This Must Be The Place

no more excuses

2011-01-17T16:26:00.005-06:00

Another year, another Americorps? (too bad some vowels don't have the same pungent alliteration as consonants)
I started at Van Go (formerly "Van Go Mobile Arts") a week ago and things have been pretty quiet thus far. I'm able to gratify my love of material organization (anywhere but in my home!) with quite a bit of research (poking around on the internet and reading about Ann Cooper) and menial things like cleaning and preparing for our next big event.

It's incredibly different from City Year's exhausting sturm und drang - most of the staff is older and the general understanding is that the troubled "youth" we serve (some of them are close to my age) are the ones who will be serving forth the drama.

I have to admit that it's nice to be in a setting that is structured compared to the loosey-goosiness of college life, with its indeterminable gaps between classes which, more often than not, served as occasions for stolen naps in the stacks. Everyone talks about how nice it is to be able to go home and not have to worry about homework or preparation.

The problem, as I was complaining to Drew the other day, is that I feel like my entire life has become about coming home, preparing a meal, and then cleaning the kitchen (with reading, internet-ing, and PS3 Civilization-ing thrown in the mix). Not a terrible thing, granted, but one that needs to be a little more stimulating considering I expend relatively so little energy throughout the day. However, I've noticed that I've become a lot more conscientious about my food since I've started Americorps - a whole lot less meat, less eating out, less random snacking. It's not perfect, admittedly - I'm munching on a large bag of Jalapeno Crunchers as I type this - but it's a noticeable change from the harried indulgences of student life.

This has inspired me enough to really begin an exploration of home cooking, as is so popular on and off the blogs nowadays. I'm calling it the Poverty Diet, though hopefully it'll be rich in flavor while low in cost. This may change if I get food stamps (fingers crossed!) but either way, I'm going to look into producing more well-rounded meals, with an emphasis on vegetables. I have yet to jump on that local food wagon yet but in preparation for Van Go's summer food program (more on this later) I might start picking up ideas.

We'll see how it goes but I'm off to a decent start. Last week included a lentil stew-ish thing (which looked incredibly bland and off-putting but tasted great in my opinion) with quinoa and an unctuous mushroom bourguignon that was easy though time-consuming to make (10 PM after shopping and prep was far too late for my Midwestern 7 PM eating schedule).
I've been especially inspired by Sara Dickerman's lovely "Food Lover's Cleanse" journal for Bon Appetit. I love reading food diaries like New York Magazine's "New York Diet" and have thus decided to set forth into creating my own on this very blog. I probably won't write about many of my meals (my lunches usually consist of strategic leftovers) but I think it'll provide me with a push to get some variety into my diet. Let's see what happens!

too young

2010-07-12T22:09:00.008-05:00

Heeeeey friends.

Sorry, but everything's suuuper busy this summer. I'll actually update something worthwhile soon to my two readers (hrumph, Jessica and Tyler).

Just some quick things:
Vogue goes shopping with Michiko Kakutani and Maureen Dowd? Whaa? Two of the most respected/feared women in journalism? Hilarious. But refreshing, at the same time; feminism finally lets its hair down.

Also, this:
Amazing, right? Stefani Tonchi already seems to be flying out of the gate at his new post. Unstoppable.

BTW, I changed the color scheme to something a little more summery/I'm super into forest green thanks to this dude (my new favorite blog!).

start spreadin' the news

2010-06-06T20:26:00.003-05:00

Hi.

I am here:
Which is to say that I am in Morningside Hieghts. Which is to say that I am in New York.

I guess I have a backlog of explaining to do (not that this blog is much for explaining any particular element of my life). After fake graduating in May (I'm going back for a victory half-lap in the fall), I've flown out here to begin an internship that begins tomorrow. I'll be interning at the Bronx Museum of the Arts through the Arts & Business Council of New York. Most of my feelings about this internship involve rapid fire excitement and vague, haunting fear. It's enough to say that I am, as always, worried. But I know it'll be fine. Even if I know nothing about art.

It's nice to be back in the city, even though, as I told my friend John, I'm still trying to adjust my gaze from a touristic mode to a residential one. It's strange living in Manhattan and having Zabar's a couple of subway stops away. It feels, one could say, empowering. I could be Woody Allen and Meg Ryan. (Is it sad that those are the only two people really conjured up when thinking of the Upper Westside? Yes.)

For the first time since I've been here, the heat haze has temporarily lifted off the city, but only because of the threat of thunderstorms and hail. In fact, walking back from the bookstore, I was almost cold; a funny sensation that nevertheless made me wish I had changed out of my shorts.

I am someone who sweats. A lot. And not anywhere strategic or unnoticeable. It seems like most of my sweat comes from my head and lands directly on my face, where it becomes mired in my eyebrows, above my lip, or right around my nose. It makes me look like I am an oily, ghastly brute. It makes me feel like one too. I hate it. I realize that I'm going to be feeling like that a lot this summer with an apartment that isn't air-conditioned. But never mind that for right now. I'll have plenty of time to complain.

Back to the bookstore. I love how bookstores seemingly are just in constant supply in Manhattan. On Friday, I picked up a book at my favorite bookstore, McNally Jackson Books. It's called Dancer and it's by Colum McCann. It's a fictional retelling of Nureyev's life. If anything, I am a very specific fan of this very specific genre. Non-fiction sometimes gets stuck. Fictional retellings of non-fiction people flows, particularly this example. It flowed so well that before I knew it, I had read a third of the book. Now I arrive at a quandry. Today, I went to another bookstore and spent an hour and half deciding. Do I purchase the book that I really want to read, but have already read partly through? Do I buy his other book, which I hear is also fantastic but might be too much McCann for one person to read in such a short time? Or do I go with something else? I went with an art theory book, which also made me really worried that I wouldn't read it because I would be tired from thinking about art all day with my job. Though it will be great for dropping little factoids.

Once again, this is to say, Oh well. I am happy. I am spending lots of money. But right now, feeling the breeze whirl around my room and threaten to push over the box fan, it's good. Now I have to try and remember how to tie a tie.

cousins, separated by mediums

2010-05-03T22:16:00.005-05:00

I love this thoroughly romantic portrait of Tristan Knights by famed photographer Paolo Reversi. Doesn't it look like something Elizabeth Peyton would've done?
Images from here and here.

so happy to serve you

2010-05-02T17:36:00.006-05:00

Proof that good design isn't always sparsely printed in Helvetica, the iconic blue and white cardboard coffee cup associated with New York diners and street stands has an almost mythical quality to it. For me, it brings up ideas of intellectualism, tradition, and speed. Imagine a tall man, hunched over against the wind, wrapped in a tweed overcoat with the steaming cup in his hand. Although the coffee inside wasn't always very good, the cup itself was always just right.

The inventor of the "Anthora" died this past week. Leslie Buck was an immigrant who somehow utilized Greek imagery to create an American icon.

Several years ago, the Anthora was revitalized when shops began selling a witty ceramic version of it. I have one sitting on my desk; it's much too cherished for everyday use. You can get your own here.

this lights up my life

2010-04-14T16:46:00.008-05:00

There are so many great things about this video:
1. Patti Smith on a kids' show? Yes, please.
2. Her considerate and insightful answers, all spoken with that drawling Chicago accent.
3. Patti Smith earnestly singing "You Light Up My Life", the Debby Boone that is considered one of the sappiest ballads of all of time. Confession: I secretly love that song and Patti totally rocks it in a weird, "can't really sing" sort of way.
4. Her performance is to be followed by an appearance from Count Dracula. Awesome.

tides

2010-04-08T21:29:00.007-05:00

I've been feeling it for awhile, but last night's Beach House concert cemented it for me: I'm feeling for California.

