, you don't really want to admit to yourself that you were that stupid. From the start, there are ALWAYS signs - big, huge, flashing ones - saying DANGER AHEAD and yet we persevere, well I do - thinking that it will be different - I won't fall into the trap, I'll scoot around the outside, fully aware of the situation.

But then something happens, all those signs get washed away or disappear behind the bloom of someone new with shared views maybe. A friendship begins SO when does it change from helping a friend to being used or starting a friendship with someone that you later find out was just a little lonely at the time and you were just a filler until their preferred social network started to take shape? Does the length of the friendship/relationship count? Is it after a certain numbers of days it changes from new friends to friends that you help out or is it the amount of time you spend together, length of phone calls/emails etc? Is there some sort of scientific equation or graph!

But then the flip side is if they are your friend, are they using you or are you helping out a friend, wanting them to succeed, happy to help them with contacts or meeting people? When is it using?

Catching my breath

2010-10-16T20:20:00.001-07:00

I never feel I have a moment to catch my breath - I've truly felt guilty at times writing my blog or reading a book as that attention should be directed towards the ever growing virtual stack (via email) of scripts that I should be reading for clients and my own production company.

I've also realized that not spending as much time on Twitter or on my blog has made me direct more attention back to my company and therefore wonderful things are happening. I've always wanted to have my own company - I'm not good taking orders from others, I will do if I must! Having spent most of my life working in the corporate world I took a risk a few years ago, leaving a high profile job, the security of a monthly pay check and a very hefty expense account to initially start up my new company from the dining room table in my house (I had to leave sooner than expected). I remember being so afraid - I worked 7 days a week without a break, not wanting to divert my attention for a moment as the bills were starting to pile up and it seemed like money was drifting out the windows. That's a hard habit to break - working 24/7.

I'm trying to teach myself that the sky is not going to fall if I read a design magazine, wander through blogs I like or perhaps even read a book! And also to catch my breath - and remember its not all or nothing.

Happiness

2010-10-04T12:00:00.000-07:00

via this brilliant website.

Pink

2010-10-01T09:42:00.000-07:00

My lovely friend Lisa has written a beautiful post on her blog A Bloomsbury Life about today being the start of Breast Cancer Awareness month. I left a comment there but wanted to re-iterate it here too.

" I shall think pink today, wear pink today and be glad for all who found the dreaded C with early detection. And my thoughts will go to those who weren't able to defeat this horrific disease".

2010-09-11T10:20:00.000-07:00

FOR OUR WORLD

We need to stop.
Just stop.
Stop for a moment.
Before anybody
Says or does anything
That may hurt anyone else.
We need to be silent.
Just silent.
Silent for a moment.
Before we forever lose
The blessing of songs
That grow in our hearts.
We need to notice.
Just notice.
Notice for a moment.
Before the future slips away
Into ashes and dust of humility.
Stop, be silent, and notice.
In so many ways, we are the same.
Our differences are unique treasures.
We have, we are, a mosaic of gifts
To nurture, to offer, to accept.
We need to be.
Just be.
Be for a moment.
Kind and gentle, innocent and trusting,
Like children and lambs,
Never judging or vengeful
Like the judging and vengeful.
And now, let us pray,
Differently, yet together,
Before there is no earth, no life,
No chance for peace.

Mattie Stepanek, "Hope Through Heartsongs"
September 11, 2001

Abandoned blog

2010-08-07T13:52:00.001-07:00

Poor abandoned blog - I'll be back when the Emmys saga is over (or maybe before). There may also be renovations - stay tuned (that's if I have any followers left).....

Lost L.A. Archives

2010-06-09T11:02:00.000-07:00

The photo above is Hollenbeck Home for the Aged in Boyle Heights on Sept. 6, 1896: A Home for 'fortunate unfortunates'.

I've been reading this once-a-month column for some time now. Its truly fascinating and reiterates that Los Angeles does have history.

Click here for the link to: Lost L.A Archives

rainy Los Angeles

2010-05-17T17:51:00.000-07:00

Happy Mothers Day

2010-05-09T09:00:00.000-07:00

My amazing mother in Zanzibar -

That secret club

2010-04-15T06:27:00.000-07:00

In front of me pinned to my cork board on a scrappy piece of paper is a quote..

"Don't waste your time on the obvious things. Write about what disturbs you, particularly if it bothers no one else".

Well what disturbs me is this firm grasp on the phrase....."well I'm a writer" as though it's a secret club that requires a membership card or perhaps a secret handshake and a nod of the head.

I believe everyone has talent. Some have had the time to hone it while others have disjointed ideas, written in journals or on yellow, lined legal pads stuffed into drawers or under the bed.

My lovely friend Tania of Backwards In High Heels fame wrote a lovely series about writing last year. She was teaching a 5 day writing course at the time as part of the Aboyne Arts Festival and was extremely kind to transcribe it onto her blog. This is Day One of the written version. There are five days in all and by the time you finish reading, if you have a yearning to write, you will be brimming with ideas and new found excitement.

This is the opening paragraph of her writing series....

"The Fear takes many forms. The most profound is the secret, crippling conviction that you are not allowed to be a writer unless you have certain qualifications. You must be born in the right place, to the right parents, with the right education. You must also have a specific God-given talent, a feeling for words, the equivalent of a musical ear. The other form of the Fear is an internalised memory, of teachers mostly, telling you that no, no, it is not done that way, and if you do not do it in the correctly prescribed way you will never amount to anything. There are rules, there are criteria, there are things that people expect. All of this is nonsense. I cannot stress this enough. I will say it again: all of this is nonsense. The point about writing is that if you are willing to work hard enough, to listen closely to your own voice, to push past the terror, you will be able to do it. I’m not saying it will be easy. All good writers know that writing is hard. Bad writing is a simple matter, you just have to put your fingers on the keyboard and go. Serious writing, and writing is serious, is difficult. But if you put in the time, it is not beyond your reach".

What struck me was the generous way in which she wants to lead anyone who's scared, to feel comfortable in revealing themselves as a writer and to come along for the ride. She demystifies the angst and terror of rejection, the "oh you're not a writer". I read and digested the entire series as I am secretly, that person. I don't have the time to hone my skills as the other side of my brain has a death grip on my focus running my company, reading other people's scripts, books, plays, TV pilots or 10 page "can-you-help-me" letters.

I'm a writer because I write just as trillions of others do - am I a good writer - I don't think so but I have the passion and the desire to learn how to be. I'm constantly surrounded by people who aren't shy to profess "well I'm a writer" - they are the ones in that "secret writers club" where they feel you do need to be born in the right place, on the right day when the light is just right. What defines a writer?

Being of service

2010-04-05T09:34:00.000-07:00

One thing I've learned over the years is - its better to give than to receive. I have a very fortunate life filled with great family and friends and am truly thankful for that. I am involved in the Big Sunday weekend (May 1st and 2nd) - through an organization called Big Sunday which gives back to the community in which we live. Here's the link to the actual volunteer form - as you can see some of the programs are for a couple of hours - from painting schools, to organizing lunch at an Aids hospice - there is something for everyone. BIG SUNDAY.

"Strange is our situation here upon earth. Each of us comes for a short visit, not knowing why, yet sometimes seemingly for a divine purpose. From the standpoint of daily life, however, there is one thing we do know: That we are here for the sake of others…for the countless unknown souls with whose fate we are connected by a bond of sympathy. Many times a day, I realize how much my outer and inner life is built upon the labors of people, both living and dead, and how earnestly I must exert myself in order to give in return as much as I have received." Albert Einstein

I'll Be Back

2010-03-17T14:39:00.000-07:00

To all my lovely readers, followers etc and in response to the overwhelming amount of emails I've received, I've popped in to explain where I've been and that I haven't abandoned y'all and stopped blogging.

