30 November 2009

Some days I feel like if I don't write I'll just explode. On a day like today I'd probably burst into a blue flame of book pages and student essays. I need to keep telling myself that I'm happy because otherwise I'll forget. It's easy for me to forget how good I really have it when I get myself into one of my stirred-up moods. I was just feeling oddly homesick today, which is strange. I'm homesick for all of my homes from the last 5 years-- St. Louis, where I have so many wonderful memories and with so many artistic marvels within arms length...New York, where I have exbf and Bryant Park and so much activity and culture...DC, where I have the best friends a girl could possibly ask for, true soulmates...and Cleveland, with my family, where I discovered some hidden treasures this weekend and where I oddly feel myself drawn, even to teach at my former high school.
When I started this blog two years ago, I remember remarking that this time of year is hard for me. I think it might be that I always feel slightly on the outside of the holiday cheer, because I'm so often transitioning to a new city and trying to find my "home," and this time of year is really all about loved ones, memories, and special places. It's also the time of year when exbf and I first became friends and, not too soon after that, more than friends. It's always difficult to be flooded with those memories when things are so different now. This time of year, and the accompanying chill, always makes me long for body heat and familiarity. It makes me long for lighting candles together and eating holiday cookies, and being so overwhelmed with joy that you actually twinkle. Then again, I recognize that I'm working on developing myself as an individual right now and that romance will follow. I'm supposed to be with somebody; it just always happens when I'm not looking.

And high above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you.

29 November 2009

We passed the hash pipe, we played our Doors tapes

This still remains one of the best things I've ever seen:

28 November 2009

Who knows what tomorrow brings

You're not a dream
You're not an angel
You're a man
I'm not a queen
I'm a woman
Take my hand
We'll make a space
in the lives
that we'd planned
And here we'll stay
until it's time
for you to go
Yes we're different
Worlds apart
We're not the same
We laughed and played
in the start
like in a game
You could've stayed
outside my heart
but in you came
And here you'll stay
until it's time
for you to go
Don't ask why
Don't ask how
Don't ask forever
Love me now
This love of mine
had no beginning
it has no end
I was an oak
Now I'm a willow
Now I can bend
And though I'll never
in my life
see you again
Still I'll stay
until it's time
for you to go
Don't ask why
Don't ask how
Don't ask forever
Love me now
You're not a dream
You're not an angel
You're a man
I'm not a queen
I'm a woman
Take my hand
We'll make a space
in the lives
that we planned
And here we'll stay
until it's time
for you to go.
"Then in the middle of my set, I'd throw in this love song that I had written, because, you know, I was in love, and I found out that, you know, sometimes you just have to leave a space in your life for life to happen, see?"
~Buffy Sainte-Marie~

(photos from here, ever beautiful)

26 November 2009

The smoke it sank into my skin

I want a man with a poet's eyes and a pirate's voice.

"Her heart was so laden
She fell by a tree
Sang of some pirate
Who haunted the sea
A wail through the willows
All hollow through the willows
She'll wail through the willows
Till she finds him."

"There's a man who's been out sailing
In a decade full of dreams
And he takes her to a schooner
And he treats her like a queen
Bearing beads from California
With their amber stones and green
He has called her from the harbor
He has kissed her with his freedom
He has heard her off to starboard
In the breaking and the breathing
Of the water weeds
While she was busy being free."

24 November 2009

23 November 2009

Sunday kind of girl...

I think my version would include these:
(all items from Anthropologie and J. Crew)

19 November 2009

the strange pillows of my wanderlust

Some things I love/lust after right now:
The lovely Abbie Cornish, looking ethereal on this cover-- and memories of Bright Star, from which images are displayed below.
Ben Whishaw's notes for Bright Star-- how lovely is his penmanship?
I love these magical words
As always, Anthropologie beguiles...
It never gets old-- I cranked up the radio today in the car so I could sing along:
This incredible article about Joni Mitchell's "Amelia"

The anticipation of seeing "An Education" tomorrow

Weekend. Almost. Finally.

