I don’t know what’s wrong with me by now you’d think I’d learned my lesson. Once again, after experiencing tremendous hair frustration I took a pair of scissors and whacked about 5 inches off the bottom. Think puff ball with legs. This is the reason your hairdresser deserves a great tip. I should take a photo and hang it next to my scissors..just in case I ever get this brilliant idea..which I am sure I will. Glutton.
Our morning walk. We came home with a collection of acorn tops..the squirrels beat us to the punch.
Happy Shoes..Happy day. Many months ago my younger brother sent these shoes to my daughter. He wanted her to have “happy shoes” just like she had when she was smaller. Only the box arrived and they were HUGE…HUMONGOUS. It was a family joke that she would eventually fit and wear them when she went off to college. Luckily she didn’t have to wait that long. The wait is over..and her feet couldn’t be happier.
That award-winning photograph of the Iberian wolf I posted this morning was taken with a Hasselblad. I should’ve known.
I take this out of its Haliburton case every once in awhile, just to hold it and remember my dad. And remember how this camera was always with him. From my earliest childhood memories, he carried this everywhere.
I’m so happy it’s with me now, because he isn’t.
how wonderful to have something that was so personal to him…and for it to be in your hands now. I hope you’ll share some of his photographs.
(via superbomba)
Flashback moment.! When I was bootcamp, bars just like these tortured my insides. For some reason while others could keep their arms strong and elbows tight and hold their heads above the bar my arms were like slinkys. I was up there one second eyes closed, teeth gritting and just like that I was down in 7 seconds flat. (Which at the time seemed to be an eternity) Somehow after a million push ups later I managed to conquer that bar..but still many moons later I can’t pass one of these things without cringing and laughing on the inside. Ooh Rah.
A short, edited list of things I have packed, in no particular order: Balinese bone sculptures, Japanese birthday flags, pool balls, mink penis bones, petrified seahorses, coral from Tulum, rocks from Nice, shark tooth shaped pieces of wood from the North Coast, shibori, antique keys from Fayence, a tiny test tube with a Happy Birthday note in it, twenty fortunes from fortune cookies, died eggs from Easter two years ago, polar bears in four sizes (one origami), a (broken)plastic goldfish (which I have wrapped, and unwrapped, eight times now - it has travelled literally thousands of miles), a love letter from Yasmin, a broken figurine Harper made of himself in Kindergarten, a lightbulb, a small pill case with a turquoise inlay I got for one of my teenage birthdays from Helen, a reverse cut woodblock that says “ynnuS”, two bulls horns, various postcards and photographs, a scrap of gold-leafed leather, some suede that discoloured, perfectly, in the sunlight, a cicada in glass, a voodoo doll I made for Simon, the Squirrel’s first pair of Nikes, a pocket map of Paris, a ceramic mushroom, a Thai white elephant.
None of these things worth anything but to me, for whom they quite literally vibrate with meaning; all, each and every one, beautiful, priceless and completely irreplaceable.
personal treasures.
The light in my rooms is a narrative all day long. This morning’s story: THE SUN! I was so freaking glad to finally see it that I bounced around my place, taking pictures of that gorgeous, bright yellow light. I swear, I need it like I need air.
The Naked Rationer (1941)
Young Dutchman walking down city street, naked save for a fedora and shoes as he dares punishment by the SS while protesting clothes rationing by the occupying Germans.
That’ll “show em”.
I like this one.