The beginning of every year and through to the end of the "Awards" season is the busiest time in my profession. Then there's the high sigh of relief that last for about a week after that.

Until I surface (very soon) - here's a little space to breathe and thank you for all your continued support.

Coromandel 2009

Being soba

2010-02-20T11:17:00.000-08:00

I have a passion for soba noodles right now. My dearest friend E arrived at my house last night for a drink - much needed by him as he's being edited a TV reality show. Drinks turned into dinner and as it was a rainy night we decided to stay warm and dry. I scoured the kitchen and put together what became a delightful dish - Soda Noodles with Chicken and Spinach.

Start by cooking the soda noodles. Make sure to use an enormous pot (I used my pasta pot) as they will try to boil over twice (which is the point). Instructions on the package are very straight forward.

While the noodles are cooking, chop 1 chicken breast into large cubes. In a large saute pan (frying pan) heat a small amount of olive oil and brown the chicken. As its nearing the end of cooking - add 1 large bag of pre-washed spinach - which is about 3 large grab-fuls of spinach and let it wilt into the chicken.

When the soba noodles have finished cooking, rinse in cold water. Add to the chicken and spinach - give it all minute as the soba noodles need to heat up again.

Salt and pepper to taste throughout although I tend to wait till the end to pepper as I don't want the heat from the cooked pepper overpowering the soba noodles.

I usually use tofu in this dish. Cube a block of firm or extra firm tofu and brown the same way as with the chicken.

I tend to cook the entire packet of soba noodles and then add them to soups, salads and stews. This recipe is so easy and can be put together with a glass of wine in hand - I chose a crisp Pinot Grigio from Italy.

Do hope you try it.

Zimbabwe 2010

2010-02-18T15:50:00.001-08:00

Tomorrow's Toussaints by Kalamu ya Salaam

2010-01-23T09:56:00.000-08:00

this is Haiti, a state
slaves snatched from surprised masters,
its high lands, home of this
world’s sole successful
slave revolt. Haiti, where
freedom has flowered and flown
fascinating like long necked
flamingoes gracefully feeding
on snails in small pinkish
sunset colored sequestered ponds.

despite the meanness
and meagerness of life
eked out of eroding soil
and from exploited urban toil, there
is still so much beauty here in this
land where the sea sings roaring a shore
and fecund fertile hills lull and roll
quasi human in form

there is beauty here
in the unyielding way
our people,
colored charcoal, and
banana beige, and
shifting subtle shades
of ripe mango, or strongly
brown-black, sweet
as the such from
sun scorched staffs
of sugar cane,
have decided
we shall survive
we will live on

a peasant pauses
clear black eyes
searching far out over the horizon
the hoe motionless, suspended
in the midst
of all this shit and suffering
forced to bend low
still we stop and stand
and dream and believe

we shall be released
we shall be released
for what slaves
have done
slaves can do

and that begets
the beauty
slaves can do

(from the collection Iron Flowers)

This is the poignant poem Morgan Freeman read last night on the Hope For Haiti Now telethon.

Haiti:I Wonder As I Wander

2010-01-17T12:03:00.000-08:00

"Haiti, land of blue sea and green hills, white fishing boats on the sea, and the hidden huts of peasants in the tall mountains. People strong, midnight black. Proud women whose arms bear burdens, whose backs are very straight. Children naked as nature. Nights full of stars, throbbing with Congo drums. At the capital lovely ladies ambergold, mulatto politicians, warehouses full of champagne, banks full of money. A surge of black peasants who live on the land, and the foam of the cultured elite in Port-au-Prince who live on the peasants.

Port-au-Prince, city of squalid huts, unattractive sheds and shops near the water front, but charming villas on the slopes that rise behind the port. A presidential palace gleaming white among palm trees with the green hills for a backdrop. A park where bands play at night. An enormous open-air market.

"Ba moi cinq cob," children beg of tourists in the street. Cinq cob means a nickel. They speak a patois French. The upper classes, educated abroad, speak the language of Paris. But I met none of the upper-class Haitians," - Langston Hughes, from Autobiography: I Wonder as I Wander, 1956.

From Andrew Sullivan: The Atlantic

Coming clean

2010-01-11T11:16:00.000-08:00

What gets you out of a funk? Do you try to ignore it and get through the day with a perma-grin on your face, repeating "I'm fine" to those who may ask you how you're doing or do you submit to it, stay in bed watching television and eating what you want; the unhealthy the better.

I have a hard time as one part of me wants to slap myself across the head and say "snap outta it, you have nothing to complain about - you have so much to be thankful of. Don't be a self centered ninny - get out there and soldier on". The problem with that is I feel like a phony, untruthful, playing a role that doesn't sit well.

I'm incredibly unsettled; one of the side effects of being a legal alien. Years ago I would have tried to avoid these feelings, gone back on some kind of antidepressants to calm the dull funk and uneasiness, but not this time.

One of my dilemmas is trying to find the importance in what I do and where I live. I want to be fulfilled, feel like I have made a difference somewhere. Its easy for me to post poems and photos of places that give me joy but honestly at times, I don't truly feel that way. My younger sister works for the Human Rights Commission; my older sister is now working in Zimbabwe as an aid worker, after having spent 1 year in the Sudan. There is importance in what they do.

I'm contemplating taking a hiatus from my blog as I don't want it to become a rant about how unsatisfied I am and bore you all. I will keep you all posted.

Coming into land

2010-01-06T10:38:00.000-08:00

I am feeling slightly normal again after sleeping for more than 14 hours - jetlag can sometimes be the worst and hits me rather hard. My father gave me the best piece of advice years ago - don't make any decisions in the first 24 hours after flying - and he's right.

Firstly I'm always incredibly weepy and start to compare ridiculously. Yesterday was no exception - I landed at 7:00am and by 8:00am in my mind my entire life here was packed up, animals in quarantine and I was on my way. Its always so easy to blame the place rather than look at ourselves and I'm completely to blame for my mundane life here, I've become lazy and unadventurous. I have made a small list of the things that I would like to accomplish this year; its a reasonable list. Top priority: to dive into doing things by myself rather than waiting to find others to join me.

Here's to an adventurous, busy 2010!

Merry Christmas

2009-12-21T14:45:00.000-08:00

(Christmas 2008)

I hope your holiday season is filled with love, laughter and joy. Thank you so much for visiting my sometimes neglected blog. I'm so grateful to each and every one of you.
I will post later from another Hemisphere.
xx

Tomato, pumpkin & spinach curry

2009-12-09T17:17:00.001-08:00

I made this last night, it took less than 30 minutes and is perfect for winter dinner. I was in such a rush - I forgot to take photos of the end result. But I can assure you it was a very festive vision. It serves 6 perfectly.

1 large onion, halved and sliced
1 Tbsp vegetable oil
2 Tbsp Madras curry paste
1 small butternut pumpkin, a little over 1 lb (500g), cut into chunks
5 tomatoes, quartered - I prefer hothouse
About 1/2 cup of spinach roughly chopped or torn - I love spinach so tend to add more
Steamed basmati rice, to serve

Cook onion in the oil for 5 minutes until softened. Add the curry paste and cook for about 3 minutes. Add the pumpkin, tomatoes and 1 cup (200ml) of water and stir well. Cover and simmer for 15 minutes until the pumpkin is just cooked and the tomatoes have broken down. Stir through the spinach, salt and pepper to taste. Leave for a couple of minutes to wilt. Serve with basmati rice.

