Good with Style

All This Happened, More or Less

Source: anneevamargriet.blogspot.com via Sara Kate on Pinterest

 

 

Like so many Americans, she was trying to construct a life that made sense from the things she found in gift shops. (Slaughterhouse-Five)

Happy Birthday, Mr. Vonnegut.

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An All Hallow's Eve Poem by Edgar Allan Poe

Source: cfabbridesigns.com via Toni on Pinterest

 

Things are starting to get a little spooky around here.

Alone

Edgar Allan Poe

From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were — I have not seen
As others saw — I could not bring
My passions from a common spring —
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow — I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone —
And all I lov’d — I lov’d alone —
Then — in my childhood — in the dawn
Of a most stormy life — was drawn
From ev’ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still —
From the torrent, or the fountain —
From the red cliff of the mountain —
From the sun that ’round me roll’d
In its autumn tint of gold —
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass’d me flying by —
From the thunder, and the storm —
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view —

The Secret of Being Colorful

Source: allsorts.typepad.com via Cheryl on Pinterest

The Cardinal is my totem bird. Every time I go through something difficult, I always seem to have a Cardinal appear, sometimes in multiples. Ten years ago, I experienced a broken engagement, and as I was packing up to move out of the house we had purchased together, there were the Cardinals, sitting right outside the window. My cousin sent me a link to this post "My Favorite Cardinal" on The Daily Heller. I also thought the poem "The Cardinal" is a good reminder to be your own colorful self. I wanted to share it with you. Have a wonderful, colorful weekend my lovely readers! XO Emily

 

The Cardinal

By Henry Carlile

Not to conform to any other color
is the secret of being colorful.

He shocks us when he flies
like a red verb over the snow.

He sifts through the blue evenings
to his roost.

He is turning purple.
Soon he'll be black.

In the bar's dark I think of him.
There are no cardinals here.

Only a woman in a red dress.

marie antoinette let them eat cake + shop the fleas

"Relax and Slip Your Pronouncing Eyes Like Cake..."

(Kirstin Dunst as Marie Antoinette)

Marie Antoinette is known for her love of cake, but did you know she is also famous for inventing the flea market? Well, sort of.

Legend has it that she was standing high above the place that would be known as Les Puces de Paris--The Paris Flea Market, looking down upon the crowd when she remarked "Oh but they look like little fleas." Or something like that.

 

Whether or not this really happened, one thing that is for certain true is the long and rich history of The Paris Flea Market, and all of its progeny.  

 

*This line of poetry is from:

A Domestic Film

by Amy King

 

This is the director’s cut,
a traveling space in the folded crook
of your plotted hand like silver night
on a thousand platters spreading westward,
then plywood. I watch the brittle flower spread,
almost mobile with her walking petal plans—

Feminine form to feminine prone,
relax and slip your pronouncing eyes
like cake, only softer and heated, across
the unmarried wife waving goodbye
to the silent screen world of strangers
safely baking on Dishwater Island.

 

the ripest peach is highest on the tree

We took a trip to Northwestern Connecticut this weekend. My family has a home in this little slice of heaven that is Litchfield County. I always leave rested and refreshed. And aren't I lucky to have such parents. I have not told you before, but I grew up with two people who can really cook. No, I mean, really cook. The meals they prepare are to die for. On our way home, we picked up some fresh peaches, which we had for breakfast this morning along with the homemade cornbread, and the blackberry preserves my father made. It’s as if we brought a little bit of country back to the city with us. I write a lot about the importance of really using your dining room for family meals. There's nothing more eco-chic, or sustainable, than preparing a meal from scratch, working side by side with your loved ones, and sitting down to enjoy the fruits of your labor, together. My most vibrant memories will always be sitting around the table with my family.

*If you'd like your own homemade blackberry preserves, try ordering them from the Loveless Cafe, Nashville, TN.

 
This morning I added a few new images to my Etsy Shop, as well as to my Flickr group "Eco Chic Home." I'm feeling full of energy, no doubt because of my restful, delectable time in the country. Simple pleasures can always be relied upon to do their job.
 

 

Oh Tiger Woods Why?

As we experience yet another moment of celebrity schadenfreude, has anyone considered the possibility that Tiger Woods is suffering from an addiction? I refuse to believe that someone in their right mind would behave the way he has. Maybe I'm naive, a hopeless optimist. A pollyanna.

If design govern in a thing so small*

  
(photo & styling: Kendra and Seth Smoot)

Practically everything I design is derived from everyday materials. 

Newspaper, cardboard, glass. I especially like working with 

wire hangers, I think it's because I love fil de fer so much.

It is surprisingly simple to work with a deconstructed wire 

hanger, all you need is a good wire cutter and some medium size 

pliers. I made the compote above with two wire hangers and a bit

of fine gauge copper wire. You can see the detailed

instructions when the book is released. 

In the meantime, feast your eyes on these fantastic wire 

creations by Marie Christophe. 

*This line of poetry is from:

Design

by Robert Frost

I found a dimpled spider, fat and white,

On a white heal-all, holding up a moth
Like a white piece of rigid satin cloth --
Assorted characters of death and blight
Mixed ready to begin the morning right,
Like the ingredients of a witches' broth --
A snow-drop spider, a flower like a froth,
And dead wings carried like a paper kite.

What had that flower to do with being white,
The wayside blue and innocent heal-all?
What brought the kindred spider to that height,
Then steered the white moth thither in the night?
What but design of darkness to appall?--
If design govern in a thing so small.

Huh? You say it's mine? Oh, dear, I knew it looked familiar*

Not my office but I do wish I had such a serene space in which to work. I would lay my books, fabrics, papers on that lovely floor while I sat in the pleasant glow from the amazing chandelier. Via Cote de Texas

*This line of poetry is from:

Messy Room

by Shel Silverstein

Whosever room this is should be ashamed!
His underwear is hanging on the lamp.
His raincoat is there in the overstuffed chair,
And the chair is becoming quite mucky and damp.
His workbook is wedged in the window,
His sweater's been thrown on the floor.
His scarf and one ski are beneath the TV,
And his pants have been carelessly hung on the door.
His books are all jammed in the closet,
His vest has been left in the hall.
A lizard named Ed is asleep in his bed,
And his smelly old sock has been stuck to the wall.
Whosever room this is should be ashamed!
Donald or Robert or Willie or--
Huh? You say it's mine? Oh, dear,
I knew it looked familiar