Preview.

I have to get ready for class but I finally managed to get those purchase pictures on my computer (that's another idiot story for you all) so when I get home tonight I will post all the pictures, some descriptions, and perhaps some of my musings on life.

Coral Shorts!

One of the legs on the shorts is about 2 inches longer than the other but you know what, I don't care. And you don't either, which is so awesome.

Sheesh.

I have such silliness to report. So I fiiiinally got around to photographing the coral shorts and the other recent purchases I made last week by borrowing roomie's camera. Before borrowing, I asked her if it had a USB chord for it. Nope, just the memory card. I just assumed (and you know what they say about assuming...*) that that meant her computer has a built in card reader and that I could then just use a flash drive to transfer the pictures from her laptop to mine. False false false. But I didn't know all of this until after the pictures were taken. And my computer also does not contain a card reader. SO. This is all to say that A) I am an idiot and B) I still don't have any pictures for you. My other roommate happens to be equipped with an up-to-date macbook with-you guessed it-a card reader. I will either pester her for her computer before the week is up, or I will take the memory card with me on my short jaunt home this weekend. I am going home because Chelsea is on her spring break and we have one magical night together. We're planning on crafting! So far we have a lot of ambitious plans and not enough time to complete them all. But the one that I really want to make is one that I've had on my list for almost a year now.

Bam. Look at those beauties. The problem is, you're supposed to let them dry for 48 hours. So I'm thinking I'm gonna have to rethink my craft choice. Tis a shame. However, I do have all the materials for it and it is one of the easiest things I've seen to make. So if not this weekend, then hopefully sometime soon. You can find the full tutorial here. 

Once I figure out what I'm really going to be making on Saturday, I'll let you know.

In other news, I'm going to the florists tomorrow to discuss sister's wedding flowers! I'll just be getting estimates and asking general questions, and I'm gonna call first to make sure that they welcome walk-ins like this. But either way I am beyond excited. Then on Thursday I'm making a trip to the Mission to visit an excellent discount fabric store to get the last of the color swatches for her wedding colors. We did, in fact, make that trip to Britex on Saturday afternoon. I'm not sure if I've mentioned already that Britex is high end. I mean the gourmet of fabric. A half-yard of a particular fabric that sister was keen on cost $50. A half-yard! That's insane! Needless to say we did not purchase it. But we did manage to find some foundation colors and hopefully my second trip to the fabric store will round off the full color palette. I am also crazy excited for this. First of all, I love fabric stores. I always have. Second of all, it's cheap there. I mean I don't have a huge amount of experience with fabrics and how much they cost, but I know a cheap price when I see one. Third of all, with our apartment revamping we're planning on using fabric wall hangings to fill the large, empty spaces on our walls. It's a cheaper method for those of you on a budget, and they're much more lightweight. At the moment we have a large frame for the fabric to be stretched over, but no fabric to be stretched. I'm hoping to find something suitable while I'm in there and I'm pretty confident that I will. Oh and fourth of all, I love the neighborhood and plan on getting some coffee while I'm there. Perhaps I'll go early and get breakfast, you just never know with Thursdays.

On a final note, this spring forward business is really throwing me for a loop. Apparently it's 12:46 right now. It's supposed to be 11:46. I am not pleased. I like that it's lighter longer, but I do not like that I wake up "an hour early" now, as my body clock has yet to adjust to this lunacy. But I am a slave to my alarm and right now it's telling me that I have to wake up in 6 hours.  So for now, toodles, and I am sorry again for my photo failures!

-LK

*It makes an ass out of you and me. If you didn't know what I meant, get with it.

Not So Spry.