18 November 2009

God that was strange to see you again

There's one thing I want to say, so I'll be brave
You were what I wanted, I gave what I gave
I'm not sorry I met you
I'm not sorry it's over
I'm not sorry there's nothing to save
I'm not sorry there's nothing to save
I want dresses that look like cakes
I want dusted eyelashes
I want a moment to close my eyes and dream and wake up refreshed
I want sugared violets
I want cool clear streams
I want glossy lips and sweet tastes on the tongue
I want to have my thoughts and words come easily
I want to stroke the softness behind your ear, that feels like clouds
I want unicorns to exist

I long for the moors

16 November 2009

this time I as I, and not as we

Today I was talking to one of my 11th graders who is having trouble writing her essay that's due Thursday. She feels like her thoughts are all tangled and she has no idea how to get out on paper what she is trying to say. Obviously, this is a problem I've had over the years, more with oral communication than written...but I've had to read my writing with a critical eye, piling words and arguments like a child would blocks until all of my components are present. Getting started was always the hardest. I had to learn to pour myself out onto the page, unfiltered and raw, and worry about purity and structure later. That's when I found myself saying to her, "That's why I have my blog. It's my raw space." Of course, she then wanted to know the URL, which is not happening. First of all, I'm uncomfortable with my students knowing my personal thoughts to that degree, and secondly, there's something so reassuring about sending my thoughts out into this vastness, touching immaterial forms, like they're flowing into the sea. I write here what I can't say to anyone, and it's so important that I have that sounding board, because otherwise I bottle it up and get want-to-cry headaches that pain me throughout the day.
Sometimes when I have a moment to breathe, I wipe away the negativity and the stress and the words of the haters and realize that overall, I'm in a good place right now. I still lack balance, and I wish I were better...I wish it came easier. I wish my words flowed like a stream instead of like debris projectiling from a wrecking ball. I wish that I had friends here and that I had more hours in the day. But my students are loving, and for all of the problems that come with the 10th graders, I know that I've positively affected at least one child every day. I may be too exhausted and cranky to realize it in the moment, but afterwards, I can take a step back and realize that on the disaster continuum of first-year teachers, I'm probably doing pretty well.
I took these photos today. Dried roses + glitter + teacups + crochet + crystal garlands= lovely.

14 November 2009

Just to say

that I think that sleep is magical, as are confetti picture frames, glitter-dusted rose-petals, miniature houses, vintage buttons, bows, a good biography, and a moment to breathe.


13 November 2009

drip drip plop

I want a bowl of sweet red plums on my dining table, like these from Pia's blog. How lovely!

This Is Just to Say

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

11 November 2009

Beware of fainting fits...beware of swoons...

Run mad as often as you like; but do not faint.

I feel like I'm drowning in my own bottled-up tears and my own inadequacy. I know that I am just beating myself up for nothing-- for my lack of perfection-- but it's also a lack of
preparation. I know I can be doing better. But the fact is, I get home at 5 PM after being up since 6 AM and having been on my feet all day, and I'm overwhelmed with the urge to be still. To not think. To light candles and eat heart-shaped pasta and dream of canopy beds. I long for the moors...and for unicorns to exist.

I have a black-tie "do" for school on Saturday night, so I plan on gett
ing my hair styled by a professional. An updo, I think, to complement the sweetheart "neckline" and crew-neck top. It's oddly like Emily Deschanel's dress below. Of course, it's the Deschanel sisters whose styles inspire me. I need something with some volume at the crown to detract from my round face, with a sweep of my bangs to add a retro edge, and something on the simpler (and lower) side in back. What do you think?