I served this with quinoa last night which was delicious. I dry roast the quinoa in a heavy bottomed pan before adding the water as it adds a slightly nutty flavour. This is an entirely vegetarian dish -

Musical Interlude

2009-11-30T16:37:00.000-08:00

This just makes me kick up my heels!

A Day of Thanks

2009-11-25T11:24:00.000-08:00

I wasn't raised celebrating Thanksgiving but live in a country where it is. I've been very fortunate to be invited every year to different people's houses for the day of celebration. I always accept the very 1st invitation I get and look forward to meeting new, interesting people and being involved in how they celebrate. For me, Thanksgiving isn't a time that I think about food but more what I'm thankful for, to think of the less fortunate who may not be spending the day with their loved ones, might be homeless, unwell or just don't have anywhere to go.

Its important to me that every year I give back in some way. This year I donated what I would have spent to cook for 50 people at my house. Its just my small way of being very thankful for what I have.

Happy Thanksgiving.....

Lest We Forget

2009-11-11T15:01:00.000-08:00

The Brilliance of Anime

2009-11-09T12:31:00.000-08:00

From hair blowing in the wind to the sun hitting the lens of the camera and the rain falling. For the full effect click at the bottom of the frame to make it bigger and turn up the volume.

The added bonus is that its set to "Ce Matin Le" by AIR (one of my favourite bands). Their music is often referred to as electronica, influenced by the synthesizer sounds of the 1970's such as Jean Michel Jarre, Vangelis and Francis Lai.

Found via DailyMotion.

The Phenomenon Of The "Fan" (or groupie)

2009-11-01T09:00:00.000-08:00

Over my career I've pretty much spend time with almost every well known actor, celebrity and/or pop star. Most are down-to-earth and live much the same lives as we do, to a certain extent, I'm referring more to the fact that they tune into Project Runway or want to discuss who's going to win American Idol. There are the exceptions, some are complete nutters but obviously for confidentiality reasons I shan't divulge those tasty tidbits.

But I'm more fascinated in the fans really. The ones that will spend days camped outside the theatres, sound stages, venues where their "idol" is to appear. Wearing handmade T-shirts, re-living with other fans the "I nearly met him/her once" stories. They wait patiently for hours hoping to get a glimpse or possibly their hand touched as the celeb is whisked past. On occasion some are invited backstage.

And this is how it goes: they walk in, usually in pairs - jittery, whispering, clutching each others arms, almost in hysteria. As they approach their object of desire, all goes very quiet - they just stop, stand and stare, feet shuffling not really knowing what to do. They share glances with their friend, mouth O.M.G a few times and then start to feel fairly self conscious.

Most well-known people are wonderful with their fans and will chat quite happily knowing that these meetings are sometimes awkward. Whats strangest to me though is - some fans are more interested in having cellphone photos taken with their "idol", then swiftly twittering or texting them out to their friends and others. They're not really that fussed about having any form of conversation with the one person they have lusted after, know the lyrics to very song or watched every film they've been in.

In a way its almost as though they have already played this meeting out in their mind and don't want to corrupt the fantasy.

The secret life of Ingmar Bergman

2009-10-27T16:17:00.000-07:00

Interesting article about Ingmar Bergman by Diane Solway here.

via W Magazine Editors blog

Social Mountaineers

2009-10-25T09:50:00.001-07:00

I encounter these sorts on a daily basis and it makes me incredibly sad and disheartened. Why must people try and be something they're not conjure up a life that's not theirs. I can understand trying to better yourself but why must average, good people who work hard crave to be someone else and live their lives hoping they have succeeded. A fantasy life of sorts.

A fantasy world of any kind can be a good thing at times - everyone has a dream right? But I'm staggered by how many people misrepresent themselves, build themselves up to be something they're not perhaps to get ahead, be more popular, to climb the social mountain- who knows. Were they raised to feel less than and so form a new version of themselves, mirroring themselves on others and what they think others may like? There's such a misrepresentation there - from the surface everything seems open and honest but then the facade starts to fall and its like talking to the shell of someone else, the accomplishments they have bragged about become an embellishment of what they think they need, to be accepted. The image and personality of this person is not really them, its a replica of who they think they need to be.

That's what I find disheartening.

Shwood - Very snazzy!

2009-10-23T10:20:00.000-07:00

Completely groovy and very Mad Men-esque. Each pair is hand-made in Portland from locally sourced exotic hardwoods and the lens are optical quality Carl Zeiss or polarized lens that offer 100% UVA/UVB protection.

I'm having a hard time deciding which frames. They can be ordered from here: Shwood.

Genius Website

2009-10-19T13:08:00.000-07:00

Textile Arts: So much of the time we're bombarded with over-priced gift ideas - I'm all for the fantasy but its not always realistic. I love this website - its cheery and inexpensive. There's a large selection of bags, pillows, tea towels, table cloths and napkins made from Marimekko and Ljungbergs fabrics. These fabrics can also be purchased for upholstery.

Biloba Green

55% linen, 45% cotton pillow.

100% organic cotton canvas, grown, woven and printed in the US with non- toxic pigments.

There's also a huge range of oilcloths which are phthalate free pvc.

A Longish One But Bear With Me.....

2009-10-08T12:49:00.000-07:00

I wanted to find the origin of the saying..."This too shall pass" which is commonly engraved on silver rings and comes from Jewish wisdom folktale.

One day Solomon decided to humble Benaiah Ben Yehoyada, his most trusted minister. He said to him, "Benaiah, there is a certain ring that I want you to bring to me. I wish to wear it for Sukkot which gives you six months to find it." "If it exists anywhere on earth, your majesty," replied Benaiah, "I will find it and bring it to you, but what makes the ring so special?" "It has magic powers," answered the king. "If a happy man looks at it, he becomes sad, and if a sad man looks at it, he becomes happy." Solomon knew that no such ring existed in the world, but he wished to give his minister a little taste of humility. Spring passed and then summer, and still Benaiah had no idea where he could find the ring. On the night before Sukkot, he decided to take a walk in one of the poorest quarters of Jerusalem. He passed by a merchant who had begun to set out the day's wares on a shabby carpet. "Have you by any chance heard of a magic ring that makes the happy wearer forget his joy and the broken-hearted wearer forget his sorrows?" asked Benaiah. He watched the grandfather take a plain gold ring from his carpet and engrave something on it. When Benaiah read the words on the ring, his face broke out in a wide smile. That night the entire city welcomed in the holiday of Sukkot with great festivity. "Well, my friend," said Solomon, "have you found what I sent you after?" All the ministers laughed and Solomon himself smiled. To everyone's surprise, Benaiah held up a small gold ring and declared, "Here it is, your majesty!" As soon as Solomon read the inscription, the smile vanished from his face. The jeweler had written three Hebrew letters on the gold band: gimel, zayin, yud, which began the words "Gam zeh ya'avor" -- "This too shall pass." At that moment Solomon realized that all his wisdom and fabulous wealth and tremendous power were but fleeting things, for one day he would be nothing but dust.
Heda Jason recorded this version told by David Franko from Turkey: via Wikipedia

Vancouver - July 2009

2009-10-07T20:43:00.001-07:00

I feel so terribly awful that I have abandoned my sweet little blog-that-could. While I get my derriere into gear and find some new inspiration, I will shall leave you with lovely summer photos from Vancouver.

9/11

2009-09-11T10:59:00.001-07:00

I remember so clearly where I was when this tragedy happened. A friend and I were watching morning television at my house, sitting on the sofa, drinking coffee and chatting away.

Suddenly devastating images appeared on the screen and we sat there in shock and watched. We spent all day sitting there together, mouths gaping, not really speaking to each other. A one stage I looked over at her and realised that she too had wrapped herself up in a blanket, like a baby, her face wet with tears.

