January 28, 2010

Photos that perfectly capture the atMosphere by BrigiTTe SiRe.

Pure genius! Some smart cookies at TwelVe SoutH came up with the BookBook. This perfect hardback leather case for the MacBook is designed to look like a vintage book and is available a Classic Black or Vibrant Red. I love it even thought i don’t have a MacBook

Living proof that I actually fancy a bit of folky country songs. Here’s Galway GIRL, a song I like VERY much, especially since watching & weeping over P.S. I love You.

A charming collection of all QUIRKY that comes with a child-like iNNocence mixed with a teaspoon of chEEkiness! My favourites at the moment are the ‘Oh-So-Fabulous & soon-to-be-available’ SchmOOks cocktail rings.


“Among other things, you’ll find that you’re not the 1st person who was ever confused and frightened and even sickened by HUMAN BEHAVIOUR. You’re by no means alone on that score, you’ll be excited and stimulated to know. Many, many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now. Happily, some of them kept RECORDS of their TROUBLES. You’ll learn from them – if you want to. Just as SOMEDAY, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you. It’s a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it isn’t education. It’s history. It’s POETRY.” — J.D. Salinger (The Catcher in the Rye)


January 21, 2010

ACHROMATICS baLLoon photo by Miss Lauren Treece.

This collection of memorable recipes at BitterSweet Memories. This (up-coming) book is dedicated to all those people who have lost their LOVED ONES. The idea is to use their ‘SIGNATURE DISHES’ as trigger to keep their MEMORY alive.

This is living PROOF that those awkward, angst-ridden HIGHSCHOOL DAYS pay off in the end. 2 high school friends who always dreamed of opening their own shop have joined FORCES & the result is the amazing REFORMSCHOOL.

An easy-breezy FEEL GOOD song like Stay Here Forever by jeWel.

Independent designer Shannon spends her days creating journals, stationery, fashion accessories and other crafty things for Rabbit & the Duck.

the WRITING life

January 20, 2010

“Why are we reading, if not in hope of BEAUTY laid bare, life heightened and its deepest mystery probed? Can the WRITER isolate and vivify all in EXPERIENCE that deeply engages our intellects and our HEARTs? Can the writer renew our HOPE for literary forms? Why are we reading if not in hope that the writer will magnify and dramatize our DAYS, will illuminate and inspire us with WISDOM,COURAGE, and the possibility of MEANINGfulness, and will press upon our minds the deepest MYSTERIES, so we may feel again their majesty and power? What do we ever know that is higher than that POWER which, from time to time, seizes our LIVES, and reveals us startlingly to ourselves as creatures set down here bewildered? We still and always want waking.” (Annie DiLLard, The Writing LIFE)


January 13, 2010

Eliot‘s stream of photos.

Thank god for KATIE MUTH & her PRINT collection. Whatever card you need, you’ll sure find it here, ranging from park animal cards to love cards that say lovely things like ‘I’m wearing your favourite panties.’

Meet Mimi, Molly, Daisy & Ginger, also knows as the SWEETIE PETITES DOLLS KITS. You can meet them amongst other unique one-off and limited edition art, hand crafted cards and Chalkboard Eggs by the very talented Miss Lisa Tilse.

A Lullaby like YOU BELONG TO ME by Carla Bruni.

Let me introduce you to the family: Ginny & Francis McMullen are one mother-daughter combo that works very well together & creates a whole lot of SWONDERFUL things.

Sun light’s bleeding through the window. Another failed attempt ‘to connect.’ Downcast eyes, tiptoeing around and morning caution – this is how many mornings start after a night well spent together. Yes, I am speaking from some experience here, not much though, just a little. I‘ve done it once or maybe twice – only to find out that for some reason the romance hadn’t keep up its initial promise of lasting happily-ever-after, failing to make it through the night. Come dawn, off went the romance.

This off-rail romance phenomenon (ORRP) leaves me wondering – why do so many chapters end like this? And why could we fall for someone late at night and then facing nothing but awkwardness, distance and embarrassment lying next to you the next morning? Are we night-blind or is our intuition blindfolded once the lights are out?

Whatever it is – the morning after is just BAD. Off-rail romance, tick. Bad breath, tick. Silence at the doorway, tick. There’s nothing left to say and this is definitely one of these rare moments where it’s better to leave it just like that. No ‘this will work out’ or ‘last night was great though…’. Within this situation your at your personal best when you say nothing at all. Shut up, gather your belongings together, tiptoe out the door and step out of that scene you do not want to have replayed ever again.

Let’s face it -things like this happen – you live, you learn. Trial and error situations are good – believe me, these valuable life lessons haven’t been in vain. After all, regrets are not worth having.