Okay, so this band's wispy musical stylings are based in Baltimore. Nonetheless, they reflect an on-going resurgence in the dream-cool that's taking place on all fronts.

For me, it started last fall with the collections of cool kid designers Proenza Schouler and Thakoon. Their Spring '10 collections showcased surf-inspired looks that had just the right amount of long-limbed insouciance, messiness, and gracefulness.
Proenza Schouler from style.com
Thakoon from style.com

I love the electric blues and yellows that they showed - enough to reconsider a diversion from my normal black, gray, and dark blue. Maybe this summer will have me sporting vintage Oakley's and one of those bright pink swimming shorts so popular in the nineties?

But my obsession with California has less to do with most American's associations. In fact, I've always been kind of disgusted with the reality of California, especialyl SoCal. Instead, I've meshed a sort of laid-back utopia out of the surf culture and Laurel Canyon-era electic bohemianism. Imagine waking up in a house with white-washed wood floors surrounded by lush trees (something like this), driving barefoot to some shack to get fish tacos, and getting stoned by the beach while wearing an oversize t-shirt with holes in it. Sort of Joni Mitchell on a surf board. Privileged, a little bit unthinking, and young.

Anyway, I've already been listening to them for awhile, but I'm going to soothe my California-less woes this summer by listening to the Girls while driving to the lake. To follow up, I'm temporarily changing the colors of this blog.

let's go back to...

2010-03-26T14:02:00.003-05:00

yellow fever

2010-03-22T14:31:00.003-05:00

Proof why you should be afraid of neither MSG or, for that matter, Chinese food. All you health nuts can safely focus on growth hormones or whatnot instead now.

tiny boxes

2010-02-25T16:34:00.007-06:00

I think that too much space makes me nervous. That's why the idea of these tiny little apartments, like this one owned by a young designer, are so appealing to me. They're intimate, quirky, manageable, and reachable. It's hard to achieve perfection in a huge house, but it's a whole lot easier when your whole living space is one room.

images from here.

donuts, man

2010-02-20T17:03:00.002-06:00

a reprimand to this?: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wCF3ywukQYA

just hit rewind

2010-02-06T18:42:00.009-06:00

This weekend I'm back home in Manhattan. My sister's turned sixteen, which means I'm giving up my Honda Civic for a (comparatively) swanky Mazda M3. I mean, c'mon - it has a CD player.

But in a sense, I'm not quite ready to give up the Civic. It drives me crazy that the only music I can listen to is either NPR, Top 40, or my slightly melted Blue Oyster Cult and Psychedelic Furs cassette tapes from high school. Still, cars become such an attachment in Kansas; they're like third legs (and not in a dirty way). Plus, I can't help but think that my silver Honda's a little less tacky than a sporty bright blue Mazda.

I wasn't in the greatest mood driving back and I dug out one of my oldest friends that I've been neglecting for awhile: Joni Mitchell's Blue. I don't think that anyone can fully understand me unless they've carefully listened to this record, through on through. Call me girly, call me uninspired, but it's true.

I don't remember when exactly I purchased it for the first time on CD. I think we were on a family vacation somewhere, maybe San Francisco. At that time, I think I was a freshman in high school, give or take, and had been discovering all this great folk music that I liked to listen to alone in my room with the lights off. I'd seen the lovely Joni pop up on recommendation lists in magazines like Spin and Rolling Stone but I'd never heard anything besides "Both Sides Now" and "Big Yellow Taxi".

Blue was different from anything that I'd heard. The reason I'd been so into folksy sorts of music was because it seemed to express all the deeply melancholy emotions I'd been experiencing in a truer, more connective way than the mope rock like the Smiths, which up to then had been my favorite band. And that was especially true for Blue, which contained the voracious heights and the lowest lows to which a hormonal and precocious teenager could really grasp on. An immediate sense of connection, like the music was being pumped straight into my veins.

Since then, the love affair's only continued. One of the greatest and most thoughtful gifts I've ever received is from my fantastic friend Katie. We geeked out over our mutual adoration of the album in trigonometry class junior year and when she returned from winter break, she presented me with Blue on cassette tape. Because there really was nothing else to listen to in that Civic, it became the de facto music. That's when Joni and I really got to bond.

I have literally listened to that tape over and over again, countlessly, endlessly. There was a time when I knew exactly how long to fast-forward through sections of the tape to get to the song I wanted to hear. It was the tape that I would listen late nights in high school, when I would drive my car out into the country, lonely and depressed, and gaze at the stars while Joni sang softly in the background. It was the tape that was in my car every time I drove back home from Mizzou, feeling the unending urge to make a break for it all.

I guess I haven't really talked about the album or its songs specifically. In a way, that feels too personal (as if this post weren't embarrassingly already). Now I can see some of its flaws and there are definitely songs I love more than others: "California", "A Case of You", and "All I Want" come to mind. More than anything, that tape has demonstrated emotional dependability, in a way that not many things have in my life. I'm not always a very good person, but it's nice to know that Joni's always going to be there, feeling the same things that I'm feeling when no one else is around - I just have to pop her into my tape player.

So in a very tangential way, this is my tribute to Joni Mitchell and my ol' Civic. It feels kinda silly writing it now, but... Well, I don't know. Let me just leave you with my favorite song off of Blue. Don't just listen to it absentmindedly while perusing Wikipedia or anything. Save it for when you're feeling washing the dishes a little down or the weather outside is slushy and grey. Or you could be like me and just listen to it again and again... and again.

Also,

2010-02-05T17:10:00.005-06:00

These were on the same roll as the Seattle/Vancouver photos. Looking back, high school probably wasn't as bad as I thought it was. I'm still surprised, however, that people were willing to hang out with my buzzed hair cut.

hot child in the city

2010-02-05T16:55:00.008-06:00

Like everyone else in the world (okay, maybe only those really into figure skating), I'm incredibly excited about the Winter Olympics coming up. I've been sorting through iPhoto and came across some old photos taken on a family trip to Seattle/Vancouver way back in my high school days (ignore the shaved head; I promise it was really hot that summer in Kansas).

I have to say, my favorite thing that I saw on the trip were the Prada/toxic green bathrooms of the Seattle Public Library, which is shown below. Well, the Rem Koolhas-designed library itself was, of course, astounding.

As for Vancouver? More than anything, I remember the feeling of cleanliness that pervaded the city.. I know, it sounds lame, but there's something indescribably crisp. Also, I remember the Chinatown (supposedly one of the largest in the world) being absolutely deserted when we went there for dinner - strange?

This pictures make me miss and appreciate my trusty old film SLR, which has been broken for the past few months. I love my new digital SLR, but its photos don't produce the same vibrancy that film does. I have to admit, however, it's hella less expensive.

my goodies.

2010-01-31T13:33:00.005-06:00

I just got back from Taiwan a couple of weeks ago and last night I found myself talking to someone who has family there. Now talking about Taiwan would provoke emotions about family, etc. in, I dunno, most nice grandkids, but most of all I found myself rhapsodizing about the food. Call me an uncaring bastard, but when you have such goodies at hand, it's hard to think about anything else.

french navy

2010-01-02T18:12:00.007-06:00

Pajama sets usually make me think of fifties Hollywood, but not usually in a wearable way. However, I've become completely obsessed with these pjs from J.Crew. The piping is to die for. I'd love a cream linen set with navy piping and my initials monogrammed. It's more French than Cary Grant. It's Jane Birkin waking up in the morning, throwing on the pajama shirt, and sitting on the balcony and smoking. When I spotted this image of Claude Chabrol in his personal best, it all made sense. I still don't know if I can personally pull them off, but don't they look great?
image from here.