The sense of loss, confusion and sadness could be felt everywhere. Mid morning there were threats that the towers in Century City in Los Angeles might possibly be the next targets. I could see those Towers from my house and could only imagine the sheer terror that was taking place over there as people tried to free themselves from those buildings.

I will never forget this tragedy, my thoughts and prayers are always with those who lost their lives or someone they knew. And enormous gratitude to the men and women who risked their lives to save others.

Messenger by Mary Oliver

2009-09-10T10:20:00.000-07:00

My work is loving the world.
Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird
equal seekers of sweetness.
Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.
Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.

Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?
Am I no longer young, and still not half-perfect? Let me
keep my mind on what matters,
which is my work,

which is mostly standing still and learning to be
astonished.
The phoebe, the delphinium.
The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.
Which is mostly rejoicing, since all the ingredients are here,

which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart
and these body-clothes,
a mouth with which to give shouts of joy

to the moth and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam,
telling them all, over and over, how it is
that we live forever.

~ Mary Oliver

The Modern Day Party Line

2009-08-23T11:39:00.001-07:00

Just finished reading a brilliant post by one of my favourite blog/Twitter friends, Tania Kindersley. It got me thinking about Twitter and its wondrous ways.

I've spent almost 15 years in the entertainment industry and been lucky enough to have had several high profile and sought after jobs. But with that comes the hangers on and also the confidentiality aspects to what I do and see. I'm on Twitter and write this blog anonymously because my name can be googled and from there comes piles of mail and "please can you help me's, and I've written a brilliant script".

Twitter has been a joy for me. I've found and met friends that in ordinary life I may not have known about or had the chance to find. I have on-going emails exchanges with many and have had dinners, lunches and overnight stays with others. Brilliant, interesting, hysterically self-deprecating people who are not afraid to voice their opinions and defend them. Over the years working in this particular business I've built a slight wall and am a little more weary of new people's intent. The world in which I work and live is a glamorous and fun one but can also be superficial and phony and at times lonely and a little like living on Mars. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do but with every job there are amazing aspects and not so great ones. There's the opportunity of meeting and socializing with most of the "extremely recognizable people" on a daily basis. But I can also count the minutes, on one hand as to how much interest they have in my personal life or views; a vast majority are very self-consumed.

Twitter has opened up a new world for me - one in which I am "followed" and spoken to for my witty banter (well sometimes)and not because of what I can do for them or who I know. In the past, I've been slipped resumes, head shots, scripts and specs etc. in the most bizarre places and situations after thinking that my scintillating personality was what was intriguing them. Packages have been left at my house full to the brim with every details of a trying-to-be-discovered person's life. Very quickly I realize that its from a party goer who I might have met briefly the night before, who has taken note of my name and found my address. Oh joy.

I compare Twitter to a party line - anonymous people throughout the world coming together through shared views, interests, humour and in my case a LOVE of Jilly Cooper. It really bothers me that the stereotypical phase naysayers continually use is "why would I be interested in what someone had for breakfast". How closed minded! My confession - I don't follow or for that matter am interested in people who send out tweets like "still in bed, am bored". When growing up was never allowed to get away with saying I was bored (more about that in a later post).

I don't and can't send tweets out about what I'm doing on a daily basis as much as much as I would like to and know would get a laugh. What I enjoy is to sit back and watch my Twitter friends discuss a certain actor, movies or television shows and get their instant views, without them knowing that I have somehow had a hand in the project. Or my knowledge of what a huge nightmare the actor is or was, on that particular project. Biting my lip as I would really love to tell them that he is not a sexy beast at all but a huge drip.

So for the naysayers out there I say if you don't understand Twitter, you are not being forced to participate - no one is begging you to join. Find something to your own liking and please leave us be.

Sleepless Nights

2009-07-24T11:23:00.000-07:00

I've been a little absent from my blog for a while but with good reason. I'm exhausted from lack of sleep and struggling to get a grip on the new way in which I now need to eat. Its literally come down to rice cakes, broiled chicken and lots of water, or in other words anything that's dull and bland. Some may think that that would be a great, healthy diet but I'm a lover of French bread, red wine, exceptionally smelly cheeses, spicy foods, tomatoey dishes and none of those are listed on the "what GERD/Celiac sufferers can eat".

Lengthy medical tests have been done and to this day no-one is quite sure whether its GERD but that's what the doctors think it might be. GERD stands for gastro esophageal reflux disease, its mighty painful and I had no idea I had it. Really just thought it was sever heartburn brought on by stress, but this is much worse and there is no way sleep is an option when occurs. Right now every 3 or 4 days I eat something that then flares up the situation when I lie down to sleep. Antacids won't help at that point as the searing pain has already started. The options are: either sit up and sleep (which is not something I have mastered) or sit bolt upright on the sofa - reading or watching television, hoping that the pain will subside, usually around 4:45am.

I will get the hang of it all and am not going to become one of those irritating people who, when at dinner, needs to enlighten fellow diners as to what I can and can't eat. I will do this quietly and with conviction as supposedly with an adjusted (exceptionally boring) diet this will go away in 6 months to 1 year. I will be up till the wee hours every few days until I realize that even 1 stalk of green onion sauteed into a stew is enough to give me hours of pain.

A side note: alcohol is to be avoided but that I can not do. I will brave the agony.

No Good Deed.....

2009-06-17T09:35:00.000-07:00

Why do I not learn? Sadly its so true "no good deed, goes unpunished". Its times like this that its just easier and far more lovely to look at beautiful images.

........Getting All Worked Up At More Than 20 Miles An Hour

2009-06-09T13:25:00.000-07:00

One of my many favourite daily reads is Garrison Keillor's The Writers Almanac. Found this snippet this morning and it made me laugh hysterically. How far we have come!

It was on this day in 1909 that the first woman to drive across the United States, Alice Huyler Ramsey, left New York City for San Francisco. She was 22 years old, a housewife from Hackensack, New Jersey. Her trip got a lot of media attention. In 1909, not many women drove cars, and some doctors thought that it was dangerous for women to even ride in cars because they would get too worked up at more than 20 miles an hour. Alice Huyler Ramsey drove 3,800 miles across the country in a Maxwell 30 with three other women, but she was the only one who knew how to drive. They drove for 41 days and used 11 spare tires. She wrote a book about the trip called Veil, Duster, and Tire Iron(1961). In 2000, she was the first woman inducted into the Automotive Hall of Fame.

To reply or not to reply -

2009-05-15T10:47:00.001-07:00

Sorry but I am dragging my soap box out again. It hasn't come out in a while and it needs an airing.

I spent about 9 months reading blogs, mostly in the design world before venturing out in the blogsphere with my own, almost a year ago. I had mainly read design blogs as they were vastly different from what I do on a daily basis so therefore an escape but also something that I've always loved. When younger I dreamed of going to the Inchbald School of Interior Design in London until I found out how much the tuition was, literally an arm and a two legs. There was also an intimidation to write a blog solely based on writing as I am not a trained writer and as you can see from "my lengthy hiatus" I don't have that writing muscle honed.

So there was one blog in particular that had everything I loved re. design - mid Century (or Middle Century as one of my sister's friends refers to it as), op art, vintage, flea market finds etc. Without knowing it, she had inspired to me to start a blog. Of course I'm the dweeby perfectionist who bought several books on how to write a blog (I read the first chapter of one and then was over that). So I plucked up the courage to send her an email basically thank her for being a design blog pioneer and an inspiration to me. I didn't feel it was over-stalkerish, just honest. It didn't say "please read my blog and post my link on yours"....

