Brave New Word

Joanna posted a list of the words that editor Kurt Anderson wanted to keep out of New York Magazine. It made me smile to see words like "eatery" and "flicks" that writers use to avoid the repeating themselves. (I am so guilty of that!)

I know we've all spent time trying, trying, trying to find replacements for blog-land cliches like of "lovely" and "lusting". So, here are a few new girly words that I learned this week from Word of the Day.

Now those strands of Tiffany jewels won't just "gorgeous", they will be clinquant. (... right, Newt Gingrich?)

p.s. if you are a word collector, you will love Cori Kindred's Rock Collection art pieces.  

This one featuring heartache, piano strings, and chrysalis is my favorite.

[(1, 2, and 3) Freehand script stick and ink, with Higgin's black]

Dave Eggers | On the End of the World

"And we will be ready, at the end of every day we will be ready, will not say no to anything, will try to stay awake while everyone is sleeping, will not sleep, will breathe deeply all the time, breathe in the air full of glass and nails and blood, will breathe it and drink it, so rich, so when it comes we will not be angry, we will be content, tired enough to go, gratefully, will shake hands with everyone, bye, bye, and then pack a bag, some snacks, and go to the volcano..."

Dave Eggers, A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius

A Brazilian Girl's Guide to Adventure

Hi readers,

Once, when I was talking to my friend Fernanda about the book Eat. Pray. Love, she recommended a travel book that was more "her style" ... it was called Getting Stoned With Savages. I smile every time I see that book on my shelf. While I worry about love, Fernanda seeks the realest experiences possible. At 24, she has enough of them to fill a book of her own.

Today, she is going to share with us her thoughts on Adventure. The way she lives is a reminder to me that a big life is waiting out there for all of us - we just have to be brave enough to seek it.

"To have an adventure means doing something, anything, that makes your heart contract faster, tighter, harder, and longer. When that thump thump thump is all you hear – you’re on an adventure.

The biggest adventure I've ever had is getting a traditional Buddhist tattoo in Thailand and it took me a 20 minute cab ride in Bangkok to decide to do it.

Let me begin by using the most cliché statement I can possibly come up with - The pain I felt is hard to put into words. A monk was chiseling into my ribcage. Men I had only met a couple hours ago were surrounding me, holding every part of my body to keep my skin taught. They bent their heads to my ear every few seconds, whispering words of encouragement.

While I was half way through the tattoo I blurted in a gasp, “This is the most pain I have ever felt.” The man I was basically lying on then said (and this is word for word because my friends filmed the entire thing) “I believe you. This hurts so much more than a regular tattoo because this is a lot slower process of the needle going into the skin which means there is time for the blood to rush up and gives more time for the pain receptors to react.” Not exactly what I wanted to hear, right? But, in a strange way it gave me comfort.

It only took 14 minutes 52 seconds from the first time the needle entered my ribs to the last time it came out of my ribs. 14 minutes 52 seconds is not a lot of time. Most of my other tattoos have taken over two hours. But it was the t ... i ... m ... e it took for this one, the slowness of it all, that allowed me to have an out of body experience.

In the last few minutes the monk started saying “no pain, no pain,” and the pain just melted off my body. I stopped sweating, my toes were no longer curled in a state of terror. I was melting into this cozy, warm, safe place; my body went through the threshold. I had heard about this, but never experienced it. Going through that made those 14 minutes and 52 seconds the most intense, joyous moments of my life. I went through the threshold of pain, and I kept going with a big smile on my face.

That’s why this tattoo was my biggest adventure. Nothing I have done to date has ever been that visceral.

If you're scared to do something big, use that energy and get on top of it - ride it all the way to what ever is waiting for you. When you get there, hop off, shake yourself loose and smile big. You fucking did it ... now what's next?"

[ Fernanda Camargo is a native of Sao Paulo, Brasil and has lived in Switzerland, Miami, North Carolina and San Diego. She is currently an EMT in the East Bay of California. All she needs to call a place home is something to sleep on, snacks available for whenever she gets hungry (which is every 90 minutes) and the compass her mom gave her on her 18th birthday. For Fernanda's next adventure, she wants to join a sail crew and bounce around the South Pacific for a few months. ]

p.s. This goes without saying - but, please don't get any d.i.y ideas involving a sharpened knitting needle and some India Ink. While home-made tattoos will get your heart racing, it could also give you a blood born illness. 

 p.p.s. This is the second feature in the Girl's Guide serires. The first was 'A Navy Girl's Guide to Goal Setting'.

been there | Urban Light at LACMA

One of my close friends from college interns at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. Can you believe this is where he goes to work everyday? The entrance features the installation Urban Light by Chris Burden, which is made up of two-hundred and two vintage street lights from around the city.

Of course I brought my camera along, like a true tourist. But, for him it was just another day at the office.