I have a story for you all. A story about the realities of aging. Growing old. Drying up. Losing the elasticity of your once resilient 7 year old self. It all started last weekend with our first soccer game. Roomie and I walked on to the field through a curtain of theatrical smoke. Slow motion, of course. The whistle blew and for the next 90 minutes we were the stuff of legends. Epic tales will be told about that game. Granted, we were sore after, but that's to be expected after 3 years off the field. Fast forward to yesterday morning. It was an hour before we were scheduled to leave our apartment, Where The Wild Things Are played in the background, and roomie and I did some half assed stretches on the floor. "I don't know roomie, I'm still a little tight in the hammies". "Don't worry girl. Once you start running it'll loosen up and you'll be good as new". I took her word for it, the smug know-it-all. Loosen up my tuchus. We're in position to kick some more ass, the whistle blows, I move to get open for a pass and- oh what was that? The discordant sound of a ripping groin? Within 5 minutes roomie is limping off the field with wrecked quads, and I'm just a few minutes behind her with zero range of motion in my hips, knees, ankles, and feet. For the remainder of the game we languished on the sideline nursing our wounds and contemplating our lost youth. What happened to our 12 year old metabolism? What happened to our young, pliable muscles that would extend, contract, and heal without a single complaint? I might as well buy myself a LaZBoy while I still have my mobility. One with built in speakers and cup holders. Better yet, a LaZBoy with wheels and a basket on the front for my grocery shopping and my lap dog. It has come to this, folks. Until I have time to go pick out my custom  chair, I'll be stretching for an hour every day.

All kidding aside, this really is a surreal experience for me. I keep thinking back to middle school when my best friend and I would make frequent trips to Safeway and stock up on junk food for our long summer weekends. And I vividly remember being aware of the fact that those days were fleeting; that someday our bodies would stop being so forgiving, and would demand better from us.  It's always a trip for me to come up on these moments that I've been anticipating and recognize them now as they were a decade ago. They act as markers between milestones; the minutes between the hours; the beginning of each new stage. This officially marks the beginning of a new stage, where I need to be saying "thank you" to my body and giving it the tools it needs to continue supporting me. On that note, mom, I'm about to go eat some chewable chocolate calcium supplements and drink 8 glasses of water while walking laps around my apartment.

Here's to the weekend and hoping it was everything your little heart desired.

-LG

Winning.

I finished the shorts. I finished the coral shorts. I'm not even excited that I have a new pair of pretty, springy, poofy shorts. I'm excited that I actually finished them! To be photographed tomorrow before I leave for work. I'm covering for a coworker for a few hours and then out to dinner for roomie's boyfriend's birthday dinner! We're going out for BBQ in the Haight and then coming back to our place to continue the celebrations. Along with the shorts I'll share pictures of my most recent purchases. A new pair of tapered black trousers, a cropped floral top, and a puff sleeved shift dress. All on sale. I'm a boss.

Meanwhile, sister dearest has asked me to hunt down florists for her wedding. Let me just gush for a second about how happy this kind of task makes me. I immediately jump into research mode, not only trying to find florists in the area that she'll be married, but looking for arrangement styles based on what she likes, flowers, colors, etc. I've got to get estimates, negotiate, collaborate, come up with alternatives...I am in my element, folks. So far I've found a florist that is based out of San Francisco AND out of Secret Wedding Location. I'm not sure if it needs to be a secret but I just decided it does. It adds intrigue. Anyway, how perfect is that! I can physically go in and discuss the flowers with them. I probably will Tuesday. Their storefront is on my way to an errand I have to run and I am PUMPED! And Saturday after my game she's coming in to the city so that we can make a trip to Britex, a successful one this time, and start narrowing down her colors. Then on Sunday I'm taking roomie to Ambiance. That's right, I'm popping her Ambiance cherry. You all probably think I'm getting paid for all this advertising but I'm not. I just like it there that much. I'm not sure which one we'll go to. I've been to the one in Haight already, and I live in the one on Union. So I'm thinking I'll have us adventure over to Noe Valley so that it's an experience for all of us. I'm so glad the weekend is here. It's panning out to be a good one, folks.

-LG

The Hours.