To this day I have heard nothing, nada, zip...not even a quick "thanks so much"-that was last August so am not holding my breath. I must be honest, in the last 6 months or so I have veered away from my some of my daily-read design blogs as have found a few to be a little ostentatious. One "old" one did catch my eye recently, as she had just traveled to where I grew up. Lovely photos were posted on her blog and she'd written about her trip there. It brought back memories and I was propelled to email her (who knows why as I should have learnt by now)- just a quick email of gratitude, letting her know that her photos were lovely, nothing overly gushy or freakish.

That was about 3 weeks ago, again nothing, NOT A PEEP and she's one of those bloggers who continually posts gushy thanks to her readers and how grateful she is that they stop by. Well I won't be stopping by again and please bear in mind these are not huge design blogs with an enormous amount of followers. I'm sure to some this all sounds a bit pedantic and brattish, and in the grand scheme of things I won't be losing sleep but I do find it a little rude. Am I alone in thinking that these bloggers are a little clueless?

On Hiatus

2009-04-28T13:41:00.000-07:00

Well.....not really. I have the worst writers/creative block. Its the result of being pulled in 10 different directions, and having very little left. Trying to find my creative mojo and will be right back with y'all.

In the meantime I shall leave you with one of the most beautiful places that I love to go and wander. Greystone Mansion. Pure bliss in the middle of the concrete jungle.

Not Everyone Is A Weirdo

2009-04-07T08:00:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I am still amazed that there are normal, down-to-earth people in the world.

Every Christmas I travel halfway across the world to see my family. I dread the flight as am not good at sitting still for long periods of time, without becoming exceptionally bored - a lifelong affliction (ask my poor mother - I am the annoying "I'm booorrrreedddd" child). This year was different.

As I was organizing my "area" for the next 12 hours, a bright and shining face said "hello". I thought oh no, not again. I had fallen for that before, lulled into a false sense of security by a welcoming face. The last time I'd been polite, it had started a bout of verbal diarrhea that included being "hit on" profusely for the next 5 hours before having a business card thrust into my face and a "let's get together". We had to bump into each other again as we waited for our bags. Had even detoured into the loo to bide my time, so that we didn't have to reunite. Unfortunately that was not the case here.

So I said "hi" rather briskly back to my fellow passenger before busying myself, hoping that he would get the message. He didn't and asked sweetly if I wanted him to put my duvet in the overhead compartment. Then I felt bad and said to the devil on my shoulder ....."have a little Christmas spirit, don't be so rude". And honestly I'm glad I wasn't. We chatted for hours, found out we are in the same biz, drank lots (a wine and cocktail tasting that lasts for 12 hours), laughed and probably annoyed all the passengers around us. We vowed to have dinner when he was next in Los Angeles.

I am a little cautious now I have to admit. I try not to be judgmental or distance but I have, as some would say "an open face". As was always the case in London, on the "last tube" surrounded by the merry older Irish gentlemen (I'm being politically correct), talking incessantly and incoherently to me while at the same time looking for somewhere warm to end their evening of libation.

So my fellow passenger and I had dinner last week. Left off where we had started and laughed continually. We went to the only restaurant in Los Angeles that doesn't take reservations, is packed every night, incredibly noisy and the wait is usually about 2 hours. We got a table as a) there is a RECESSION and b) no-one else would sit outside, although it was warm enough for summery dress and the heat lamps were a-blazing. Traveller friend and I are becoming fast friends.

So, in closing...not EVERYONE is a weirdo but there sure are a lot of them out there.

Springtime (sigh)

2009-03-31T10:49:00.000-07:00

It's truly a stunning spring day here, with birds singing happily. Its at times like this, there does feel like hope is in the air.

In Early Spring

Road catkins, russet and tan let the

wind sweep over them as dusk

seeps in along the lake,

and I pass road puddles

swelling to ponds, mirroring

the sky's own silveriness.

At the railroad tracks seven geese

veer off and set down in a field

so that only their necks

speak for them, telling us all

to go on while they rest

by the barn. Today a man

asked me if I were depressed,

and I looked up and smiled.

No more than these geese or catkins

as light falls around them, no

more than those pine boughs

lifting in the wind - just so,

life goes on.

By Larry Smith

from Writers Almanac.

Hot Cross Buns

2009-03-30T07:00:00.000-07:00

This is my attempt at making Hot Cross Buns. I've been searching for Hot Cross Buns for Easter but they're just not available in the US the way I like them. I contacted a few different shops here, that specialize in foods other than American; no-one stocks them. I mentioned to one shop owner that I was going to have a go and bake my own. He said, "if they turned out well, I will order from you". Hmmmmm....I think not.

Its all a bit of a fiddle really and takes about 2 hours to make. They have to "rest" for an hour and 1/2 before being baked. Mine don't have that mushy almost fluffy consistency that I grew up with. The actual "cross" turned out well as I made it the authentic way, with flour and water, not icing (counterfeits).

I think I'll leave it to the mass produced experts who make millions of them at a time. These won't go to waste though - I will serve these to my unsuspecting friends, toasted with pounds of butter. And a creme egg chaser.

Under A Shell

2009-03-27T09:34:00.000-07:00

Apologies to all: I've been a little bit of a turtle this week, recovering from the insanity of living the night-life at SXSW. I'm a morning person, but alas the music industry is not. How will I survive Coachella (but if that's the least of my worries really...........)

I will be back next week minus the shell. Have yourself a stunning weekend.

Back in LaLa Land

2009-03-23T09:16:00.000-07:00

I'm absolutely exhausted. I'm going for a long walk up in the Canyons to come down off the ride. It will be beautiful today as the wind and rain will have given the city a spring clean. Back later - toodle-loo........

SXSW In A Shoebox

2009-03-14T16:36:00.000-07:00

I'm off to SXSW in Austin, Texas for the week. Was going to go on a tour bus but realized that I would need a little more space than a shoe box to bring what's needed to prepare myself for a week of insanity.

I am really looking forward to the Festival though. Its always lots of fun and the line-up this year is truly amazing. I have been fortunate to hitch a ride on a private plane so the luggage situation shouldn' t be a problem.

I feel I will certainly need a vacation afterwards or even just a quiet spot in a corner!

Escapism in a Louis Vuitton trunk

2009-03-06T08:33:00.000-08:00

In these dismal times, one of my little obsessions is to escape to all the amazing fashion blogs. I am not talking about the mainstream fashion blogs like Style.com, or The Cut. The bloggers I am referring to vary from high school girls in California, Texas and Oregon to corporate types in Paris looking for an outlet. What I love is the creativity with inexpensive clothing from thrift stores, Urban Outfitters, H&M.....

I thought I wanted a career in the fashion industry so started as a barely paid assistant at a prestigious PR company in London, that represented Ferragamo, Louis Feraud, Louis Vuitton, Principles, Wolford, Cerruti to name a few. It was a harrowing experience as the owner had daily temper tantrums, throwing various objects around the office and yelling at anyone in eyesight. The rung I was on there was so low I didn't even have an office to retreat to or a sturdy desk to hide under.

I was in charge of looking after all the samples from the designers that we kept at the offices. I would hand deliver pieces to photo shoots when needed, and/or retrieve them. A product nanny, in a sense. It was a brutal job, but I was very young and wanting to learn everything I could. The one saving grace of the day was GEORGE MICHAEL. This was at the height of WHAM fame. All the girls in the office would watch him walk past, our jaws on the floor - sometimes we got a bargain and Andrew Ridgeley would be with him. Their offices were in the same building as ours.

At the end of every season, all the samples had to be removed as the new season's line was coming in. That was my other job - to lug pounds of designer clothing and accessories to the local Op Shop (Thrift shop). Most were rejected as I was always told that my wares wouldn't be great sellers, "weird looking clothes and shoes" that to me were brilliant. A substantial amount of those rejectees found a home with me.