And a happy new year...

2009-12-29T00:50:00.005-06:00

Chomping on some pastries and tea eggs in the Eva Air lounge waiting for the plane. Off to Taiwan and then Cambodia with my ol' paps, where we'll be heading off to this little swingin' pad to start the new year/decade right...
photo from here.

Sometimes even I have to admit that I have a pretty nice life. Bumped up to business class? Even nicer... It certainly softens the blow of losing approximately 3 days of my life one single way to Taipei.

What to pack for travel reading = always a conundrum in my book. Though my semester wasn't exactly literature-heavy, I decided I needed a nice trashy read. What could be trashier than that ultimate camp classic, Jacqueline Susann's Valley of the Dolls?
However, the read was a little too trashy for even me - halfway through the book and our trip, I've dropping it off at the lounge for some intrepid traveler. As for me, I'll stick to the movie.

Instead, I picked up Robert Bolano's 2666, which garnered a glut of attention and fawning reviews when it came out. I'm normally resistant to contemporary literature from unknown authors - I like to know that my time is being well-spent. But I was in a hurry, nothing else caught my eye, it looked like it might keep me through my entire journey, and... hey, why not? The cover, at least, is fantastic. And for $18, it was a positive steal compared to whatever awful Nathaniel Hawthorne novel I might've picked up in Taiwan instead.

Anyway, here is one of my fave ditties from Ms. Ella to season your holiday seasonings. Here's hoping you all get that New Year's kiss.

I'll personally be thinking of a special someone come New Year's Eve - some guys have all the luck!

See ya next decade!
Signing off!

Love is Strange

2009-12-06T19:29:00.000-06:00

Reasons why Taiwan will be the next world power:

2009-12-05T13:30:00.003-06:00

The only recent popular news I've seen about the island:

A Taiwanese man beat World of Warcraft:
http://www.examiner.com/x-28647-Milwaukee-Video-Game-Examiner~y2009m12d4-Little-Gray-beats-World-of-Warcraft

And we're simulating news scenarios about Tiger Woods:
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/12/06/business/media/06animate.html?hp

Great.

All I want for Christmas

2009-12-02T21:14:00.001-06:00

Is this wardrobe.

wrapped in glasses - it's fantastic

2009-11-09T15:49:00.008-06:00

For the past few days, I've been obsessively checking the mailbox everyday for the arrival of my new glasses. Eye glasses have always been the subject of an incredibly intense love/hate relationship.

I absolutely adore the aesthetic idea of a great pair of glasses and remember purposefully reading with really poor lighting when I was younger in hopes of weakening my eyes. In high school, I had a fake pair of plastic black framed ones that I wore constantly until a) they became ubiquitous b) I realized how horrifying they made me look.

In college, my eyes finally succumbed and I was diagnosed as a little short sighted, enough to warrant my first pair. Unfortunately, the pair I really wanted was from Oliver Peoples (translation: =$$$$) and in a hurry because my mom was waiting to make Thanksgiving dinner, I chose a pair of Ralph Lauren glasses that ended up being the bane of my existence. I still remember receiving them in the mail at Mizzou, trying them on, and being absolutely horrified.

Since then, eyewear and I have been had an uneasy relationship. Nothing makes me look super "Asian" and disfigures my face quicker than a pair of unflattering glasses, which unfortunately happens to be most glasses. I don't really have a face for them, truth be told, and I even avoided sunglasses until very recently because I think they make me look pissed off (via eyebrow juxtapositioning).

While in New York, I found a pair of gorgeous titanium ones at a sample sale for $50. It was perhaps my greatest find so of course I lost them promptly in Central Park. Since then, I've been without a pair, despite my eyes getting worse and worse.

Finally, with my parents' insurance running out in November, I've gone on an eyeglass hunt. I've found several pairs that I really love, but of course they're always really expensive. I can't justify spending too much money on a pair. I finally found a pair in Lawrence that were perfect, but a little too small. Despairing, I've taken to ordering online.

I subscribe less to the trendy-cool genre of mediocre glasses found on so many hipsters and more to the nebbish, New York intellectual aesthetic. Therefore, Moscot made perfect sense despite hesitations about ordering a pair off the internet.

Moscot is a Jewish optometrist in New York with a long history and an even longer list of celebrity clients that include John Lennon and Johnny Depp. All of their glasses are named after family members and have that really great Woody Allen-esque chic to them. They're not annoying like many of the black framed glasses out there because not only do they have history and authenticity on their side, but their frames, I think, are more interesting, have personality, and are of better quality.

Here are a few of my favorites:

The Lemtosh

The Nebb

The Nebb SEThe Zelig

Gorgeous, right? I was originally going to purchase the Zelig, but like all of Moscot's older frames, it was too small for me. So instead, I went with their newer line of modern reinterpretations and ordered the Yale.

I've always wanted a pair of tortoise shell glasses so these seemed rather perfect. I have to admit that the black Yales are even better looking online, but there was no giving up on my tortoise-centered dreams. Here's hoping they look okay! Otherwise, it's back to the eyewear store for me!

sunny side ups

2009-10-26T16:59:00.005-05:00

Hate to leave you hangin', but because my life is currently more stressful than an episode of "Curb Your Enthusiasm", how about you enjoy some photo inspiration courtesy of people other than myself?

head space

2009-09-25T16:15:00.001-05:00

Recent obsession gratis of Jack!

blinded by light

2009-09-13T17:20:00.005-05:00

a shot by the Sartorialist

In dedication of the start of New York Fashion Week and the recent book launch by one of my favorite fixations, Scott Schuman aka the Sartorialist, I'm devoting an actual blog post to the inexplicably addictive phenom of street style bogs.

These blogs document people and their outfits ranging from the quietly chic to the outrageous. Most are based in certain metropolitan cities, most often New York, Tokyo, Paris and assorted European cities. Having gained momentum within the past year or so, they have come to generate ideas for fashion, prompt discussion about standards of beauty, and induce a real idee fixe among followers. What separates these photogs from the society photographers and paparazzi of the past are that they focus on everyday cosmopolites. Most subjects may be fairly wealthy and a large number admittedly work in the fashion industry, but they are nonetheless everyday people, not celebrities, unless you count the obsessive fans that have now begun to follow them. Indeed, what's particularly amazing is the fatuous fan base that has spread from the 100+ comments that each blog post generates to real movers and shakers, such as fashion powerhouse Paris Vogue to department stores Holt Renfrew, Collette, and Barney's New York, both of whom have recently dedicated store windows and retail space to these street warriors. Wholly and undeniably, that is real power.

Moreover, many of these photographers are usually not professional. Instead, they share a keen sense of detail and a love of style, not necessarily the wholly unapproachable fashion that magazines and websites have traditionally paid tribute to.

Schuman shot by Garance

The big daddy of this movement is, of course, the Sartorialist, a former director of a showroom. Schuman is pure evidence of the power and interest that street style now wields. The Sartorialist.com, his website, is minimal with the most basic web design borrowed from blogspot.com and usually relies on a simple headline that describes either the mood, the key detail, or the location where the subject was snapped. Instead, the photograph says it all. They're vibrant and welcoming, a reversal of the distancing cool that fashion usually shrouds itself in. Like other street style photographers, the Sartorialist insists that he isn't necessarily following what is “on trend”; instead, he photographs what he finds beautiful and moving. It definitely works. In fact, getting shot by the Sartorialist has become an impossible honor and obsession for many cosmopolites, so much that the website Refinery29 released this tongue-in-cheek graphic as a guide as to how to get his attention:

I've been following him since he's started; checking his website every morning has become part of my routine. I only see a growing popularity with the publication of his new book. A photograph on a website can't always capture everything there is to see – sometimes you just really need it in hardcopy. Sometimes Scott's pictorial subjects have escaped me; flipping through the book is both revealing and enlightening as to why so many of these people are graced with his lens. My only complaint is its size: I was definitely hoping for a coffee table size publication, but the regular edition (versus his “bespoke edition”) is the size of a normal paperbook – not the greatest size for displaying the power of detail that is so central to his work.

