Wednesday, April 6, 2011

April Showers

I feel Spring a coming!

A Study in Typography

I love font. I love to look at it. I love to mess around with it. I love to change it's color and size when I am entering thoughts in MacJournal based on my state of mind. I am sure there are design purists who would cringe at my entries. Lighten up kids, it's just type. Don't take yourselves so seriously ALL of the time. I walked past the stack of books growing on my mantle and noticed Font above all things the other day. So I thought I would share.


Ok for all you Typo-Philes out there. Wanna ID them all? :)

Playing with light

I had gear over the weekend so I decided to play a little. Had a little fun with Bokeh. I probably should have put on makeup but whatevs. Take a look at my shameless self portrait. High and Tight.

More Food, More Photos

So I am still having a little fun with this food photography thing. Here is my latest recipe. On Self  the recipe is actually Mediterranean Pita Nachos. Here is the recipe
Cut the two sides of a 4-inch pita into 8 triangles; spritz with cooking spray, broil until crispy. Top triangles with 1/2 cup chopped roasted red peppers, 1/3 cup white beans, 1/4 cup nonfat plain Greek yogurt, 2 tbsp chopped olives, 2 tbsp pesto.

But since I didn't have any pitas or olives I had to improvise. Also I really like tzatziki instead of just the plain greek yogurt. So here are my Mediterranean Nachos a la NY.

1 English Muffin toasted. Top with 1/2 cup roasted red peppers, 1/3 cup white beans, 1/4 cup tzatziki, 2 Tbsp pesto. Super easy and great flavor combination. Enjoy!


Saturday, April 2, 2011

Yummy

I have been doing  a lot of cooking lately. I am in the mode of healthy eating and I ran across some excellent recipes thanks to Self.com. And since I am shooting mode this weekend I thought I would include some food shots. I could totally see myself exploring food photography. Especially now that it seems to have a lot more range as far as lighting is concerned.  I love the naturally lit still life type where there is some softness to the image. So here was my crack at it this morning. Mind you I wanted to eat it so I didn't take a ton of time with the shots but I think it's a good place to start.


This was my breakfast. Poached Egg on Tomatoes with Basil. My first poached egg ever. I had to look up in my cookbook to see how to do it. I always thought they sounded gross. Boy was I wrong. Super yummy.



This was a stew with Quinoa, Chicken Sausage and Caulifower. You top it with a dollop of pesto sauce and Viola! Pair with with a crusty Italian Pan slathered with Tzatziki and a little more pesto and you have yourself a "lil lunch"  You can find the lunch recipe on Self.com.

1000 Words



I have a book in storage in Ca that I am so bummed I can't get to right now. Here are some pics of it. 




I ran across yet another MacJournal entry yesterday that was a writing exercise from the last image. You basically use the images to kick your creative writer into gear.  Here is what I wrote. It was really cool to revisit my old entries. Definitely puts me in the mood to scratch the paper.


The lamp on the night stand illuminated the crumpled pillows and scattered sheets. She had crawled into bed with him and and wrapped her arms around his tight waist. She loved to run her fingers along the muscles in his abdomen. But now the bed was empty. Covers kicked back in frustration or was it lust. His pillow laid out flatly across the bed while hers lay in  a crumpled mass where she had hugged it tightly to her when she turned from him. Why do I always end up here?  Always dark and lonely. Maybe it is time for a new story. Maybe they are on the floor sitting against the bed naked before one another doing there best to be as naked emotionally as they are physically.  Maybe they are on the floor making love for the first time. Maybe they are on the shower getting ready to make their 5 am flight home from a restful week in Paris. The lights are on and the room would be dark if not the lamps kissing the pillow from either side of the bed.  The hotel room is quiet except for the shower running. She sits on the edge of the sink plucking her eyebrows as he  lathers up. Pluck, pluck  pluck. She rubs the space between her eyes as tears sting the corners. Sometimes it is so not fun to be a girl. A woman, I am now a woman. Pluck, pluck pluck. She climbs down from the bathroom counter and turns to look at the empty bed. Can’t we just crawl back in? The pillows soft against her head. The covers warm against her back. She longs to hide in there with him forever. She walks slowly from the bathroom and stands at the bottom edge of the bed her shadow cast along the kicked back covers. She hears the water stop as the faucet handle creaks in his hand. The snap of the towel off the rack makes her jump. She turns toward the door where steam rises from the crack at the floor and she sinks down to her knees and leans against the unmade bed waiting for him to return. I don’t want to leave she cries in her own head. i don’t want the bed to be empty any more. I want there to be happy loving couples curled up underneath the covers.  I want there to be deliciously spent couples sprawled across the the top of the sheets now damp with sweat.  I want there to be couples in jammies with kitties purring at their feet. Empty beds make me sad. Empty beds make me feel empty.  Empty beds don’t seem safe and beds should be safe places.  