I have some fond memories of my days at the PR company. My most favorable memories are not set at the office though but chaperoning huge Louis Vuitton trunks to photo shoots in fabulous places in and around London, driver and all.

The Most Stunning Image

2009-03-04T14:56:00.000-08:00

Kate Moss, taken by Annie Leibovitz for American Vogue in 1999.

From Style.com.

Ho Hum

2009-03-02T10:20:00.000-08:00

Mad Girl's Love Song

2009-02-27T09:33:00.000-08:00

This was left by an "Anonymous" reader - I love this and thank you to my mysterious commenter.

"Mad Girl's Love Song"

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

By Sylvia Plath

Ready For Your Close-up?

2009-02-19T15:53:00.000-08:00

Blinds from Artylicious. Great idea if the view is a dreary wall or you have nosy neighbours!

Images: from Living Etc.

Unspoken Words

2009-02-14T06:00:00.000-08:00

Time + Distance

The tea you pour is black and strong.

It doesn't taste like tea to me;

I must have been away too long.

Where's that old fork with the bent prong?

What happened to the hemlock tree?

Have I really been gone that long?

I think I hear the saddest song;

It has no words, no tune, no key.

The tea you pour is black and strong.

You're careful to say nothing wrong,

You seem too eager to agree.....

Yes, I've been traveling far and long,

And now it's clear, I don't belong.

I watch you sash your robe, as we

sit, sipping tea that's black and strong.

I went away too far, too long.

by Leslie Monsour, from The Alarming Beauty of the Sky.

Seeing The Beauty

2009-02-12T08:57:00.000-08:00

I am not an Angeleno, but I am a "legal alien" (shouldn't that be changed at some stage - alien always sounds so suspect). This is my primary residence right now, due to my occupation. I arrived here initially at 22, without really knowing a soul. Like any new city, it took time to figure everything out, make friends, but looking back it was such an adventure, as still is.

Los Angeles does get a bad wrap at times........smog, earthquakes, crazy people, no architecture and on and on. I believe every city has history and there is beauty, compassion and inspiration - sometimes you just have to look up!

This building could be anywhere......a million dollar apartment overlooking Central Park, NY or a flat in Notting Hill, in London. But its 3rd and La Brea (heavy traffic area, for my out-of-town viewers) in LA on a particularly beautiful morning.

E.1027

2009-02-09T11:08:00.000-08:00

This house was originally designed and built by Eileen Gray - who was a Irish laquer artist, architect and designer. She is one of my favorite artists!

E.1027 was built between 1926 and 1929 by Gray as a summer residence for Jean Badovici. It is situated on the Mediterranean coast of France, at Roquebrune-Cap Martin overlooking the Bay of Monaco. The name of the house, E.1027, is a code for Eileen Gray and Jean Badovici, E standing for Eileen, 10 for J - "Jean" (10th letter of the alphabet), 2 for B - "Badovici", and 7 for G - "Gray". This was Gray's way of showing their relationship as lovers when the house was built.

Le Corbusier, who was a friend of Badovici's, visited E.1027 many times. He added a series of murals to the clean, white walls in the villa between 1937 - 39, without Gray's permission. She took this an intrusion and considered the murals vandalism. There has been much discussion on this subject as the murals were either painted out of admiration for her work or jealousy of

her accomplishments.

Gray was ahead of her time in regards to the design and interior of the house. Inside and out flowed together, every room flows out to a balcony, shutters, screens and windows are all moveable, allowing the hills and sea surrounding the house, to converge. Inside there was no wasted space, most furniture built-in and living areas open plan.

Jean Badovici lived in the house until his death in 1956. The house was then put up for auction and bought by a friend of Le Corbusier. The house has had two other owners. The second of which sold many of the villa's original contents to fund badly needed repair work, which unfortunately never got underway.

After the last owner's death, the house remained empty and was susceptible to vandals and squatters, who damaged the property extensively. In the early 90's Friends of E.1027 was set up to raise money to restore this now historic home.

P.S. My favorite weasel, La Belette Rouge just reminded me that there is an amazing documentary running on The Sundance Channel (sorry overseas viewers). Its called Eileen Gray: Invitation To A Voyage.

All images from Friends of E.1027

For all the middle children

2009-02-06T12:24:00.000-08:00

UNCLE JIM

What the children remember about Uncle Jim

is that on that train to Reno to get divorced

so he could marry again

he met another woman and woke up in California

It took him seven years to untangle that dream

but a man who could sing like Uncle Jim

was bound to get in scrapes now and then:

he expected it and we expected it.

Mother said, It's because he was the middle child,

and Father said, Yeah, where there's trouble

Jim's in the middle.

When he lost his voice he lost all of it

to the surgeon's knife and refused the voice box

they wanted to insert. In fact he refused

almost everything. Look, they said,

it's up to you. How many years

do you want to live? and Uncle Jim

held up one finger.

The middle one.

By Peter Meinke

From The Writers Almanac

Ssssshhhhhhhhh!

2009-02-04T13:43:00.000-08:00

Is it just me, or is there something really offensive about people speaking LOUDLY on their cell phones, in bookstores. I do understand that there are times when its unavoidable not to answer your cellphone - but I am more than certain that neither of the people I encountered today were brain surgeons, on call or that food and dress choices were emergencies.

I couldn't believe it! I stopped by my favorite bookstore this morning, to have a browse. Hadn't been there in a while so had lots to catch up on and was really looking forward to escaping from the craziness of life. I believe it really is one of the last bastions of peace and quiet. Maybe bookstores and libraries.

Loudly and quite out of nowhere, two separate cellphone conversations started up. She was discussing what her dinners plans were for tonight, and what was on the menu. Should she buy broccoli or broccoli rabe, and what was broccoli rabe anyway. Oh and how her date had gone last night.

The other conversation just made me giggle. He couldn't quite decide if he should wear the black T-shirt for his audition later today, or the white one. And what jeans, the dark denim ones with rips or the lighter jeans that were tight in all the right places! This went back and forth, and BACK AND FORTH.

I wanted to scream out really loudly - I DON'T CARE! This is a bookstore, and I WANT YOU TO PLEASE BE QUIET!

Goodness me !

2009-02-03T13:50:00.000-08:00

Some neighborhood cat (or cats) is coming off the most enormous high today. This is what I greeted this morning outside my front door. I laughed so hard. Catnip ripped to shreds and through wire, I might add. I spent hours devising this set-up to prevent this plant from being raped and pillaged by the ruffians of the fur kind, but obviously this didn't sway them one bit. What was I thinking, its pot for cats!

This was a bushy, healthy plant yesterday.

They even managed to pull storks out, with roots attached. It was obviously the place to party last night. I wonder if they finished the evening off with Doritos!

Can we say Global warming

2009-02-02T10:10:00.000-08:00

London today.

Heaviest snowfall in the United Kingdom, in 18 years!

Images: The Guardian

So Lofty

2009-01-26T14:45:00.000-08:00

This loft was featured in The New York Times this weekend. I have lived in many places but never Manhattan. If I were to live there - this is how I picture my "residence". I would obviously also be imagining an enormous bank account - this loft was $3.2 million.

For me, its the free-flowing, open plan feeling. Rooms full of inspiration. Slightly industrial but warm and inviting, at the same time.

Two single women share this apartment. They have their own living spaces with a communal interior hallway. One of the women wanted a full kitchen along with a marble counter top for candy making. The other was happy with a microwave.

Both an artists - one paints enormous canvases so needed the wall space - the other draws and created from her bed - so furnishings in her room are very minimal.
The bookcases in both lofts are pieces of art, in their own right.

Rain boots, Wellies, Galoshes, Gum Boots.......

