Tuesday, May 25, 2010

15- Amour

And so begins another summer punctuated by tennis tournaments. For as long as I can afford to, I will arrange my schedule so I can watch my favorite players and be lulled into afternoon dozes (but only during the boring matches, of course) by John McEnroe's lazily authoritative commentating.

Roland Garros is a true indication of summertime, just as a gin and tonic on the back patio and flicking june bugs off the screen door are. It's the beginning of something great, in which the outcome is unknown but the energy of expectation pulses like thunderstorms in the bloodstream. Tennis is simultaneously relaxing and straining, methodic and unpredictable, mental yet physical. It's a sport with a narrative not about a team, but about a single player, a character, a champion- and as such the experience between viewer and competitor is intimate like getting to know a new lover, and sometimes tumultuous. Rivalries run deep, and compassion arrests the heart at the most surprising moments as players forfeit their dreams of winning a championship over a mental melt-down or unplanned physical strain.

It's a beautiful game, and I will enjoy watching the French, then Queens, Wimbledon, the US Open and whatever else comes in-between. And as I watch, I'll entertain thoughts of hitting a winning passing shot, of tensing, planting, then releasing and, with a burst of concentrated energy, moving a ball forward with the drive of perfection.


Monday, May 24, 2010

Karen & Jack

I've mentioned it once and I'll probably mention it again and again and again, for it's worth repeating: I adore Jack White. Begrudgingly (my disdain exists for no reason apart from the fact that she is his wife) I also adore Karen Elson. Ergo, I love this photo. It's intimate, voyeuristic and a little bit weird. They're so cool.

Brothers

Sometimes, I really miss my brothers.

Neal is not pictured, which isn't to say he is any less loved!

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Second Careers Worth Noting

Perhaps we're more noncommittal now than decades before, or maybe a globalized culture has instilled in us a kind of career schizophrenia- whatever the reason, people these days seem to be juggling a handful of jobs, not out of necessity, but because they want to. Whether they're moonlighting as a freelance photographer while working a 9-5 in human resources, or tending bar while working mornings as a yoga instructor, I'm fascinated by the different ways in which people choose to make their money. Particularly, I'm interested in the seemingly divergent second career paths of the middle-aged. For instance:



During my internet strolling this morning, I stumbled upon Bjorn Borg's self-named fashion label, something that until just now I've been completely oblivious to despite being a loyal tennis fan. On top of being a tennis icon/mastermind/superhuman, Borg is always one of the best dressed men in a tennis stadium and his hair... Oh! His hair is gorgeous! so his trajectory into fashion is not particularly surprising, though some of his underpants styles are: (ahem).

Meanwhile, I have yet to embark on my initial career path/way to earn a satisfactory income. As I consider how I progress, I'm continuously encouraged by people who do what they love and can still feed themselves, especially if they have a handful of tennis titles to boot.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Things that remind me of birds, but aren't birds.



These sunflowers in particular look like hungry baby birds in a nest, waiting for their mother to regurgitate food into their little beaks for lunch.


Fire similarly reminds me of hungry baby birds chirping up at the sky from their nests, but bonfires structurally remind me of a nest. With the overlapping twigs, wood, and pieces of brush, they always remind me of an ignited nest/bird home.


Koi/fish in general. Probably it's because they congregate like sparrows and pigeons and eat a lot of shit that humans throw at them. But also, when swimming, fish fluidly move as one, much like birds in flight.

So, those are my thoughts for Wednesday. Not all of them, mind you, but some.

Monday, May 10, 2010

Need

These Cole Haan shoes would complete me.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Things you shouldn't lick

When I was a freshman in college, I watched a news segment as it was broadcast in the dining hall; it was very unappetizing and all about how filthy handbags are. The newscaster said something along the lines of: "It would be safer to drink out of a toilet at Disney Land than let your handbag, and its millions of germs, come into contact with body orifices or open wounds."

Of course, being a frequent user of public transportation, this was not news to me, but it did make me think a little more seriously about the following:
  • Putting luggage/handbags on beds, countertops, tabletops, and yoga mats.
  • Putting luggage/handbags on floors in restaurants, trains, bathrooms, school, and essentially everywhere else. And,
  • How frequently I wash my hands after handling a handbag.
It is for this reason that I find it completely warranted that I just said to my roommate, as he looped one of my handbags over where I have my towel hanging, "Ohmygosh, remove that immediately! Do not put a handbag on something that I use to dry my vagina!"

He looked appalled. We both did, actually. But I'd just washed that towel!

P.S. You can substitute the word "cat" for "handbag" throughout this post and the sentiments in no way change.

Monday, May 3, 2010

Mirage...

I'm at David's. He's out of town and made the mistake of giving me access to his keys, suggesting I could use his car and apartment whenever/if ever I wanted. Of course I took the opportunity to go all teenager on him and take over his entire space. Later tonight I have fifteen people coming for a kegger. It'll be great.

Actually, I'm just doing laundry, drinking some white wine (it's hot outside! It's humid and 88 degrees! It's white wine season! Also, due to the water ban, I am forced to only drink alcoholic beverages. More on that later...), and am trying to research different avenues that I would like to follow as my life to progresses. I'm feeling pretty good about everything, especially seeing as I'm in a temperature controlled environment.

So, the WATER CRISIS! I haven't been too caught up in the excitement of the crisis (think Y2K-esque hysterics + bottled water storage), and all the information I've collected on the issue has been texted to me by caring friends. From what I understand, for the past 48 hours everyone in the city of Boston has been forced to boil their water like they're on some Oregon Trail expedition, or drink exclusively from bottles so as not to ingest any of the contaminated water that has infiltrated the water supply after some reservoir leaked, or something (if you want to know what really happened, just google it). Anyway, I celebrated the news of the leak/crisis/contamination as an excuse to solely drink delicious summer cocktails/beverages until the situation has been remedied.

I don't run for trains and I don't stand in line at grocery stores cradling my weight in bottled liquid. So, bottoms up, Boston! Here's to you and to hoping that I didn't accidentally kill myself while brushing my teeth last night with the tap!

Saturday, May 1, 2010

Happy May Day

When I was young, my mother would celebrate May Day by sitting with my brothers and I and crafting coned baskets out of construction paper and filling them with cut flowers. We'd decorate these baskets with special messages and pictures. Once we finished putting them together we'd canvas the neighborhood, hanging baskets on the doors of our neighbors, ringing their doorbells, and then darting behind the nearest boulder or idle car to watch as the door was opened, the flowers found, and our neighbors looked about for the silly people that disturbed them. It was bizarrely charming.

I wish I had some construction paper.