Yet, one musn't forget that the claims to street style documentation belong Japanese fashion magazines, who have been documenting their fabulous citizens for years now, and Bill Cunningham, a photographer for the New York Times. Bill is an absolute legend who still remains somehow undiscovered, or at least not popularly discussed by a non-New York audience. His photo column "On the Street" appear in the Sunday Times, usually focusing on a theme or an event. If the Sartorialist is all about the outstanding individual – he photographs them in the light of the gods – Bill's photographs are proletariat and democratic. A problem with many street style websites is that they tend to get stuck in a rut photographing the same people or styles. With Bill, you never know what to expect. His essays inevitably contain a multitude of races, socio-economic backgrounds, and appearances, from Park Avenue grand dames to Union Square skater kids. Over all, they embody his vision of New York. Bill Cunningham is New York City. I insist you listen to his audio column that comes out every week at nytimes.com – he is an absolute gentleman.

Garance shot by Schuman

I would suggest that his demi-descendant is French photographer Garance Dore. Garance is a mix of the Sartorialist (she's actually dating him) and Bill Cunningham. She has Cunningham's warmth, most obviously and wonderfully expressed in her columns that accompany most of her photos. At the same time, her photographs share the same devotion to light and space as Schuman's. While the Sartorialist himself often times remains a blank (which may be a good thing, judging from his recent interviews), Cunningham's and Garance's photos are suffused with personality. One noticeable feature (as pointed out by a friend) is how consistently physically blessed all of her subjects are. I don't understand where she finds them, but it both inspires and depresses me. While Bill is decidedly American and Scott lends a more international eye, Garance's aesthetic seems undeniably French no matter where her subjects are sourced from.

a shot by Tommy Ton

There are also a bunch of trendier sites that also document the street. My favorite of those is Jak & Jill (aka Tommy Ton), who forms some what of a trifecta with Garance and Schuman in the Holy Trinity of Street Style. Many of these sites, while interesting, are a bit derivative and lack the real warmth, aesthetic taste, and talent that the Greats have, however. While still undeniably great, they lack that je ne sais quoi, if you will, that Scott, Garance, Tommy and Bill embody. Check them out nonetheless – here are a few that I keep up with:

Copenhagen Street Style
Streetpeeper
Style and the City
Stylesightings

i. love. this.

2009-09-06T17:04:00.003-05:00

Ch-ch-check it. Check it out.

easy as 123

2009-09-01T19:52:00.006-05:00

It's really amusing to hear people flip through a magazine and disgustedly exclaim, "ugh, who would wear that?" about some really avant garde creation. Well, I guess I shouldn't say "amusing" so much as "annoying" because for me, most of the outrageous/"ugly" stuff is precisely what is interesting about fashion. I mean, who wants to look at another tasteful Armani black pantsuit?

But here to help those fashion novices is Fashematics, perhaps one of the most diverting websites I've come across in a while. They break down the "inspiration" behind each look so that understanding fashion is easy as

1

+

2

= 3!

Here are some of my favs:

a swine-filled fluuuuzy

2009-09-01T19:41:00.004-05:00

Ugh, the only solution for swine flu-induced boredom is a cup of tea and back episodes of "30 Rock". I tried getting into some other shows (True Blood, anyone?) but the only thing that could keep my attenuated attention span were the antics of Tina Fey. Well, that and Kung Fu Panda, but that's another story...

hahahaha

2009-08-17T14:00:00.002-05:00

from here.

Yet, I feel like you'd have to be really tacky to ever actually wear this. We'll see.

been broke a thousand times

2009-08-16T02:51:00.012-05:00

To make up for the inanity of the last post (but how could you resist such amazing lyrics???), I'm following up with what is running contention for my favorite song of all time - I can't ever imagine getting sick of it. This is the song I would want at my wedding (ha!). From the opening piano chords with the orchestral build-up (and the drums! AND SAX!)... The call and response (darling, I'll... wait for you!)... And Ron Isley's voice is so plaintive! How could you do anything but fall in love with someone who sings like that? It's heartbreaking but so so so good.
Put it on repeat and just dance. I certainly am.

PS. Rod Stewart doesn't even COMPARE.

some are worthwhile and some are so-so

2009-08-12T17:28:00.000-05:00

winter wonders

2009-08-09T16:56:00.009-05:00

I'm kinda sorta obsessed with these hats from beardhead.com
They're hardly flattering but so quirky and funny (though those two adjectives are looking more and more like detriments nowadays). Plus, they look incredibly warm. Still, I feel like it takes the right guy to pull off something like this (it certainly isn't this man) ... But who knows? YOU could be that guy.

edit:
Looks like I'm not the only one feeling for these fur traps. Whilst perusing the Selby today, I happened upon a photo stuck in the inspiration board for Lucas Ossendrijver, the designer for Lanvin's menswear. Look familiar? Come winter, expect the beardheads to make it BIG.

live forever

2009-08-06T12:49:00.014-05:00

Okay, I know, I know... Everything I talk about either comes from the New York Times, New York Magazine, or other assorted NYC related publications. Still, how genius are these pastel portraits of cast members from MTV's "The Hills" by Karin Bubaš?

I don't really watch "The Hills" (though I will cop up to being a minor fan of "The City", it's prettier sister) but I've seen enough to recognize most of the cast members and to familiarize myself with Lauren's crying jags (as hilariously portrayed by Karin). Through Karin's lens, they become soapy, touchingly funny, and a little heartbreaking. As Joshua David Stein writes, "Chalk pastels are the soft focus of the art world — the Lifetime channel on paper — and for the characters of the notoriously high-definition, supersaturated “The Hills,” the medium is humanizing."

Part of the appeal may stem from my obsession with celebrity portraits. One of my favorite artists is painter Elizabeth Peyton, who has gained a lot of street and fashion cred within the last several years. Peyton's paintings are saturated, whimsical, and melancholy. There's a strong sense of character in her pieces - she focuses on her subjects which, more often than not, tend to be celebrities. Perhaps her most famous series of paintings are the ones she's done of Kurt Cobain, which are admittedly naively touching in a velvet painting sort of way.

Michelle Obama

Mad King Ludwig II

Kurt Cobain.

She started out doing portraits of historical figures such as Napoleon and Mad King Ludwig, which was how I found out about her (minor obsession). What really impresses me is that while most celebrity portraits are either distantly ironic or just tacky (though there's not necessarily any thing wrong with either). With Peyton, however, you can sense the genuine love and care that she feels towards each of her subjects. She only paints people with whom she feels a genuine accord. I can't comment on how good of a painter she is, but each painting emotes such an intense mood that it's hard not to get involved.

Jarvis Cocker and Liam Gallagher

Kurt

2009-07-29T21:56:00.004-05:00

My relationship to Taiwan is arbitrary and constantly fluctuating. Nonetheless, I'm always extremely excited to hear about big news coming from the island, particularly the World Games, which took place last week in Kaohsiung. I actually had no idea that the Games were taking place in Taiwan until I read an article about the stadium designed by Toyo Ito. The stadium itself is marvelous: it's the largest solar-powered stadium in the world. For me, it expresses everything that a stadium should reprsent: it's overall appearance suggests a coiled serpent, which lends it a vibrant energy lacking from most monolithic arenas. Part of it is also completely open to the park, with the idea that people will be able to simply come in and enjoy whatever's going on. Plus, it's gorgeous, right?