2009-01-23T08:10:00.000-08:00

Thinking back, I spent half my life walking in wet, soggy school shoes. In the winter, it rained almost everyday and I had "to walk 5 miles, uphill both ways"! Our school uniform was mandatory and so were the hideous shoes. Basically factory grade leather with the most enormous flat, rubber wedge heel (why is there always just one option).

Its raining in Los Angeles today and that got me to thinking - why weren't any of these part of my uniform. Wouldn't that have been practical - I can understand that some of them are a little "loud" - but the Burberry studded ones would have been perfect - black, sensible and stylish!

Gone To The Birds

2009-01-22T14:54:00.000-08:00

It was love at first sight. This Habitat wool rug. The design theme this year is all about birds.

7:45am Staff Meeting

2009-01-20T18:41:00.001-08:00

@ The White House. Wow - he doesn't waste any time!

Martin Luther King (1929 - 1968)

2009-01-19T10:33:00.000-08:00

You faced injustice, hate and strife.

You fought for what should be.

You risked and finally gave your life,

So others could be free.

You could have hated, but you chose

To love and understand,

Rejecting violence to oppose

An evil in our land.

You'd not inflame, but still inspire,

With hope that wouldn't yield.

You called for boycotts, not to fire,

With faith your only shield.

You marched in protest for the poor

Of every shade and hue.

So many hardships you'd endure

For those who needed you.

You stirred a nation's heart and mind;

Your message still is clear:

That color's not how we're defined.

Your memory's always near.

Each year your birth's a holiday

The nation honors you,

And wonders when we'll see the day

Your dream at last comes true.

Author unknown.

I Completely Agree - "Hollywood" Luuvs A Comeback!

2009-01-12T10:01:00.000-08:00

Hollywood does love a comeback. This is the first year in many, that I haven't had to attend any of the Awards shows. Last night, I watched "The Globes" in bed, surrounded by my animals (my Xanax).

Now - I realize there are many who aren't fans of Mickey Rourke and his antics - he's been a bad boy, lets not forget that. But this I loved. How very honest of him.

"Sometimes when a man's alone, all you got are your dogs and they meant the world to me".

-Mickey Rourke, during his acceptance speech for Best Actor at the Golden Globes.

After asking for a bowl of water, for his beloved "friend" at the Chateau Marmont, he said to a reporter,

"She's like a giant Xanax, you know? I'm not going to get religious on you ass, but I truly believe God created dogs for a cause. They are the greatest companions a man could ever have".

-Mickey talking about his 16 year old Chihuahua terrier mix, Loki, at a press conference.

Friday

2009-01-09T20:49:00.000-08:00

Have a really lovely weekend.

A Little Color Porn

2009-01-07T15:38:00.000-08:00

To start off the New Year - I thought we would start with this Victorian house in London. Owned by textile designer, Chrissie Probert Jones. She owns Stitch Designworks which is a gorgeous online textiles store. (And no, I don't make a commission - I just love her taste).

Ikea sofas in the conservatory.

White board that covers one wall of the kitchen.

Bits and bobs from Ikea. Is this just a little too much clutter? I realize that this has probably been styled for this photo.

Note the brick floors. I do hope they have underfloor heating.

The Frame wallpaper is from Graham and Brown.

The runner is made up of six Ikea runners sewn together by Chrissie. I love the striped wellies.

The Matthew Williamson from Habitat wallpaper has been customized by light reflecting jewels.

All images: courtesy of Living Etc

Its A Sad Day...

2009-01-07T11:02:00.000-08:00

When "Rock Of Love Bus" on VH1 is getting me through the wee hours. I'm struggling with jet lag! And there's nothing like flying 1/2 way across the world to put things into perspective for 2009. Had Christmas and brought in the New Year in the sun. Its where I grew up so its normal not to be freezing cold over the Holidays.

Are You On The Verge?

2008-12-20T10:18:00.001-08:00

Are you getting teary-eyed in the grocery store when "Joy To The World" muzak plays ? Seeing commercials on TV - a smiley "family" exchanging gifts in front of a roaring fire. Wishing you had that perfect, unproblematic family. Hearing Christmas carols being played endlessly on most radio stations. When is it all too much ?

There is an older man who lives in my neighborhood. He walks passed my place at exactly the same time every morning. Where does he goes? He never has visitors, only goes out for his walk in the morning and to go to the local grocery store. There is no existence of Holiday decorations at all.

Should I leave a small gift on his doorstep? He has been my neighbor for almost 3 years. Or does he not celebrate the Holidays because he doesn't believe in them or maybe he doesn't have family, or are they disconnected. Maybe he doesn't have anyone to celebrate them with and its easier to let it slide by quietly. Has no-one invited him to a Holiday dinner. Would leaving a token of the Holidays remind him that he is completely alone. Why is he alone ?

And what about the woman who hasn't been able to find a job in over a year ? I asked if she was going to see either of her daughters (who live locally) for Christmas? "Maybe" she said, "I don't know".

The Holiday Season is bittersweet in so many ways. Its is the one of the saddest and loneliest times of the year, for more people than we all know. A time when people who had or are dealing with heartache, loss, tragedy in their lives have those feelings at the forefront. When some would probably want to curl up in a ball and not deal. Military families wondering if their sons and/or daughters will be celebrating with them next year. Gaps around the Holiday table, family members who are out of touch.

Am I the only one that feels like this? Am I? Let me know either way. Are you someone who has had tragedy but chooses to forge ahead with your Holiday head held high?

Back in the Land of the Living

2008-12-17T11:03:00.000-08:00

I was here (the above photo), got back on Friday and on Sunday afternoon had possibly the worst case of food poisoning I have ever had. I've traveled the world, eaten the weirdest food from the strangest places, and yet I know for sure that it was something from my local supermarket here, in Los Angeles.

Spanxs Alert Or Start Your Diet Now

2008-12-05T08:52:00.000-08:00

Victoria Beckham (Posh to her friends) released her new line of dresses - "The Dress Collection" at Selfridges yesterday. By 3:00pm - only 3 dresses were left. The production was limited to 400 pieces and received rave reviews at New York Fashion Week.

OK - now lets be honest......some of the these are lovely but no one over a size 0 can really wear these dresses. For those not included in that category it would entail wearing at least 3 pairs of Spanx.

Having You Been Craving Color?

2008-11-26T09:50:00.003-08:00

Oh boy, have I ever? I am forever searching. My first prowl is always to Corine's Hidden In France. She always finds the most amazing, colorful treats! And she makes me laugh out loud!

I am all for color - the brighter, the better. And right now hot pink has become a little bit of an addiction. I have always loved color. It started at an early age - painting my Barbie's plastic shoes with nail polish when I was young, as Mattel just didn't get them bright enough for my taste.

This is Nisi Berryman's 1,100 sq foot, 1950's bungalow. Its situated in Miami Beach's Palm View Historical District. She is the founder of NIBA Home showroom, which I could get lost in.

Her home is filled with refinished flea market finds. She moved walls and added floor boards and valances, to reorganize the floor plan of the house.

The colors in the bungalow range from a very deep chartreuse in the living to this violet in the dining room. Note: the very retro feathered chandelier.

Lisi designed the magenta Lucite coffee table. The drapes are made from outdoor fabric.

The moorish-inspired custom headboard is fantastic. The floor lamp is a custom design from NIBA home, the vintage bedside lamp is another flea market find.

I could be very happy living in this little slice of heaven. She even has a hot pink front door. My kind of girl!

And on that note: Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Source: obviously - Metropolitan Home

Hello Dolly

2008-11-24T18:55:00.000-08:00

To celebrate Russian Vogue's 10th anniversary, some of fashion's biggest names were asked to design a dress for a matrioshka - a traditional Russian doll. These dolls were auditioned off for charity.