The alarm went off and it was still way too dark out for it to be reasonable to be awake. But this was the first day of the rest of their lives together. The wedding had been a dream. Or had it really happened? Oh yes it was real Kate just hadn’t gotten enough sleep in between the wedding and the alarm to get any distance to remember. His pillow made it look like he hadn’t even moved once he fell asleep while hers looked like she wrestled with it all night. The covers had been kicked off early in the evening and remained in a tangle on the floor. All that remained was the sheet that had barely covered them as they slept and dreamt of what the new day would bring. The new day brought a 4:30 am wake up call and a 10 minute snooze they really couldn’t afford. Now the bed lay empty as they shared a shower in an effort to make up some time. Well maybe that wasn’t all they were making up for as they were now more late than ever. Both bedside lamps had been flipped into action as the panic of missing their flight to Paris became a realization if there were to be any more lounging. Most hotel beds don’t compare to your own anyway so why would you want to waste your time, but these were different. Soft, plush, warm and cool all at the same time. And best of all they were finally together in one. Bed. 

I write what I know best and these days i am an expert in solo sleeping. Solo sleeping is where one side of the bed barely even show signs of wear. One pillow is still plump and perfect while the other is crushed and balled up. Not a wrinkle in the sheets on that side of the bed. Well maybe this time there are. Must have been a restless night. Restless dreams. Restless feet. Restless feelings.  Must have been a muggy night as the comforter has been kicked to the floor. All that remains are the sheets in a tangle. Just enough to cover but not enough to restrict.Why do hotels always have all white linens. o h I get it for laundry purposes and all but you would think they could come up with something a little more aesthetically pleasing and just take the time to wash them with a little more care. i am sure they would feel justified in charging a bit more but wouldn’t it be worth it. To be surrounded by a cloud of pale blue. So soothing and  calming. Or the palest of pinks. I just know I would have lovely dreams if I were floating in a haven of pink all night. I can even feel the pink against my skin, against my cheeks and it feels sweeter than white. White is lovely but it just isn’t as soft as pink. And beds should by all means be soft.  It must be summer as the covers are all jumbled up on the bed. In winter, I get under the covers and curl up in a small sized ball and i don’t think I even move during the night. I try to stay as curled up as possible to keep all my body heat in a confined and well determined area. it wasn’t always so. When I was married there was nothing better then gluing myself to my husband’s side though a cold winter night. Mostly because he would want to sleep with a window open for the cool night air. Since he was always warm I had my own personal space heater to sleep with. i am quite sure having me stuck to every inch of his side only made him hotter which makes the open window make a lot more sense now.  Hmmm who knew. i wonder if it really was the cold or the fact that I never felt like i could get close enough to him. Maybe a little bit of both. many a night of our marriage was spent in a white hotel bed. not always together and not always alone. 



Friday, April 1, 2011

He made my brain bigger

Another journal entry that really resonated with me today. Need a little more oppositional interaction it seems......

I seem to be out of my element a little more often than not these days and I am finding myself interacting with some really interesting and challenging people. People with opposing viewpoints and opinions and lifestyles and I am finding it really stimulating. I feel like these people are making my brain bigger, expanding my point of view to understand others better. Forcing me to think in new and creative ways. Pushing me into a space of uncomfortable that I am unused to and while it makes me want to crawl out of my skin while it it transpiring, in the end I feel more alive for the exchange. Why do we tend to get so settled into our mundane? Why does busy seem to overrun our lives? Why are we accepting such surface interactions with text and email that we rarely have actual conversations with people anymore? Have we become so socially inept or conflict averse that we would rather have virtual relationships over real flesh and blood. I say no. At least for me. I want to have more real flesh and blood. I forgot how fun it was. I forgot how scary it was. I forgot how much living it was.