"At this moment there are infinite possibilities, whole hours ahead. Her mind hums. This morning she may penetrate the obfuscation, the clogged pipes, to reach the gold. She can feel it inside her, and all but indescribably second self, or rather a parallel, purer self. If she were religious, she would call it the soul. It is more than the sum of her intellect and her emotions, more than the sum of her experiences, though it runs like veins of brilliant metal through all three. It is an inner faculty that recognizes the animating mysteries of the world because it is made of the same substance, and when she is very fortunate she is able to write directly through that faculty. Writing in that state is the most profound satisfaction she knows, but her access to it comes and goes without warning. She may pick up her pen and follow it with her hand as it moves across the paper; she may pick up her pen and find that she's merely herself, a woman in a housecoat holding a pen, afraid and uncertain, only mildly competent, with no idea about where to begin or what to write". 

That is an excerpt from "The Hours", the novel by Michael Cunningham. I've read it once before and I'm reading it again, this time picking up on what I missed the last time. I love reading books more than once. They will always mean something to me, and always something different and new each time I read it. There are always elements that slip under our radar until maybe the third or fourth time we read it, and we wonder how we didn't see it all along.

Back in February I talked about how I struggle to be consistent with my drawing, and how I happen upon a good sketch as though it were something I'd forgotten I'd lost but am delighted to find again. This paragraph from "The Hours" is an exact description of that experience. The first time I read the book, I wasn't in an artistic state of mind and I moved over this paragraph without a backward glance. But reading it again a few days ago, I was immediately struck by it.

Last night in class, I had one of those fleeting moments. At first there was resistance. I was drawing but I could feel myself pushing in an unnatural direction that makes a sound in my head like nails on a chalkboard. Then without warning the resistance dissolved. It felt like when you restlessly move about in bed and then suddenly you roll into the most comforting, enveloping position and fall peacefully off to sleep. The first thing I thought was "there you go". I managed to get one good sketch, a few poems, and part of some song lyrics out of it. The sketch is by no means brilliant. It's not genius or mind blowing. It's done on binder paper with some half hearted class notes off to the side. But these small moments of success are comforting to me. There's a distinct sense of despair when you know there are images and words inside of you that you're unable to do justice to at your own will. Being able to release even one picture, or one poem, leaves you feeling a little bit lighter. Even if it's just for the day.

-LG

Wrapped In Fog.

My mind is feeling very shrouded these days. My ability to focus on the day at hand is nonexistent, especially since I just looked at the classes that City College of San Francisco offers. In a nutshell, everything I want to learn during my year off with the exception of only a few things. I just went from excited to infuriatingly impatient! The weeks do go by quickly, however, as it as already Thursday and therefore the start of my weekend. I like how I say that. Weekend. As though my week is jam packed with being busy and tasks and classes and it's the weekend when I can finally relax. For the record my life looks nothing like that. With the exception of work and the occasional class (if I'm in the mood to go), my time is mostly spent day dreaming and waiting. I've spent a lot of my years waiting for something. I think my recent raging impatience comes from the knowledge that that something big is very near on the horizon. As for not being all that busy, I want to be busy! I can't wait for the day when the job that I love, that I've wanted for years (whatever that turns out to be) keeps me going for hours on end. When I'm doing something that I enjoy, something that keeps me stimulated, something that challenges me, I'm a work horse. I don't like long periods of doing nothing because it's harder to appreciate relaxation. It takes being back breakingly exhausted to really appreciate sleep. It takes periods of sadness to really appreciate happy moments. Likewise, it takes long periods of work to appreciate those moments of relaxation. And while the only thing I want right this moment is hot sun, waves, and nothing weighing my mind down, I know that after a few weeks of summer I'll be impatient to get back into the thick of things. That's how I've always been. Which is why I'm so excited to cram my days full of new, exciting activities come the end of summer. I'm preparing to leave the road I've been on for 19 years and explore the deer trails through the forest. It's scary and unlike anything I've ever done. That's how I know it's going to be amazing.