10 November 2009

indie girl in indy

I know I just posted, but I can't help it...this is incredible:

ashes and wine

I have the best exbf ever. He is getting me a housewarming present for the new apartment (new pictures to come, I promise-- I am now the proud owner of a sapphire blown-glass flower, a jade garden stool that holds up my DVD player, a copper wrought-iron table with delicate lattice and leaf scroll work, and a gorgeous peacock painting to decorate my previously empty hallway), so in a few days, these will be mine. They are so Holly Golightly meets Ophelia, it makes me swoon.
Castles and cathedrals crumble
Pyramids and pipelines tumble
The failure keeps you humble
Leads us closer to peace

"The love was so right but the timing was so wrong...which may be the corniest thing I've ever said to anyone."

take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while...vienna waits for you

08 November 2009

is that alright, yeah

Give my gun away when it's loaded

This is not what I do...

07 November 2009

lover, you should have come over

Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?

Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,

While barrèd clouds bloom the soft-dying day,

And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue...

~Keats, "To Autumn"~

06 November 2009

Proust, please

Adapted from here
  • Your most marked characteristic? passion.
  • The quality you most like in a man? artistic sensitivity.
  • The quality you most like in a woman? quirkiness.
  • What do you most value in your friends? their complete dedication to being good people and supportive friends.
  • What is your principle defect? anxiety that can cause a life-blockade.
  • What is your favorite occupation? teaching.
  • What is your dream of happiness? Happiness is when I won't have to dream of happiness, because I will finally be content with my surroundings.
  • What to your mind would be the greatest of misfortunes? not finding true love (again), not having children.
  • What would you like to be? myself.
  • In what country would you like to live? England, without doubt. I long for the moors.
  • What is your favorite color? forest green, bordeaux.
  • What is your favorite flower? black magic roses, lavender roses, sweet williams.
  • What is your favorite bird? peacock.
  • Who are your favorite prose writers? Thomas Hardy, Charlotte Bronte, A. S. Byatt, Evelyn Waugh, F. Scott Fitzgerald.
  • Who are your favorite poets? Keats, Tennyson, Neruda, Cummings.
  • Who is your favorite hero of fiction? Sebastian Flyte.
  • Who are your favorite heroines of fiction? Tess Durbeyfield, Jane Eyre, Anne Shirley.
  • Who are your favorite composers? Debussey.
  • Who are your favorite painters? Klimt, Waterhouse, Kandinsky, Chagall.
  • Who are your heroes in real life? Audrey Hepburn, Charlotte Bronte, Decca Mitford.
  • Who are your favorite heroines of history? Queen Victoria, Evelyn Nesbit, the Garman sisters
  • What are your favorite names? Tessa, Sophie, Audrey, Holly, Jacob.
  • What is it you most dislike? apathy.
  • What historical figures do you most despise? Hitler.
  • What gift do you most admire? patience, altruism
  • What natural gift would you most like to possess? the ability to clearly speak my mind.
  • How would you like to die? after meeting my great-grandchildren, but when I still have grasp of my memories.
  • What is your present state of mind? stressed, overwhelmed, exhausted, hopeful.
  • To what faults do you feel most indulgent? emotional over-involvement.
  • What is your motto? 'There is a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in." ~Leonard Cohen

05 November 2009

burn, cinnamon candle, burn. permeate my soul.

Do you remember that sunny day?
Somewhere in London
In the middle of nowhere
Didn't have nothing to do that day
Didn't want to do nothing anyway
You got a way of walking
You got a way of talking
And there's something about you
And now I know I never ever
Want to be without you
I want to be haunted by the ghost
I want to be haunted by the ghost
I want to be haunted by the ghost
I want to be haunted by the ghost
Of your precious love
Of your precious love
The first time I saw you
Standing in the street
You were so cool,
You could have put out Vietnam
My girlfriends ask me, "What's he like?:
I say, "He's kind of shy,
But that's the kind of girl I am,
He's my kind of guy."
I'll build my world around you
I'll bless the day that I found you
I'll stand beside you, I'll never leave
Or tell you all those lies
That you'd never believe.
I dream of warm baths and sea glass / peacock portraits and tender poets

pictures from here, here, here