My Love Letter to Savannah-2007

Dear Savannah
      How is it possible that I can love you and not so much have seen your face? Oh I have read about you in countless books. I have searched you out on the internet and I have devoured the pages of Savannah Magazine but I have yet to actually meet you face to face. I can’t even remember when this love affair began. Sadly i was oblivious to your beauty growing up in North Florida. I was so blinded by bright lights of big cities that I couldn’t see the gems in my own back yard. It is only with age and experience that one can come to appreciate a kinder, gentler way of life. So here I sit in Southern California trying to find a way back to the South I love. I wonder if you will be all I have made you out to be? Am I just creating a fantasy in my head? I have planned trips to visit you year after year and yet none of them have come to pass. The first was at a crossroads in my life when I just wanted to run away for a weekend. I wanted to sit on a front porch and sip mint juleps as I waved to passersby. I ended up in Atlanta. Almost as far from Savannah as my home in California is. The next year I found myself in Athens for a wedding. How could I have come all the way from California to Georgia and not have jumped in the car for a rendezvous? I ask myself that very same question time and time again. i still can’t come up with a suitable answer. The next year it was a trip to Charleston for a wedding. Sadly weekend weddings do not leave much free time for road trips. The  following year it was research for a wedding, my own. I was discussing marriage with a man from California and neither one of us wanted to get married here. Well Savannah was the next logical choice as far as I was concerned. I could just see us saying our vows amidst the fountains of Forsyth Park.  I had it all planned out in my head and my heart. He didn’t agree and I didn’t agree to marry him. Some things speak volumes about a man and a woman. The next year was another trip to Charleston. This time for a Labor Day family get together. It was a lovely September day that I sat in my mother’s jeep and wrestled with myself about the 83 miles to my beloved. “It’s a small and windy road” my mother said. “It will take you  couple hours each way” she said. “Don’t you want to stay and hang with us at the beach” she said. Ugh why do Southern girls always listen to their mothers even when they don’t want to? Again my road trip was thwarted and  so my love affair has continued only in my head. I dream daily of sweet tea and Southern Gentlemen as I sit in rush hour traffic in Southern California.  Oh how I can’t wait to one day strolling the tree lined streets and squares of the city i so look forward to meeting one day.  Until then I will wait patiently for my copy of Savannah Magazine in the mail each month and I will no doubt continue to peruse the real estate offerings online. 

Listing

Ok this is kind of funny. I was perusing my old MacJournal that I have basically abandoned in all manner of speaking. Sadly because I always find it a lovely place to put my thoughts to the page if you will. I ran across an entry from March 5, 2007. It looks like this.


I am .......

Reading..........oh gosh nothing regularly
Writing........my fab new journal
Drinking.......kegs of No Fear and no alcohol
Wishing........For a really cute and nice Christian boy...I mean man
Driving..........away from the wreck of the day (love that song)
Eating.......my new self challenge eating plan
Watching......oh yeah my favorite the weather channel
Wanting......to take a road trip
Shooting.....children in Mexico
Stripping......no silly............. my cabinets
Buying........sunscreen, birthday cards, stamps, chairs for the patio
Listening to......Anna Nalick, JT, the Fish



Funny how some things change and some things STAY THE SAME!. SO let's list today and compare shall we.

I am.....

Reading.......Dorothea Lange Bio
Writing........Morning Pages
Drinking.......Kegs of Sambazon and no alcohol
Wishing......For a really cute and nice Christian boy....I mean man.
Driving..........Oh how I miss driving my Beamer
Eating.......My new Self challenge eating plan. (HA see what I mean)
Watching.......Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Valley of the Dolls, Hot in Cleveland
Wanting.....to go lie on the beach in Destin
Shooting.......Eye wear
Buying........a new journal for morning pages. I am quickly filling up the first one.
Listening to........Vanessa Carlton, Tori Amos, the raindrops on my window

Nice little check in. I should do that more often.

Friday Favorites

It's Friday Kids! You know what that means. 5 things I am loving right now. Here we go

1. My CAt! He is such a love bug snuggle monster. I know I run the risk of becoming the crazy cat lady with this post but let me tell you it's nice to have a living breathing creature around in the meantime if you know what I mean.



2. Self Magazine! I am getting geared up for all things spring and summer with new workouts, new recipes and a whole lot of motivation thanks to Self!




3. Vintage Films. It's been a wet, cold couple days here in the NYC. Perfect weather for a spot of tea and some classic films.


Cat on a Hot Tin Roof Screen Still


Valley of the Dolls Movie Poster

4. Morning Pages. I started reading The Artist's Way a few weeks ago and have been diligently showing up at the page every morning. 


5, Umbrellas! I have a feeling I am going to have a whole wardrobe of those now that I actually live in a city with weather. 


Photo courtesy of OhBrooke! Blog

April 1, 2011

Oh March, how I let you down. Hardly blogging at all, not giving you the attention you deserve. :) But I do have lots to share so get ready! Ok first up, Quilts Galore! I saw a post on Martha Stewart's blog about a quilt show up at the Armory on Park Avenue. I have always loved quilts as my great grandmother used to make them and now my step mom, Mama J has become quite the quilter. She made me one a few years ago and she let me pick out the fabric and pattern. It is ridiculous. I love it so much. I picked the Drunkard's Path for 2 very personal reasons. The most important being that it's Dutch, as am I. The other let's suffice it to say there were a few tough years in my past. But out of trial usually comes strength and  beauty and I have something beautiful to curl up with on a cold New York night. Take a look.




I won't do the description of the show justice so you should go here and read all about it. But take a look at the pictures because this place was stunning!