Thursday, July 29, 2010

Thursday! It can't be! It's too gruesome!

Darlings! Guess what I'm reading?
None other than Truman Capote's immortalized novella...
Haven't watched the movie in awhile... I'm waiting to see how different the book is. But I also find myself humming MoonRiver while I amble down Pearl Street. (Henry Mancini, you set the 60's to music...).

Holly: You know those days when you get the mean reds?
Paul: The mean reds? You mean like the blues?
Holly: No. The blues are because you're getting fat and maybe it's been raining too long; you're just sad, that's all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you're afraid and you don't know what you're afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling?
Paul: Sure.
Holly: Well, when I get it the only thing that does any good is to jump in a cab and go to Tiffany's. Calms me down right away. The quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there. If I could find a real-life place that'd make me feel like Tiffany's, then - then I'd buy some furniture and give the cat a name!
Holly: What do you do, anyway?
Paul: I'm a writer, I guess.
Holly: You guess? Don't you know?
Paul: OK, positive statement. Ringing affirmative. I'm a writer.
Holly: It's useful being top banana in the shock department.
Holly: I'll never get used to anything. Anybody that does, they might as well be dead.

Monday, July 26, 2010

My Saving Grace.

Everywhere I'm looking now
I'm surrounded by your embrace
Baby, I can feel your halo
You know you're my saving grace...

Today, I am thinking of some amazing people.
The ones that come to mind when I'm tired and scared,
and a little lonely.
They know who they are.
They know who I am...
Today, I'm playing this song on repeat, literally, over and over again.

Harper Blynn, formerly known as Pete & J.... About 4 years ago, I was told to drive to a little coffee shop on The Main Line outside Philadelphia. I was led, eager and willing, to a spot on a golden shore, where a wave of truly glorious music broke blissfully over me, drenching my mind in sheer fabulosity. Though their name has changed, and they added a few more parts rock to the music blend, the sweet sweet harmonies are the same, and the juxtaposition of smooth tones with gut-wrenching throaty belts is still there, tugging on my heart strings.

Last night, I stumbled across this video, posted and commented on by some darling lovelies of my past. Out of the inky blue night came a rush of memories, of moments, of the amazing people that populate my past. And it was my saving grace....

Hit me like a ray of sun
Burning through my darkest night
You're the only one that I want
Think I'm addicted to your light.

photo: Love found at

Wednesday, July 21, 2010


Alright, World. Let's have it.
En garde, Fate.
Hit me with your best shot.
Lately, I'm manifesting a lot of hope, a lot of effort,
a lot of rolling the dice,
And an impressive amount of
"pick yourself up, brush yourself off, and start all over again."

But I've got a secret.
The Wanderer is never lost, she's just looking for the next way to make her life stellar.
The single girl is not destined to be lonely when she is determined to be fabulous.
The artist never faces a dearth of words.
The Dreamer is never short on answers.
The Liberal Arts Major can make an analytical argument out of anything.
Whether or not my life is predestined, I still get to discover it every day.
And what a discovery it is.

photos: NvR Fail from ache.tumblr, bergdorfblonde.tumblr, Audrey Hepburn photo, Brokenmachine:TheOutlier:viaCowgirlblues, Fated to, Cover of book "Women Who Read Are Dangerous," girl from 500px by Capturedbylex.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Daydreaming Chasing.

One day, I'll have a Villa in Tuscany, something like the Italian version of Vicki Archer's life.
I've got a grand vision for a Great Room,
painted green,
with unfinished wood floors,
Italian-yard-sale-like treasures all around,
stacks and stacks of books,
an incongruent chandelier,
3-too-many comfortable throw pillows, a record player,
pieces of old barn wood repurposed into a mantlepiece, lined with old dusty bottles
(the homes of poppies
or sunflowers,
depending on what's blooming), and my grandmother's candlesticks, at least 2 mutts of questionable parentage but loving disposition,
and a sassy but still affectionate black cat... named Minerva.
photos: Balcony- BacaraatChristmas, The Window to Tuscany (2) by Klaus S., Untitled by Annie Lee, brilliant green room and dress by Corinne Day Photography, Untitled by Heidi from flickr, pink dress on brown wood from Just Like A Star by David Seidner, Green Foyer - Habitually Chic, Tory Birch at Home, woman on a chair in front of bookshelves from, Old Books from, chandelier room from, Record Player Picnic from fungusamungus22 on Xanga, Glass Bottles: Remove Labels Glass Bottles Jars from, Poppies- Morgens um 7 ist die Welt noch in Ornung...von Armin Keller, Sunflowers from, Pup- mixed breed dog phogographic print from, Deep Dark Eyed Cat, Books and stairs from

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Sometimes the world tries to knock it out of you.

But I believe in Music the way that some people believe in Fairy Tales.

August Rush... what a magical movie...
I've been sitting watching life pass from the sidelines.
Been waiting for a dream to seep in through my blinds.
I wonder what might happen if I left this all behind.
Would the wind be at my back?
Could I get you off my mind, this time?

Do you know what music is?
It's God's little reminder that there's something else, besides us,
in this Universe;
Harmonic connection between all living beings, everywhere...
even the stars....

Wizard - You know what's out there? A series of higher tones, arranged by nature, discovered by the laws of physics of the whole universe. It's an overtone, it's an energy, it's a wavelength, and if you're not riding it, good lordy, you'll never hear it.
August - Where do you think it comes from, what I hear?
Wizard - I think it comes from all around you really, I mean, it comes through us... -some of us. It's invisible, but you feel it.
August - So only some of us can hear it.
Wizard - Only some of us are listening.

When the one that you're looking for is nowhere to be found,
And you're backstepping all of your moves trying to figure it out.
You want to give out, You want to give in,
Your head's wrapped around what's around the next bend.
You wish you could find something warm 'cause you're shivering cold.
It's the first thing you see when you open your eyes,
The last thing you say as you're saying goodbye.
Well something inside you is crying and driving you on...
If you hadn't found me, I would have found you.
I would have found you...

You never quit on your music, no matter what happens.
'Cause any time something bad happens to you, it's the one place you can escape to and just let it go.... Nothing bad's gonna happen. You gotta have a little faith.
The music is all around us.
All you have to do is listen.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010


The sky is dark and cannot make up it's mind. To storm, or not to storm...
And I, inside, torpid from the incessant heat, have made my retreat.
To pages:
And music:

Wuthering Heights and Vivaldi and Samuel Barber...

Barrage of the Beautiful.

In no particular order:
I'm utterly out of sorts lately, dearlings. You'll have to make do with a visual montage of what's pretty and sitting on my desktop. Sometimes it's healthy to get a little lost in the pretty.

photos: NSFWorld Photography, Zooey Deschanel by Ellen von Unwerth, windydayssunnynights - fashionfever, VintageLove, The Cello- Study IV by Elisa Lazo de Valdez, baloons- rasurando257, dinnerpicnic5 from, The inimitable Marilyn Monroe, Vintage beach pic, a view of Amalfi Coast.