From what my mother's told me, everyone seems to have been really excited about the World Games. It's absolutely wonderful for Taiwan - it's always exciting to see us get some publicity. The cynic in me, however, sees it in a different light: how fitting is it that within a year of the Beijing Olympics, the World Games, an Olympic subsidiary for lesser-known sports, takes place in Taiwan? I think it really speaks to the political situation in the two countries.

Anyway, for more on the fantastic architect, Toyo Ito, check out this NYTimes article. He just got commissioned to do the Berkeley Arts Museum and they're beginning to build his design for the Taichung Opera House, which looks fantastic.

jcr. this way

2009-07-26T23:45:00.004-05:00

I'm finally getting around to uploading my Oxford pics. So strange to say, but I really miss it.

this is the cutest boy ever

2009-07-26T23:41:00.002-05:00

It's really disconcerting when little children are so much cooler than me.
img from here.

Iggy & Ziggy

2009-07-21T17:48:00.002-05:00

Yes, please.

she make the people say, "yeah"

2009-07-16T20:54:00.010-05:00

photo from gazettetimes.com

I have an extreme, irony-free predilection for outdated pop tunes. That is, I can't really appreciate pop songs while they're still, uh, popular. Whether this is because I'm not up on the cultural zeitgeist or because of a deeply ingrained snobbism is unclear, but either way I always seem to rediscover songs several months or years after they are long off the radio (or in the case of Manhattan KS radio, it probably never went off because we still seem to enjoy SugarRay and other 90s poppettes). One of my all-time favorites is prepubescent pop sensation 3LW (the acronym stands for "3 Lil' Women), whose outrageously catchy song "No More (Baby I'ma Do it Right)" was reintroduced to me via my friend Nikki a few years back. One of my guilty Oxford pleasures was "Hot N' Cold" by Katy Perry, whose musical stylings usually cause a pop rash in my soul. However, the insane ubiquity of the song in English clubs meant that it became sort of anthem to the Oxford term abroad. It manages to conjure up hot, sweaty, awkward nights at The Bridge and unplugged singing while bopping around the Continent.

As of late, I've become obsessed with T-Pain. His "Buy You a Drink" was already a favorite from NY days, but it's his song "Can't Believe It" that really gets my jam flowing. I don't care what Jay-Z says, I love autotune, especially T-Pain's use of it. Not to mention, the graphics are ludicrously amusing - it looks like the graphics designer simply took his Sims dream houses and implanted it into the video.

2009-07-15T13:03:00.008-05:00

image from here nymag.com

If there's anything I'm fanatic about, it's dining, especially when it comes to ferreting out places that haven't been heard of by most of the population and that serve food at a relatively affordable price. There's nothing better than eating something moltenly delicious and knowing that it cost you less than an over-sugared Frappucino.

That's partly why I was (and am still) so obsessed with New York; the profusion of cafes, restaurants, and street carts prompted a maddening need to eat anything and everything. One of my favorite guides is New York Magazine's food guides that come out every year and are usually around $9-11. Even better is their issue dedicated to "Cheap Eats", whose release each year causes me to shut myself in the bedroom and obsessively plan what and where I'm going to eat next time I visit.

One great thing they did this year is a huge feature on pizza (specifically the "Neapolitan Pizza Revolution"). When I was living in the city, there would be quite a few times where I wouldn't be able to afford a proper meal while wandering around on the weekends, during my lunch break, or after work. Pizza, of course, was always the answer.

For around $2 a plain slice, I could eat all that I wanted. Pizza is the great democratizer. It made a great meal, especially with red pepper flakes, garlic salt, and parmesan piled on top. It made an even better snack, it's oily cheese dripping down the fold and onto the plate (or my shirt). Though most foodies seem to regard most of the pizza stands in NYC as subpar, for me, each slice was always a revelation compared to the execrable pies back in the Midwest. Before moving to New York, I wasn't even that crazy about pizza. Yet, something about the pies there completely and utterly changed my mind. It's hard to describe to someone what exactly makes New York pizza exactly so astoundingly exquisite; a lot of people say it's the crust - definitely a big deal -, but for me, it lies in the perfect balance of ingredients in every slice. Plus, there's the wonderful experience of being able to fold a pizza slice and eating it. Chicago deep dish, no matter what people say, is not pizza.

I remember coming back to Kansas and going with a bunch of people to eat at Wheatstate Pizza, a local favorite known for their wheat crust. It was perhaps one of the more depressing incidents I'd ever experienced; while the other's "mmmed" and "awwed" over the pizza, I could barely keep the excessively doughy, soft crust and saccharine sauce down my throat. That moment, more than anything, clarified that I was no longer in New York.

STAT

2009-07-10T17:42:00.003-05:00

So I'm resuscitating this blog from its longstanding illness. Admittedly, it was a little pointless as a blog documenting my time abroad, which partly resulted from the fact that I was there and much preferred experiencing Oxford than recounting them. Now that I'm back perhaps I'll write about some of my exploits, but I think this space will primarily serve as a thoroughly random, visually-oriented journal.

1) I was driving to class this morning and Boyz II Men and Mariah Carey's 90s pop hit "One Sweet Day" came on air (don't ask me what radio station I was listening to). I well remember this song and its music video from my MTV-saturated youth, but never realized that it was about someone's death - WHJAT? Anyway, I'm having this played at my funeral (and if you look at the youtube video w/ lyrics, the author posted something akin to "stop writing RIP comments" apparently due to the onrush inspired by MJ's recent death). Until then, I will hope that there comes a karaoke night soon when I can bust this out.

2) Absolutely obsessed with the idea of grey flannel bedding like the kind that T Magazine editor Stefano Tonchi has in his own bedroom.
SO GOOD.

happy summer

2009-06-14T15:25:00.005-05:00

photo courtesy of mark borthwick

milk fed

2009-06-09T18:31:00.004-05:00

So I'm no longer sure if I should be posting stuff about Oxford that I've been meaning to all along - tutorials, libraries, etc. It all seems a bit silly now that I'm leaving in two weeks.

Either way, continuing my run of emasculating but adorable websites, here's one I wanted to share with you.
It's called "My Milk Toof" and follows the daily adventures of these two little teeth. The artist was apparently inspired by a childhood wondering about what happened to all the little teeth collected by the Tooth Fairy. Hopefully they have just as exciting lives as these two.

stay tuned

2009-06-08T03:22:00.002-05:00

courtesy of the Selby.

Uhhhh... I would continue posting after the mini temper tantrum, but there's no time!

P.O.D. 9 and thoughts on the nature of blogging

2009-05-18T18:22:00.006-05:00

Strawberries on the beach, Nice.

I was reading someone's travel blog the other day. It was interesting, full of stunning pictures, and informative - full of stories and life. So, basically, nothing like mine. For me, blogging is a task that's neither here nor there - I'm not really sure why I do it. I think I do it to keep in contact, to let people in on my life and experiences, but it feels extremely one-sided at the same time. If I don't write much, or what I do write is rather uninvolved, it's partly out of that feeling of imbalance. I mean, I don't really know who reads this blog or even if people read it, and then I also don't get the same insight into my reader's lives either. It's - to use elementary school parlance - unfair. Sometimes it seems to me that blogging is just a really narcissistic endeavor, which is a tendency that I definitely don't need to encourage.