I have an outfit from Monday that went over quite well at work. A coworker even said "you look like a woman". I'm not sure what I look like otherwise, but I took it as a compliment. You won't believe me when I say this, but over the course of the last week my phone camera has gone from "unclear" to "completely blurry and speckled with large black spots". So I hope you enjoy these pictures. This may be more of an interpretive exercise. "What do you see in the picture?" "I see...shapes...is that an arm? No. Wait. Is that even a person?". It'll go something like that. Akin to looking at a sonogram.

Thrifted blazer. Thrifted sequin sweater. F21 necklace. Target jeggings. BCBGeneration boots. 

I've been wearing these boots to death. They're the easiest shoes I have, they go with a plethora of outfits and styles, I can wear them if it rains, they're comfortable, and I can wear them for long periods of time at work without my feet protesting. As for the fabulous sequin sweater, Monday was the first time I wore it casually. I usually dress it up. For my dads birthday two years ago I wore it with a pair of bright purple, thrifted suede heels. They came straight out of my future 80 year old self's closet. But I love making it a casual piece to an outfit. It's an accessory in and of itself. Before going to work I ended up switching the necklace for my big, black earrings since I wear an apron at work. Overall it was a good look and I'll for sure be repeating it. 

-LG

Jerry Uelsmann.

My preferred style of art is surrealism, and this includes photography. My favorite photographer to date is Jerry Uelsmann, who makes composite photographs. This was one of my favorite things experimenting with in the darkroom and I even had a success or two. Nothing compared to his work, obviously.

 

 

 

 

These photos make me want to get back into the darkroom so. Bad. I literally cannot wait to take photo again. The community college in my hometown was begging for photo students because there weren't enough to fill the class. I have no idea what that feels like. At State it's a fight to the death for classes, and the art classes are the first to fill. There's no way in hell I could get into one, especially as a Sophomore. I know what you're thinking, and the answer is no. Not even sexual favors can remedy this situation. I know what you're thinking, and the answer is yes. I've asked.

OH MY GOD JUST KIDDING I TOTALLY HAD YOU GOING THERE FOR A SECOND!

Anyway, if you didn't notice yourself already, basically all of these pictures include trees. I am quite enamored with trees, and good ol' Jerry does trees so very well. I can't pick a favorite. In each photograph he creates a world, all of which I would love to live in.  

-LG

In The Desert You Can Remember Your Name.

I want to go to the desert. I'm thirsty for it's heat and dryness, for it's vast expanses of emptiness. I'm not sure when I started thinking about it. It's been a few years, at least, and I haven't been able to get it out of my head ever since. I want to drive a car down the two lane roads and camp out under the stars at night. I want to see how far out I can walk before I feel the need to turn back, the way I swim out in the ocean. I want to make sounds that nobody else can hear.

I've said before that I'm a nostalgic person. I hold on to memories for fear that important things will go forgotten; worried that all my reasons will eventually disintegrate and all I'll be left with is behaviors. If at least one person remembers, then this hasn't all been for nothing. This isn't a recent development, or something that came about due to a pubescent longing for my childhood. I have always been this way. Collecting artifacts and moments as though in preparation for the excavations to come, someday when this is all underground. Things my sisters would cast off would be recovered by my eager fingers to be hidden away in secret corners. A miniature harmonica. A broken candle. The old notes between them and their friends passed in class and during lunch. I moved to this city in honor of all the other people who came here seeking something. I came for the gravitational pull that history has; a pull that could root me down. I came in search of all the years that have seen life spring up across the seven peaks of San Francisco. I came to remember. To be in amongst it. To lie at the intersection of hundreds of thousands of criss-crossing lives, criss-crossing breaths. To sit on the train and wonder where their children were, what they looked like when they were young, how long ago did they come here, what were they looking for. I go to second hand shops in search of the artifacts left behind, the ones that have lost their significance. They find it again with me. I remember. A vase that sat on a table. Silver that was polished once, and coveted by a child forbidden to touch it. A doll. I remember.

