hear my song, it will show you the way you can shine

Generally I am not a fan of the manifesto or "mission statement," if you will; they get too close to standing on a soapbox. Being polemical or belligerent, often being narrow-minded and damaging in their speech...it is impossible to argue with someone on a verbal rampage, because they never seek to learn, but rather seek to reassert their own "correct" opinion. Ad hominem, etcetera. If there's one thing that I think could destroy our world, it's human beings with reductive thoughts and hate in their hearts.

Phew. Excuse my own little manifesto.

Anyway, the point of this post is point out two people who get the manifesto right-- it's about what they believe, not what is. It's a way of life, a preferred way, but one that is still personal to the believer and anyone else who might self-elect into belief. It is not the only way; it is not denigrating to others; and most importantly, it comes from a place of love and beauty and learning. Anyone who seeks to be a life-long learner and purveyor of wisdom is a-ok in my book.

The first of these? Miss (now Mrs., officially!) Katie Armour, whose neotraditional style is after my own heart (although mine might have a bit more bohemia thrown in). It's a philosophy of loveliness and simple beauties:

We believe…

We believe in being glass-half-full sorts of girls.

We believe that often times, granny is chic.

We believe in peddling vintage Schwinns with flower baskets.

We believe in poetry, picnics, and piñatas.

We believe one is never too old to keep a diary, the secrets only grow more scandalous.

We believe in arranging fresh flowers unruly like an English garden.

We believe in adventure and traveling the globe, be it to Marrakech or Malibu.

We believe in mixing lucite with oriental rugs. Thrift store finds with heirlooms.

We believe in handwritten thank you notes, better late than never.

We believe in needlepoint, letterpress, decoupage and forgiving Martha Stewart.

We believe in piggy banks and cookie jars.

We believe in book clubs full of Fitzgerald, Hemingway, Austen and Woolf.

We believe station wagons are hopelessly chic.

We believe in recycling our Grandmothers’ names. Eloise, Jackie, Faye…

We believe in collecting: stamps, shells, books, big glittering diamonds…

We believe in marrying the boy that writes us the best love letters.

We believe in highly competitive board games—Chess, Scrabble, Chutes & Ladders.

We believe in spontaneous road trips and charming, chintzy bed & breakfasts.

We believe there’s something to fortune cookies, wishbones and 4 leaf clovers.

We believe in classics, shaken and stirred.

How can you argue with that? But the best part is, if someone does and peddles Philip Roth and Dan Brown, or even if someone differs slightly (like me) and wouldn't mind being the one writing the love letters instead of the other way around, that's just fine. Either we can shake our heads and marvel at the differences in others' tastes, or we can invite all the chipped teacups under the umbrella (that's a mixed metaphor if there ever was one!) and appreciate them for what they might be able to offer us. Maybe the manifesto will even change with time...

Check back tomorrow for the second manifesto-maker-made-good. I'm sleepy, and I have a meeting with Sir Department Chair tomorrow that will not permit me to laze the day away. Goodnight, dear ones...

Thought bubble: I'll take the ride, and you may not hop into the driver's seat, but maybe you'll be an occasional travel companion, or at least a slightly-unwilling-but-still-smiling-because-my-enthusiasm-about-randomness-is-what-makes-me-me listener to my tales.

"Of shoes-- and ships-- and sealing wax

Of cabbages-- and kings--"