Anyway, whatever happened between you & the other night owl, make sure you don’t forget your keys, purse or anything else. Even though you felt that instant connection the night before, this doesn’t mean that the vibes will stretch on & develop into ‘something more.’ And there’s nothing worse than coming back to pick up a piece left behind, a reminder of a short night spent together and probably a morning wasted with thoughts about feelings that are only short-lived, romance that only lasts a little while and mornings like these wasted for nothing long-term.

Long live silent exits – icy-cold doorknob, monotonous ‘click’ as the door shuts, shaky step outside. The day smells rain-tinged and my vision refreshes with a wispy palette of reds and greens, colours I didn’t notice last night.


January 7, 2010

Captured SNAPS of life by Laina Briedis.

Lovely little things made by LUCIE that contain some sort of SATIRE as they are ‘feminine, yet masculine & cheeky.’

Short stories in JUST 6 WORDS a la HEMINGWAY.

Cat PoWer’s Crying, Waiting, Hoping for the one you LOST & much much MORE.

Would you like another PIECE OF CAKE? Tabitha Emma’s fun collection of tea party and cake inspired bags, purses & tea cozies are the most delightful solution for all those who gave in to the pressure of New Year’s RESOLUTIONS (and those who prefer daily LISTS) & want to lose some pounds.


January 6, 2010

“20 years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, SAIL AWAY from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” (Mark TwAin)

There’s something in the air around NYE that literally screams words like CHANGE, NEW LIFE and GOODBYE VICE. And so with all these New Year’s resolutions well on their way I started to think about my own guilty pleasures. As I do not smoke and only drink in moderation, the only vicious vice I found is cheeky cheap, comes in paper cups and gets called foreign names like Espresso, Latte and Cappuccino.

Yes, you guessed it right – my vicious vice is C-O-F-F-E-E. I tend to compare my addiction to that of a rocky long-term relationship with a fiery bad boy lover. We met in the dark corner of that edgy café around my high school in 2000. He (I assume all dark characters are male) had a dangerous reputation, and I’d often seen him pearling from the lips of the rebellious cool kids.

When my friend Nora offered to introduce me to him, I was apprehensive yet powerfully intrigued by his dark mystery. Weak against the gloomy grey shades of a fading Monday morning and too tired to object or resist, I held the steaming hot paper cup, fumbled in my pocket for the coins, and soon found my lips burning, and frantically engaged in a long hot kiss from heavenly hell. My fingertips burned. My lips sizzled. My head sang with merry-go-round dream liqueur. I was intoxicated with his s. He tasted dark and bittersweet. And he suited me well, adding that philosophical touch to my school girl innocence. His smooth taste drifted across my throat. His aroma was on my clothes, in my hair, inside my (pott)belly. It was there that I discovered the true meaning of love at first sip.

In the early days I had to hide our affair from Mum and Dad as ‘the one’ had the reputation of negatively affecting my health (think high blood pressure and high risk of heart attack). I would cradle my forbidden love on-the-go or in cafes my folks wouldn’t set foot in. There was something about his dark amour that would pick up the morning bluntness and afternoon blurriness of the world. One sip and the taste of his black gold would make the time-chaos stand still, allowing my sleepy morning/afternoon thoughts to get back on track and reconnect with the casualties around me.

Within the next couple of months, I realized that my sacred-secret lover boy was not mine alone. He was on the lips of other women, gossiping in cafes, lingering with drunks outside bars way after midnight and with barely dressed girls in the early hours of the morning, having a quickie on-the-go. He could be with me, strong and hot on my lips one moment, and cooling down like a cranky, moody lover the next. There were moments of complete indulgence, followed by phases of empty bitterness and a pale after taste with his temperature swings alluding to the fact that perhaps I needed him more than he would ever need me.

Over the years I would make several attempts to leave him. Cursing his effect on me as I jogged along the park, committed to regaining my natural strength and awakened state without his fierce, hot touch in the morning. At cafes and stations his mere smell would tempt me. Like a vicious ex, he would wait for me on the corner, dripping from the lips of his new lover. For almost 3 weeks I remained defiant, yet despite my small amount of inner strength, I was unable to resist the clever marketing campaigns of looming deadlines, late night shifts and afternoon writer’s block. Like a summer breeze he would sneak in and sense the aftermath of my emotional wars, breathing that inner woman to life with his dark golden poetry.

To this day our bi-polar union continues, swinging between joyous morning wake-up calls and daunting long afternoon fallouts. I know my co-dependency is pretty obvious and I also know that his love is a cheap vindictive poison that tricks my senses and leaves me anxious, jittery and wanting for more. I am highly aware that our on again/off again affair is causing me a lot of heart-ache, pain and torture. At the same time I know a split with him will be the hardest break-up ever. And I think I am not ready for it – at least not yet. Maybe in 2011. Until then, my only wish? To quit, and this time for good.