I guess what I'm getting at is a question about how much effort I should put into blogging. At this moment, it's pretty low. I'd like to share all the experiences and stories, but if no one shares my enthusiasm, I'd much rather write in my journal. What I'm curious to see is how many people actually pay attention. So, should I continue? Anyone?

currently obsessed:

2009-05-14T20:32:00.010-05:00

Spike Jonze has been keeping a pretty stealth blog, We Love You So, that's featuring all sorts of goodies from his upcoming film, Where the Wild Things Are. Of course, I'm so, so, so excited about it and have been for what seems like the hundreds of years it's been in development. The film's been plagued by problems: over-budget, "too scary" for kids, etc. But I mean, Catherine Keener and Maurice Sendak? How could you go wrong? You can see the trailer here.

However, best of all is all the extraneous stuff he blogs about. I got really excited today when he featured artist Michael C. Hsiung, whose work is whimsical, fantastical, and epic - a bit like a Decembrists song illustrated. Better yet, his work is available locally at the Wonderfair Gallery in Lawrence. Hurry up and get your own print, because I'm sure there's bound to be a boost in popularity now that Jonze has caught on. Me, I already have this one lurking around in my basement.

Oh, Spike - we love you so!

P.O.D. 8 - Nice

2009-05-13T17:56:00.003-05:00

Citron.

P.O.D. 7 - TAPAS!

2009-05-11T13:17:00.005-05:00

These pictures aren't any any chronological order (actually, they might be backwards...) but they achieve the effect. If we didn't exactly tapas bar hop, we at least experienced the tapas culture over the course of our stay. Overrated and not exactly becoming to a backpacker's budget, in my opinion, but how can you ever complain about such exciting food? Or food, period?

The tapas experience varies: at the top tapas bar, you sit down and order your tapas from a menu (thank god we had my cousin to guide us!). The bar pictured in the middle was absolutely insane - crowded as hell, but with such a great, non-touristy atmosphere. Too bad we didn't know what to order and ended up getting these seared sausage chunks (everyone was eating meat) and some sort of Cava. The last was probably my favorite, simply because they had the tapas all prepared. You simply grabbed a plate, loaded up on whichever ones you wanted, and they counted the number of toothpicks at the end! Ingenious!

hardcore

2009-05-11T13:12:00.004-05:00

The rule of thumb at Oxford is that as soon as you finish a paper, you're working on another one or two. That means lots of stress, time spent at the library, and incessant browsing of the internet. For the most part, I've been focusing lately on finding stuff to do in London during field trips, but here's the behind the scenes look at a very cool exhibition at one of my favorites, the American Museum of Natural History in NY:

"A whale with legs? A four-ton tongue? Extreme Mammals: The Biggest, Smallest and Most Amazing Mammals of All Time opens this Saturday."

look good, smell better

2009-05-10T10:04:00.009-05:00

Gum that makes you smell like roses and all sorts of pretty things? Amazing!

edit: because i am turning this into the girliest post ever - so kawaii! (double edit: sorry, how hetero-normative of me.)
"NYU student conducts most adorable robot experiment ever"

P.O.D. 4,5,6

2009-05-09T03:22:00.010-05:00

To make up for my failure to keep up with the photo project, I'm posting up a picture smorgasbord, all related to one of my favorite artists, Gaudi. First up is Parc Guell: beautiful, unusual, and tourist-filled - quintessentially Gaudi. You may recognize it from Woody Allen's "Vicky Christina Barcelona" - it figures rather prominently in the film, as does much of Gaudi's work.

Next is undoubtedly Gaudi's most famous and unfinished work, the Sagrada Familia. I don't think I can fully describe how bizarrely stunning this cathedral is; the size of it is overwhelming, but most of all, it feels so organic, like it just slowly rose out of the grand. Unfortunately, the interior is nowhere complete, so you don't get the awe-inspired feeling one gets at, say, the Notre Dame in Paris. Nonetheless, magic. And terrifying.

However, my personal favorite is the attic that Gaudi did for Casa Mila, whose roof I showed you a couple of days ago. I mean, it's the roof of an attic. Can you imagine that much attention being paid to something usually presumed to be the storing house of Victorian nightgowns and acidwash jeans? I mean, just look at those vaulted ceilings!

want one

2009-05-07T17:36:00.000-05:00

found at Lawrence.com

Okay, back to paper writing...

P.O.D. 3

2009-05-06T17:04:00.005-05:00

Hot chocolate so decadently rich that it simply must be eaten with a spoon? Check.
Drunkenly flashing the next table at one of Barcelona's venerable institutions at four in the afternoon?

Uhhh... Un-check.

P.O.D. 2

2009-05-05T18:42:00.002-05:00

Terrifying dragon slide in strange Barcelona industrial park (you climb through its mouth and come out its backside). All three of us slid down together and permanently cracked our tailbones because 1) there was no traction whatsoever 2) the angle was literally close to 75 degrees. I don't understand how millions of Spanish children haven't died.

spoiling the appetite

2009-05-05T06:38:00.005-05:00

I love Ruth Reichl. I really, really do. Beyond just wanting to eat with her (Check out her recent New York Diet for an idea), I just want to hang out with because she seems really hilarious and chill. It wouldn't hurt if she could score me a job at her publication. But this video from Gourmet... Uhh, what?

pictorial pleasures

2009-05-04T18:21:00.006-05:00

Since I'm feeling generous today (/can't get any work done bc of allergies), I've decided to begin recounting my Grand Tour adventures. Because I'm reticent to exercise any of my literary skills, this will be composed mainly of pictures - one a day, in vaguely chronilogical order. Perhaps this will generate traffic to my site. First off, Barcelona a la Gaudi.

2009-05-04T11:04:00.004-05:00

Until I actually getting around to publishing anything of merit, here are some hints and suggestions to keep you entertained:

1. Very Short List, which is a subscription service you can sign up for that serves you up via e-mail an interesting website, news story, etc. once a day. It's cultured, informed, and funny. I'm signed up for all three (and they're coming out with VSL food soon!) and it's definitely the most exciting thing that pops up into my mailbox (Sorry, KU Dean's Office).

2. I read this New Yorker article about neuroenhancers the other day. It doesn't necessarily arrive at any interesting conclusions, but it is interesting in how many of the people in the article (including the author itself) view the use of these drugs as perfectly defensible and understandable. With so many of our college peers now using Adderall and Ritalin to get a boost, will its use spread even wider?

3. Check out this Drew University senior's dorm room at NYMag - mind blowing. It reminds me of the way universities used to have their dorms, with the proper rugs, wood floors, and huge windows. So Ralph Lauren meets Brideshead. Aaaah, poor lil' state students.

until we bleed

2009-05-04T10:55:00.009-05:00

I would update about Oxford/European adventures, but, ew, sick with allergies that started up in the middle of a movie in London. I just drank a whole carton of OJ, so it should be fine. Promise it's not swine flu, but did anyone see that BBC story about zombie swine flue yesterday?

Uhhhh.

french lessons

2009-04-25T07:39:00.001-05:00

the sun goes down and the world goes dancing

2009-04-22T06:10:00.003-05:00

Back in Oxford and exhausted, sweaty, smelly and greasy - I'll need another vacation after this to recover. Still, I'm the luckiest guy in the world and I can't wait to share the billions of stories and pics from my adventures. Until then, just a picture will have to suffice.

moi, je joue

2009-04-15T14:54:00.003-05:00

Hi readers,

Sorry I´ve been off the grid for the past two weeks. Haven´t been checking my email/Facebook either. Still traveling, but nearing the end of it. In the grand tradition of one of my favorite lo-fi but oh-so educational games, "Where in the World is Carmen San Diego?", I´m leaving some clues as to where I am currently:

1. The flag is red and white.
2. Made famous by a certain composer born here in the 18th c.
3. Also the setting of a much beloved musical which features clothes made with drapes - my dad´s favorite film.
4. They love their wiener schnitzel.