(photos) Urban Light at LACMA. On film with pentax k1000. These photos are the first time I've ever been brave enough to shoot at a shutterspeed of 1/1000th of a second. So crisp, so much contrast! (p.s) More at Urban Light on my flickr

Style Inspired : Portland in the Spring

Spring - the whole bird's chirping and flowers blooming thing - is a little different here in Portland. You can walk around and marvel at the blossoming beauty of it all, but it's from under an umbrella. Wet jeans could kill my joy in almost anything.

But, May has a way of giving us a few beautiful days where ....

... we fall in love again with what we have here.

 'I'm so happy we both showed up here' Oregon shaped print (which hangs in my apartment), from Lark Press

... we banish the gray and bring the color indoors.

turquoise tinted Ball Mason Jar and Daffodils

... we wear cloths that are (still) seasonally inappropriate, just because the sun is out.

floral print Tucker for Target t-shirt sun dress

...  we remember to appreciate the city we live in - and the writer's, artists, and designers -we share it with.

Miranda July's short story collection No One Belongs Here More Than You (She's a Portland girl)

... we try to soak up every moment.

Diana F+ camera

(p.s.) I loved this post from another Portland girl, Andrea (of Hula Seventy), about the way we try to hold on to everyday experiences. I think it's a spring thing.

Danielle Steel | On A Writer's Life

"Writing is a solitary endeavor, but not a lonely one. When you write, your world is populated by the characters you invent and you feel those people filling your lives"

Danielle Steel, author of 97 books. The Wall Street Journal May 7-8, 2011.

[ (1) digital snapshot of me and my bedroom. Not lonely .. but alone (except for the company of Cleopatra) ]

A {frolic} Flower Class

I recently had the pleasure of attending Chelsea's first official {frolic!} flower class. 

She taught us how to make a 'french bouquet'; which we learned means the steams are tight and crossed and the overall shape is rounded. (Although, you could probably sell me anything with 'french' in the title. See me, buying the can of french cut greenbeans at the grocery store)

Chelsea was a fantastic teacher; sharing with us the history of the 'nose-gay' and encouraging all of our individual styles. The combination of her past life as a flower shop owner, and current career as a prop stylist make her a real pro!

I used shocking pink ranunculus, purple lilacs and white freesias, which smelled absolutely heavenly. Chelsea also suggested we use greenery in our bouquet, which I had never really though of. It gave them shape, and made them looked fuller and more finished at the end.

And, it was an added plus that the class was full of fun ladies like Lauren (of The Little Things We Do), Laura (a letter designer) and Jenn (an event planner at Bowtie and Bustle)

 It was such a great, girly morning and I had a beautiful bouquet to bring home to wish my sister good luck on her marthon. I always get a little sad when it's time to toss them - but as Chelsea pointed out ...

"That's the beauty of flowers. They aren't permanent. They're fleeting"

You can read more about the class from Lauren and Jenn and professor Chelsea, herself ( ... where you can also see a picture of me, my bouquet, and a very bad hairday).  

 

and there are more of  film pictures of the {frolic!} flower class at my flickr.

 

(p.s.) If this sounds like something you'd like to do, she'll be teaching another flower class at Summer School Portland!

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* as many of you know, blogger (the publisher I use) was being a real butt-head and, because of a glitch, removed many recent posts from around blog-land. Luckily, this post wasn't gone for good - but some of the comments are. I promise I didn't delete them. I love every word you write to me.

Me and Mary Oliver | On Finding Time

"That's when I began to get up early in the morning - so I could write for a couple of hours and then give my employer my very best second-rate energy" Mary Oliver

My goal this week is to wake up earlier. With my new nine-to-fiver, I just haven't had much time to feel refreshed and creative. Mornings used to be my time, and then I'd go to work at the restaurant in the evenings, during my less productive hours. Now, I exhaust myself at work (to the benefit of my employers), come home, and sit on my bed and become a vegetable. And, I don't mean I become loaded with vitamins - think more like wilty, soggy, cauliflower (does anyone actually like cauliflower? It doesn't count if you like 'cauliflower au gratin', because anything is good covered in cheese.)

Anyway ... hopefully that will mean I have a few more things to share with you. And, maybe washing my hair more than once every five days. I hope you all find an extra hour this week too. If you think it's impossible, try looking in your coat pockets. That's where my favorite lipstick is always hiding.

(photo) a generic coffee cup photo from a breakfast at Gravy with Eli 

(p.s)  Thanks so much for your kind words yesterday. Writing something sad on a holiday makes me feel like a total downer, and I'm always nervous when it comes to sharing my less sunny feelings. But, something inside me always says it's important to be honest - if it's just for that one day a year.

Like Mother Like Daughter

I am 5-feet-6-inches tall. It's marked on the yard stick in the hallway. You can see, before it, my sister and I at 3 ft and 4-feet-11-inches. We measured our height and it changed every year. But, all the while, when we were growing up, the line titled "Mom" stayed the same. It's marked at 5-feet-6-inches. Then her bones began to shrink and she left us, inch by inch, until she was gone.  I wonder what it would be like to stand face to face, without looking up. I honestly can't imagine it; now that I'm 5-feet-6-inches.

