this target ad is seriously making my life right now. these little colorful people and alouette song (learned all the verses to that one in high school french class) are just beyond happy.
random fact: did you know that the popular children's alouette song is about plucking parts off of a lark? it's true. je te plumerais le tete, la plume, etc. means "i am going to pluck its head, its feathers..." kind of ruins that song for you, huh? not so cute and happy after all.
why is it that when you get out of a habit, it's much harder to get back in the swing of things? runway has been finished for two weeks now (best two weeks of the year so far) and i've so been looking forward to blogging again, but as it's no longer a part of my routine, i'm spending a lot of time thinking about my blog and not a lot of time actually blogging. with three major grant deadlines at work this week, however, i'm thankful that blogging is something that i can do when i'm in the mood and no one is forcing me to write when i don't feel like it. there are few things in life without rules and obligations and i'm glad that this is one of them.
in the meantime, above is a photo of my coffee table currently (the last surviving buds from my lovely runway bouquets), and i've made a new playlist, to which i've been listening pretty much nonstop. it's lazy and lovely as we wrap up these last few weeks of winter-with-an-identity-crisis. much more to come, including what i learned from co-chairing runway (a lot) and a few recent great deals. thanks for hanging in there with me!
p.s. in a random side note, the top book in this stack is one of my favorite possessions - it's a book of henry wadsworth longfellow poems from 1898. it's in surprising good condition considering its age and has a number of items stuffed in the pages (newspaper clippings, church bulletins, a funeral program for an infant) that are all dated between 1900 - 1910. i love thinking about who owned this book before me, what their life was like, and how the lovely words on its pages are still meaningful and timeless. while we're at it, the book below it is a 1950's unabridged version of victor hugo's les miserables (my favorite book) and the one below that is an old collection of cezanne's sketches and paintings. the final book isn't old, but is a stunning photography collection of france's lavender fields. all of these books came from the goodwill. go figure.
"the boy at the far end of the train car
kept looking behind him
as if her were afraid or expecting someone
and then she appeared in the glass door
of the forward car and he rose
and opened the door and let her in
and she entered the car carrying
a large black case
in the unmistakable shape of a cello.
she looked like an angel with a high forehead
and somber eyes and her hair
was tied up behind her neck with a black bow.
and because of all that,
he seemed a little awkward
in his happiness to see her,
whereas she was simply there,
perfectly existing as a creature
with a soft face who played the cello.
and the reason i am writing this
on the back of a manila envelope
now that they have left the train together
is to tell you that when she turned
to lift the large, delicate cello
onto the overhead rack,
i saw him looking up at her
and what she was doing
the way the eyes of saints are painted
when they are looking up at God
when he is doing something remarkable,
something that identifies him as God."
love, by billy collins
image via weheartit
but until february 11th, my life is consumed. quite frankly, i've never been more excited for something to end. nonetheless, the show should be super. come support dance theatre and all of our hard work please? see you then! (i'll likely be the haggard sweaty looking one among all the pretty people.)