That should make things easy enough. Also, check this out: http://nymag.com/daily/food/2009/04/cupcakes.html

following the sun

2009-03-12T21:49:00.002-05:00

I'm off for my 5-week Grand Tour of Europe that will include:

Barcelona
Nice
Rome
Venice
Berlin
Paris
Amsterdam
Brussels
Prague
Vienna
Budapest
Salzburg

(Roughly in that order)

I'll try and update while I'm gallavanting, but if not, sit tight! Au revoir!

done AND done

2009-03-09T18:08:00.006-05:00

I just finished my last tutorial for term! Insane! I was so relieved that my tutor actually liked my paper - I started it the night before... as it is with all my paper now.

What Oxford has taught me: how to procrastinate, and procrastinate well.

Anyway, now I have to figure out the insanity that is my Easter break - 5 weeks traveling around Europe! I'll share my intinerary later, but what I'm most excited about is spending 10 days in Paris with one of my best friends, Jansa, who's flying in from Houston just to see me! Let's hope we don't kill each other by the end of the trip!

Anyway, what's particularly exciting for me about Paris is that it is the site of a store that I've been waiting to go to for what seems like my entire life: Deyrolle.

Deyrolle is a taxidermy shop, one of the oldest in the world, and absolutely beautiful. It burned down last year, but they've rebuilt since then. I admit, taxidermy is kind of creepy, strange, and offensive, but I have a perverse love for it and everything about Deyrolle is so whimsical and elegant.

Here are some pictures:

Fantastic right? I love the "Deyrolle blue" of the walls. I mean, everything about it is gorgeously macabre. Dead animals having a tea party? Right up my boat!

For more on taxidermy, a more personal take, check out this audio essay by Melissa Dixon, "the urban taxidermist". She's self-taught - how cool is that??? The NYTimes interviewed her as part of their "One in 8 Million" series.

gallery of non-scents

2009-03-07T18:07:00.020-06:00

One random thing that's been gaining interest for me is perfumery. I don't have a very sensitive sense of smell and am not discriminate with anything I wear, but I find the science and mythology behind it fascinating. Perfume is such an emasculating term and I feel self-conscious admitting my interest sometimes - all of which is silly. The thing is, I'm more entranced by the idea of perfume than the actual scent itself. My poor nose just compresses them into the simplest of categories: musky, floral, fruity, etc. It grosses me out when people wear really heavy cologne.

In the WSJ's most recent issue, Jean-Claude Ellena, a perfumer for one of the business's most important houses, Hermes, discusses his personal associations with scent.

My favorite, though, is perfume critic (isn't that an odd profession?) Chandler Burr, who writes a column for the NYTimes periodically. It was his column that initially got me interested - I read everything that they publish on their blog, The Moment. I find the prose really evocative, much like the idea of scent itself. Perhaps that is what's compelling: trying to put into words the idea of something so sensory. The very nature of perfume requires some semblance of poetry.

One of the most interesting perfumers in NY is CB I Hate Perfume, which is an independent perfumer based in Brooklyn. If we're talking about evocative, then CB can't be beat: he bases his perfumes on ideas and memories, such as "In the Library" and "Mr. Hulot's Holiday". Each perfume is a story - a scent story unto itself. It's certainly Proustian. It's a highly personal mode of perfumery that contrasts with that of, say, Calvin Klein.

I went there periodically when I still lived in the city - my favorite was "Winter 1972". Try to imagine what that smells like before reading the description.

cribz

2009-03-03T05:40:00.016-06:00

Okay, so I realize I've been terribly remiss in actually sharing anything about my life here in England so today we're going to start off with the place that I live: the Hertford Graduate Housing Centre which is zillions of miles from my actual college, St. Catherine's. They put some of the visiting students here because they ran out of room over at Catz. I definitely enjoy having a room (and bathroom) of one's own, but I also feel like I miss out on a lot of stuff back at the college.

Welcome to my crib!

My desk and my pitiful wall. Send me stuff to put on it and maybe you'll get a...

POSTCARD!
My fave.

Beloved towel warmer.

And a real wardrobe! (sadly, sans lions, witches, or Mr. Tumnus too keep my company)

My favorite aspect of living here is that we're right by the River Isis, so I have a wonderful view outside my window:

Looking into the city.

Christ Church Meadows.

And the dock where the "asshole swans", as I call them, congregate at night and squawk, squeal, and do all sorts of unmentionables.

Anyway, my brain is too frazzled to actually write anything of interest. Thanks, Jess and Elizabeth for the mail!

missing persons report

2009-03-02T18:44:00.009-06:00

Promise I'm not dead - I'm just... resting?
BRB, mon amie.

greatest headline ever

2009-02-04T12:52:00.004-06:00

"Obama Woos G.O.P. With Attention, and Cookies"

Who could resist?

out there on the ice again

2009-02-02T14:35:00.014-06:00

Today it snowed in Oxford. Or rather, it started snowing last night.

This was on my way to tutorial.

Today I made tomato soup for lunch, got in a snowball fight, and wore long underwear which left itchy rings around my ankles when I took them off.

It's amusing that there seems to be some sort of compulsive, childlike enthusiasm created by the white, fluffy stuff. Still, it always seems miraculous to wake up to one big blanket of it.

My favorite thing to do is to go out in the middle of the night when it's snowing and walk around the streets of town. It has to be really, really quiet - so quiet you can hear the snow flakes fall on your head. It feels like you own the city.

This poem reminds me of my sister. She's turning fifteen (!) in a matter of days. I wonder how much longer she'll believe everything I tell her.

Snow - David Berman

Walking through a field with my little brother Seth

I pointed to a place where kids had made angels in the snow. 
For some reason, I told him that a troop of angels 
had been shot and dissolved when they hit the ground.

He asked who had shot them and I said a farmer.

Then we were on the roof of the lake. 
The ice looked like a photograph of water.

Why he asked. Why did he shoot them.

I didn't know where I was going with this.

They were on his property, I said.

When it's snowing, the outdoors seem like a room.

Today I traded hellos with my neighbor. 
Our voices hung close in the new acoustics. 
A room with the walls blasted to shreds and falling.

We returned to our shoveling, working side by side in silence.

But why were they on his property, he asked.

waterloo sunset

2009-01-30T06:21:00.020-06:00

Okay, long story short, I ventured up to London on Wednesday at my tutor's request to see this:

Manet's "The Execution of Maximillian"

and this:

Manet's "Music at the Tuileries" (which sadly wasn't hanging)

at the National Gallery.

At the Courtauld Gallery, I went and saw a personal fave, "Un bar aux Folies-Bergeres", which was absolutely stunning (of course).

The Courtauld Gallery was marvelous, a little out of the way and not as well known - I don't think. There were barely any people there when I visited. I was able to fully examine the works without feeling shuttled about.

My tutor related his whole life story to me and what little I remember is that he was some industrialist who collected all these amazing Impressionist works. They're all displayed now within the Somerset House. The Gallery itself reminds me quite a bit of the Neue Gallery in New York, partly because it's so deeply attached to a certain patron (the Lauders with the Neue) and also because it's displayed in this old, very grandiose house that nonetheless gives it a more intimate atmosphere. The only discrepancy was the floor; the wood boards were unpolished and creaked a lot. I don't know if it was a style statement, but it definitely felt odd in contrast to what was on the walls.