The designer's sketches were "brought-to-life" so to speak by Russian craftsmen, who hand-painted the dolls.

Versace

Yves Saint Laurent

Marc Jacobs

Blumarine

Moschino

Emilio Pucci

Burberry

Dries Van Noten

Others included Dolce and Gabbana, Celine, Giorgio Armani, Stella McCartney, Maison Martin Margiela and Marni to name a few.

Source: British Vogue

The Man Bra - It Had to Happen

2008-11-21T10:01:00.000-08:00

CLICK HERE.......

Nothing fetish about this. But all I can say is WHY, why? I can't wait to unleash myself from its hold at the end of the day! 300 have been sold online, in the last two weeks. Didn't Seinfeld call it "The Bro" or was it a "Man-sierre"?

Source: The Guardian

The Very Talented Soodie Beasley

2008-11-19T19:12:00.000-08:00

She is one of my closest friends and after months of harassing her to start a blog, she has, and its just brilliant. Not only is Soodie an extremely talented interior and furniture designer, web designer, arts and antiques appraiser and educator, she is also an amazing artist who sees the funny side of life.

A very special Westie sidekick appears in her most of her artwork.

Take a gander at her blog and website.

On a side note, I sense a cocktail theme in many of her drawings here, and in my opinion, there's nothing wrong with that.

Its Happening Everywhere

2008-11-18T08:30:00.000-08:00

College students at a job fair in Changchun, China.

Lets Move To.....oh OK, if you insist!

2008-11-14T15:44:00.000-08:00

I just love to read The Guardian on-line. One of my favorite sections is "Lets Move To......". Every Saturday morning, English houses of every variety are profiled. From Property Of The Week to Wreck Of The Week (local mice and bats are included).

I spent my most of my "tween" years at a boarding school in the middle of the English countryside. It was originally an Abbey - cloisters and all. Extremely isolated - in fact the only structure that signified the village was a mail (post) box and a telephone booth.

We had "bovver boys" (think bikers) - well what they liked to call themselves anyway. They were actually the sweet, local boys who would come onto the school grounds at night riding their loud, clacketty motorbikes and circle the fountain. Maybe thats a whole other post - very St.Trinian's-like.

When I read Lets Move...on Saturday mornings I'm transported back into that time when my only priorities were how to wear three pairs of tights to keep warm, and what concoction was for breakfast. The school cook was under the impression that if frozen fish fingers were placed in the warming drawers early in the morning, "they'd be cooked by dinner. Need I say more.

Heads Up Angelenos

2008-11-12T08:56:00.000-08:00

Stark Carpet is opening its doors to the public for a limited time in Los Angeles. There will be over 40,000 square-feet of designer merchandise, at sale prices. This includes area rugs, wall-to-wall carpets, remnants, fabric and wall covering.

There will also be specially priced fabrics by Brunschwig and Fils. I am especially excited about this as I have been looking for fabric to recover a wing back chair which has seen better days!

The sale starts November 14th - November 26th at HD Buttercup in Culver City, California.

Sorry to anyone not in Los Angeles, we will be thinking of you though.

Tatebanko Paper Dioramas with drama

2008-11-11T09:19:00.000-08:00

I have never been a fan of the old dusty, dead animal dioramas so these were pleasant surprise.

From Japan, they are a groovy and inexpensive gift. There are several different varies to choose from and they are sold in kit form.

Tatebanko is the forgotten art of creating 3D scenes from paper. Was widely popular in the 17th century to the 20th century and then disappeared.

What a great way to revive and reinterpret this amazing art form. They are sold individually, or in a box set of 3.

Kits can be purchased from B5+10 which is one of my favorite online stores.

Liselotte Watkins

2008-11-10T13:43:00.000-08:00

I think in another life I was probably either Swedish or Danish. I am forever interested in artists/designers from there. My latest "crush" is Liselotte Watkins and her extraordinary illustrations and talent.

"People sometimes find the girls in my drawings to be too good looking and inaccessible, but to me they're not. To me these girls are like friends because I spend so much time with them".

Liselotte Watkins was born 1971 in Nykoping, Sweden. She studied at The Art Institute in Dallas, USA and has worked as a fashion illustrator since the late 1990's. Her art reminds me so much of the Biba world in the 60's and 70's, which I love but was too young to be a part of.
She have worked with the following: Vogue (UK, Japan, Italy), Elle (USA,UK, France) and Mac Cosmetics to name, just a few. I saw her illustrations in the autumn edition of H&M magazine.

She published her first book in 2003. Entitled Watkins' Heroine, which is unfortunately out of print. Her cheery, bright illustrations are such a vacation for the senses.

Q: You are famous for doing illustrations of girls with a distinct urban, cool and glamorous look. How did it all start?

"Urban, cool girls are what inspires me. Lately urban, cool guys as well, actually. It started when I was about twelve and went to see Flashdance. It was a revolution in my life at the time, coming from a small farm. I wanted to live in a big city, to read Vogue, to have a pit-bull and to weld. The welding never developed into career, but I learned how to do it".

The entire interview is here on Pipel.

Kenneth Kvarnström

2008-11-09T08:46:00.000-08:00

You may have all realized by now, my OBSESSION with mid century/50's furniture and design. I simply love the way Kenneth Kvarnström has decorated his apartment in Sodermalm. He's the artistic director for the House Of Dance in Stockholm.

Three entrances into this room create open and easy access. Kenneth worked with a Swedish architect to alter the kitchen. What a great way to hold plates and bowls. And the enormous clock is from TickTockClocks in the UK but I found a similar one at Simply Wall clocks.

These signs were found in Paris where he sometimes works. Each sign has a memory connected to it. Note the parquet floors which hide a multitude of sins and are easy to maintain. I have them in my home and they are brilliant.
Small signs, tags and notes are hung in inexpensive, black frames and are rotated often. Ikea is always a great place to find a bargain. The floor has been painted a high gloss white which I personally love. It brightens up the room and the reflection itself, is an art piece.
His apartment is filled with numberplates and signs as he says they are inexpensive art. (Sadly in the US they are very pricey and most are fakes. But the real can sometimes still be found on Ebay).

Photos: Martin Lof/Martin Lof

Full of hope

2008-11-05T08:31:00.000-08:00

130 million people turned out to vote. The most ever to vote in a presidential election.

A monumental day. A bright and hopeful day. A new day.....

Photo credit: maxedaperture

"Its The Editing and the Producers"

2008-10-30T09:15:00.000-07:00

Is it really ? Lets be honest - reality TV is here for a reason. Its entertainment and a platform to launch chefs, fashion designers, interior designers and/or anyone who is addicted to attention (ie. most of the girls on Rock Of Love Charm School, the "Housewives" ladies), to name a few. Reality TV and the blogs that come with them are brutal, and contestants on these shows need to have a thick skin going in, or they will crumble.

But if you are going to launch a new "character" on one of these reality shows - admit to that fact that you are doing it for "camera time". I find it disappointing when on "fallen contestants" websites and blogs, they constantly blame producers and editors for portraying them in a certain light. The material has to be there for the show to use it. Are they embarrassed and ashamed of the way they acted. Has an enormous mirror been held up to them? If there must be blame - why not split it. Half to the producers/editors and half to the contestant, themselves.

The support of mean-spirited and insecure behaviour on these shows by bloggers, is the most surprising to me. Comments are left commending them on their conduct. "Friends" and supporters leaving messages as to what a kind and talented person they really are, and how badly they were portrayed. Thats just plain sycophantical.

In the end, shows are won on merits rather than dismal personalities.