Even without her here, I am slowly becoming her. 

In my own small way, I am bringing her back.

(photos) my mom, my sister, and I on the ferry from San Francisco to Sausalito in 1999 + my sister and I, again on our way to Sausalito in 2009 | another shared moment between our two lives
(p.s) on mothers & loss | my Mom's playlist

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Judith Thurman | On the Point

"I once heard of an East African farmer who, in the 1920s, traded his vast flax plantation for a much smaller plot devoted to damask roses. He liked the notion of being able to transport an entire harvest to Paris in a suitcase, attar being worth more, per gram, than cocaine.


I like that notion myself. Every writer's ambition is to distill the truth irreducibly from a thorny subject."

Judith Thurman, in her essay collection Cleopatra's Nose : 39 Varieties of Desire

[ (1) The Meadow on Mississippi Ave, on Valentine's Day morning. On film, with my pentax k1000 (p.s.) another great line from Judith Thurman | On Gumption ]

I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning

When they're matching up potential college roommates the most important answer on the questionnaire isn't about how loud you like your music. It's isn't even about how tidy you are (I think everyone secretly believes that their roommate never does the effing dishes).

They want to know - are you an early bird or a night owl?

Maybe the answer is so important because everyone is a little grouchy when they are woken up; whether it's by a beer-pong game or a hairdryer. But, I think it's more than that. It says a lot about a person - about what they value, and how they work. 

Night owls are passionate and adventurous. Their best hours are split between having a beer and being bent over a mood-board. Most of the artistic people I've interned with have been late-nighters. They thrive on that moment when all that's they have seen in a day comes together and - pop - becomes something new. 

I admire that. I envy it. I've even experienced the flash of inspiration that the quiet darkness can coax out.

But I am, unwaveringly, a morning person. 

I can't help but wonder: what does it say about someone when they are chipper at the crack of dawn?

 I guess, it says that I'm hopeful. Mornings are a new beginning, full of potential. 

Perhaps this will be the day where I do it all right. Where I pay my bills on time - no, early! - and I say the witty thing that makes everyone laugh at my staff meeting. Where I cook an unburned dinner for my boyfriend and listen to my voice mail.

Of course, it never happens like that. And by the end of the day, I can't ignore of all those little things that actually feel like big things. They stack so high that all I can do is call it quits, and be thankful that, even on the worst days, my blunders don't follow me into tomorrow. And inspiration? That is out of the question.

It's only in the morning that I am able to sit down infront of a blank sheet of paper. Because writing takes the confidence I only have before I'm reminded that I'm really just a ding-bat who mailed a letter, that was already late, without a stamp.

It's less than healthy - this perfect standard. I know.

But I think I'll always be a morning person; even when the blessed day comes that I finally, like my dad suggests, stop letting things get to me.

The morning is full of simple joys like watching cream disappear into coffee and phone calls to friends who are far away. For now, they are what fortify me against the day's inevitable failures. That ... and knowing I can always begin again tomorrow.

are you up all night? or do you thrive when it's light?

(1) on film with my pentax k1000 at Intelligentsia Coffee in Silverlake, Los Angeles.I don't know that boy in the picture. (title allusion) Bright Eye's album title. (p.s.) I pulled the word 'blunders' from this quote from Emerson | On Tomorrow

Charlie Kaufman | On the Writing Process

"To begin... To begin... How to start? I'm hungry. I should get coffee. Coffee would help me think. Maybe I should write something first, then reward myself with coffee. Coffee and a muffin. Okay, so I need to establish the themes. Maybe a banana-nut. That's a good muffin."

--

* Have you ever seen the movie Adaptation? It's kind of old, but I recommend it if you have ever struggled with writer's block. Charlie Kaufman wrote the movie, which stars two semi-autobiographical characters : Charlie Kaufman (played by Nicholas Cage) and his 'twin brother' Donald Kaufman (also played by Nicholas Cage). 

In real life, Donald doesn't actually exist. These two characters are 1. an embodiment of the person that others see and 2. the one he secretly believes he is  -  academy award nominated screenwriter Charlie (part of the movie even takes place on the Being John Malkovich set) and Donald, who is a total buffoon.  He has done nothing with his life and decides, on a whim, to write a screenplay. But he is a simpler Charlie, one who isn't plagued by self loathing.

It is Donald's naivety that protects him from the doubt that cripples Charlie. It's his fear of writing something bad, of being Donald, that keeps him from writing at all. While Donald's thriller screen play, which is loaded with cliches, is completed and picked up ... Charlie has written nothing.

Its an interesting statement, not just about the artistic standards of Hollywood, but about how the search for something great has a futile way of destroying every start.