seasons

I've been simply smitten with this recent edition to my book collection: Seasons, by the magical French illustrator Blexbolex, published in English by Enchanted Lion Books. I'd love to get my hands on more of his illustration work, especially this, and this!

"Blexbolex got lost for awhile in the pages of his books. He needs two summers, an autumn, a winter, a spring, several storms and a lot of sunshine to rediscover the seasons for himself."

-Seasons, Blexbolex

the objects

Selected objects from my desks at work & home, collected glass bottles at the OMCA, the beauty of brunch, and Alex Maldonado's Cathedral Crown.

Last weekend I had the pleasure of spending an afternoon with Mark Dion & Lawrence Weschler at the awe-inspiring Oakland Museum, as a part of Mr. Dion's new exhibition The Marvelous Museum*. The two dove deep into discussion on the role of the museum in today's digitally-driven society, and the (mis)conception of a museum as a very static, passive entity, stemming partially from an audience's inability to truly connect and be active with the objects in the collection. I was particularly struck by Mr Dion's explanation of his "artist as curator" role within the exhibition; his desire to get people to re-connect with the soulfulness of these objects, to rediscover the joy of drawing their own conclusions based on a newfound sense of discovery. Afterwards, I walked through the bustling galleries, and was absolutely captivated. This was a community that still marveled at the museum...

Yesterday I paused underneath a giant knobby tree, forgetting for a moment my errand as the end result. I reached out my hands, and allowed myself to be completely entranced by the object before me. I couldn't remember the last time I had actually experienced a tree. With today's proliferation of digital imagery and information, I sometimes struggle with the ability to truly engage in the present & concrete. We live in a world of constant movement, and distraction. Are we losing the ability to experience actuality, to appreciate the simplicity of the sensory? I find hope in the beauty of the bits that surround me, loyal characters in my own curated life.

"The objects are characters that live with us in time and place and scale."

-Mark Dion

*read more about The Marvelous Museum, (and the accompanying Chronicle Book!) here.

red

KA's enchanting ceiling, Mr. McGee at the Oakland Museum, an ever-growing collection of freshly-fallen mystery fruits (anyone?), Ms. Rojas at the MOCFA, and fantastic foggy morning vines.

"For this is what is means to get back what she once had, the deep-seeing use of her eyes and the instant revelations of her tongue..."

-Runaway, Alice Munro

girls and their hair

Special thanks to miss SK for the recent lifting-up: a hand-crafted leaflet sent through the post is a sure way to remind a girl to hold her head high.

"A girl with long hair is never alone/she always has something to play with."

figgy fun

Locally grown fresh figs are in abundance this time of year out here in (sorta) sunny San Francisco, and I can't get enough of these sweet little treats. Simply delightful served over thick yogurt with honey, they also serve as the perfect impetus to an afternoon of crafty play!

Eat more produce–locally! The Mobile Food Collective has it right. See more about this idea in (brilliant) action here and here.

worlds beyond

"If we have no connection whatosever with the worlds beyond the ones we take for granted, than we too run the risk of drying up inside..."

Lately, more than usual, I've been buried in books, in many more ways than one. Elif Shafek reminds me of the power of storytelling, of imagining the vast potentials of our hearts, and the beyond. Please enjoy if you have the moment!

taking hold

Miles of man-made hills surround me in this city, yet I tread the same few most of my days. The concrete below my feet often vanishes in a rhythm of routine, but then I remember to look! And when I do, I find: a wrinkled masterpiece blowing amongst discarded plastic bags, and a leaf with a brilliant identity crisis.

In an ongoing quest for hope and love and authenticity, I hold these things dear, pressed between the pages of a bedside book, rare treasures mined from the mundane...

"A collection is usually an attempt to somehow take hold of the world around us, to control at least a few of its parts..."

-Paul Elliman, The World As Printing Surface

upon re-visiting

There is a forest, mere blocks from my new doorstep, with a rich canopy of trees watching over winding grounds of lives gone by. The roots of these trees run deep in the soil here, in this place they call The Presidio––1,491 acres of hilly pathways and forests that served as a military base for 218 years before being determined a National Historic Landmark in 1994. It was here, way back in 1948, that my grandmother Marjorie Ruth Samson first met my grandfather Hal Schroeder. She, a young 2nd Lt. in the Army Nurse Corps, met he, a dashing Army officer, while reviving him from illness at the Letterman Army Hospital. The pair later eloped to Switzerland.

Upon re-visiting this forest, the breeze breathes gently amongst the trees, and I am embraced by the romance of this transformative landscape––gaining strength in my solitude, and the faint ancestral whispers of my past.

i have arrived

Car-window landscapes raced by in a blur of transcendent splendor, the days passed delirious, spellbound by constant motion.

And tonight, as the fog spins in like blue raspberry cotton candy, I look out my window and realize I have arrived; at home in a new city, in a world still full of wonder.

I long for all and everything to have depth and veracity and grace, after a week filled with packings, see you laters, and goodbyes. Please stay tuned...I'll be seeing you soon.