It's a heavy burden to be a scribe when your paper is your skin and your bones, when lead-laced ink seeps into your veins. And so I crave the desert. Where the traces of 'was' are carved into the rock, where the wind and water have written 'I was here'. I feel a kindred spirit in an empty landscape waiting to be filled, and tattooed by the elements it can't control. I don't know what I want there. Maybe to give it back. Lay down and let the earth take it, all the things that bleed from my skin. All the things that were never mine. A miniature harmonica. A broken candle. A note passed in secret.

-LG

Hello Gorgeous Pt 2.

Alice and Olivia ankle boots.
Image via The Glamourai.

I'm pretty sure I don't need to explain why it is these beauties are gracing my page with their presence. If it's not immediately apparent, then I don't know what to tell you. As far as The Glamourai goes, if you haven't checked her out already do it now. She's a definite inspiration of mine. She's a stylist, an interior designer, and a jewelry designer/maker. Sound familiar? It sounds a lot to me like something I would love to do. And on top of all that her personal style is amazing. 

In other news, it turns out we do in fact have an iron! What do you know! This just made my life that much easier. I checked my glue samples today and unfortunately the glue leaves the fabric looking wet and feeling quite stiff. But the coral pants (now shorts) are lined. So I'm thinking that instead of fully hemming them, I'll glue the lining and do a few hook stitches to secure the top fabric to the lining, then press it for a crisp edge. This should work, and if it doesn't, the mistakes won't be visible. 

As far as the gray trousers go, I still haven't decided what their fate will be. I love them as pants. Perhaps that's how they'll stay for now, until the wind blows me a new direction. If I can get my butt up out of this chair, perhaps I'll finish the shorts tonight. That is not lookin too likely, but a girl can dream.

-LG

Pop A Squat.

I know yesterday I said to expect a review from somewhere I've never been before, and I'm sorry to tell you that I can't deliver that to you. Not completely, anyway. You see, our original birthday plans included going to Britex to find fabric swatches for her wedding colors. It would seem, however, that nobody checked Britex's hours of operation. They're closed Sundays! This was discovered at 10:30 last night. Better late than...well, better late. Because Britex is downtown/in the financial district, I suggested that I find a different neighborhood for us to enjoy our lunch. While I love the financial district, it doesn't lend itself to quaint, charming ambiance. And as I've said before, ambiance is essential to the women in my family. Now the pressure was on to find the perfect place that could satisfy all 4 of us, 3 of whom are gluten intolerant. After cruising Yelp for hours (this is not even an exaggeration. I went to sleep at 3:30), I finally decided on Squat & Gobble on Chestnut street up in the Marina district. I've been to Squat & Gobble, but not this location so TECHNICALLY I didn't fail completely. Today's gray and rainy weather couldn't have detracted from Chestnut's charm if it wanted to, and this particular S&G is even better than the one in West Portal. As far as the food and prices go, it's the same. The food is delicious and the portions are large. I'm still unpleasantly full 5 hours later, if that gives you an idea. But the decor on Chestnut was much warmer, and it had a few long dining tables which I love. It's known for being a creperie, but they also have sandwiches, pastas, salads, omelettes, and other such breakfast foods. I ordered the South of the Border omelette, with jack cheese, black beans, salsa, sour cream, avocado, and I think tomato. It was delicious! Which is why I ate the whole thing and now I wanna pop. It came with a side of rosemary potatoes. Also delicious.

Neither of my sisters brought their cameras, so unfortunately this was the only photo documentation of the meal. I know. I suck at life. Anyway, there are multiple S&G locations throughout the city so look it up and go pop a squat! One of these days I'm gonna try a crepe. It's hard to believe that I've never had one even though I live in a city with a creperie on every corner. I would write more, I swear I would, but the mere thought of food is making me rather ill so I'll be ending this a little prematurely.

-LG