I also went to the National Portrait Gallery, which is one of my favorites, if only because I love portraits. (That's a horrendously obvious sentence, by the way.) They were display the Taylor Wessing Photographic Portrait Prize 2008, which "showcases the work of the most talented emerging young photographers, photography students and gifted amateurs alongside that of established professionals."

One of the loveliest was Hendrik Kersten's "Bag":

Which was meant as a commentary on our usage of plastic bags and also evoke the old Dutch masters. I think it most closely resembles a combo of Vermeer's "The Milkmaid" and "The Girl with the Pearl Earring":

They also were displaying Madeleine Waller's portraits of poets, which were rather unexceptional. I was just excited to read the poems attached. She had a portrait of one of the poets that I happened to be reading, Lemn Sissay, along with his wonderful "Love Poem". So simple - frugal, even - but it makes my heart skip. Love.

Love Poem, by Lemn Sissay

You remind me
define me
incline me.

If you died
I'd.

holla to the heartland!

2009-01-29T15:02:00.012-06:00

Two quick things before I head out:

1) Happy Kansas Day!
To celebrate, listen to Donna Fargo's lovelorn "Manhattan, Kansas".

I'm not entirely sure if the images are very representative of the song or the town itself, but it's amusing in its own way, kind of like "I will always love you, lions". Enjoy!

2) Went to London yesterday, where I wandered around like a sodden cream puff. Lots of museums, lots of food. Details to come!

EDIT:
By the way, you should all check out Maira Kalman's pictorial narrative of the inauguration. For those unfamiliar with Kalman, she's an artist who illustrated the Strunk and White's Elements of Style and often does covers for the New Yorker. She's also the author of some pretty stellar books, including the Max series and one of my favorite books, The Principles of Uncertainty .

it's all in the hat

2009-01-26T12:31:00.010-06:00

Does anyone remember the TV show "Blossom"?

I can't stream most of the TV shows I keep up with (30 Rock, Pushing Daisies, the omnipresent Gossip Girl) because of international copyrights and apparently if I access any of the illegal sites, I'll be kicked off the network. So I've been a loss at what to do with my time on quieter nights, outside of reading and consuming king-sized Cadbury bars (they're only a pound!).

Anyway, I finally discovered a LEGAL UK website that has a bunch of early 90s shows, none of which are really all that appealing...

Well, all except for "Blossom".
I've been keeping a running tab on her different hats in my journal. So good!

resolutions

2009-01-21T16:44:00.001-06:00

Also, my motto:

O to the BAMA

2009-01-21T14:01:00.017-06:00

Nothing much to report on. I'm constantly exhausted - I don't know if it's because of jet lag (still???) or because I've been walking so, so, so much. I'm determined to get a bike...

Except that I'm terrified of Oxford traffic.

Celebrated the inauguration last night by going to King's Arms after the ceremony(K.A., for those in the know!). Got more than a little emotional when they swore him into office. It was a really strange experience watching it with a bunch of British students, but not in a bad way. I think the was a sense of perspective that they brought to proceedings. Alas, there just wasn't the same crazy energy as I'm sure it was like back in the states.

Katie, I know we're not supposed to be going there, but my friend Jenny and I are rapidly and obnoxiously making friends with all the bartenders there. Last night we got a free pint! BEN2!

Other than that, it's just been a LOT of reading. I'm reading Robinson Crusoe right now for my Postcolonial Lit tutorial and several books on Manet and Haussman's Paris for my Art History. As soon as I have some energy, I'll explain how this fandangled tutorial system works. Basically, I have to write a 7-12 pg paper for my primary each week, and one for my secondary every other week. Needless to say, it's going to take some getting used to for such a slow writer like me.

Today I went to an Art lecture on Naturalism and the Third Republic, which coincides nicely with what I've been studying in my AH tutorial. It's the first in a series of lectures, and definitely the first of one of the many lectures throughout Oxford that I'm extremely excited about! The professor has the most beautiful elocution and it's in the Natural History Museum, which is gorgeous. I'll remember to take pics next week!

Actual pictures will hopefully happen soon. I haven't been taking many sadly, but there's a college "fancy dress" party this weekend. They're called "Entz" and supposedly incredibly racous. I'll report back. It's circus-themed this time around - what should I dress up as? Hopefully something offensive as possible.

PS:

I want this scarf - AMERICA!

This is what writing a paper at Oxford looks like:

2009-01-18T18:50:00.017-06:00

1. Sit down at my desk and clear the clementine peels.
2. Read a secondary source and take notes, then stop halfway through.
3. Go to the kitchen to make a cup of Nescafe.
4. Come back and "take a break" by reading entirety of the NY Times Style section.
5. Stare at my paper and finally type a sentence.
6. Rearrange said sentence more attractively.
7. Peruse the thesaurus.
8. Stare at the paper; move previously typed sentence to a different part of the paragraph.
9. Pace around the room, picking up clothes.
10. Eat a clementine.
11. Take another break and go out for a walk; get annoyed at judgmental swans.
12. Come back and stare at the paper.
13. Finally give in and read more Shakespeare.
14. Type a quotation. Satisfied.
15. Go to rinse out my mug in the kitchen.
16. Recheck the NYTimes and various blogs for updates.
17. Frustrated that nothing has been updated, obsessively check Facebook instead.
18. Delete a sentence.
19. Realize that thesis doesn't make sense and write a new one.
20. Overenthusiastically cultivate active hatred towards Shakespeare and tutor. Create elaborate fantasies involving piercing them on a college spire/drowning in the Thames.
21. Freak out about how unprepared I'll be for tomorrow's tutorial and calm myself down by eating a cookie and rearranging the pictures on my wall.
22. Wonder if I have ADHD.
23. Repeat.

The one where I pretend to care about Shakespeare

2009-01-18T14:34:00.017-06:00

Okay, so term hasn't even started yet (tomorrow!) but already I've been crazy busy, so I won't be able to write much this time either. There are so many things to tell: my fake-British tutor who's actually from Appalachia, Ben the Bartender - my first British "friend", my room overlooking the Thames, and my overenthusiastic embrace of street food in all its greasy glory. (Eww- ME, ME, ME)

All will come in due time. Perhaps when I don't have a paper on The Tempest (UGH) assigned two days ago and due tomorrow! Wish me luck!

Until then, here's my address if you feel so inclined to send me love/money/Adderall/yourself:

C/O The Porter's Lodge
St Catherine's College
Manor Road
Oxford
OX1 3UJ
United Kingdom

Just don't send me food - my overeating has returned ever since I moved into my room. The ubiquity of salt and vinegar chips and Bueno bars is going to be the downfall of me.

Oh, and comment! Surely some of you are reading this... right?!?

here, there, everywhere

2009-01-15T17:01:00.002-06:00

I'm in Oxford and finally moved in to the room where I will be living in! I don't know where to begin... so I won't.

I'll update soon enough with real content, but for now, allow me go huddle in a corner.

Packing Saga, Pt. 56

2009-01-10T00:09:00.013-06:00

I'm ALMOST done with packing, which I think is about the hardest part... right?

Everyone tells me that I'll buy a ton of stuff there so I'm trying not to bring a lot, but it's difficult to decide what's essential and what's non-essential.

Case in point:

My lacquered wood portrait of Burt Reynolds that I found at a garage sale back in high school and that has since followed me EVERYWHERE (yes, including NYC). After much deliberation and heartache, I've decided not to bring him along. It's especially upsetting because apparently mustaches are making a comeback, but I think it's time we spent some time apart...

I'll miss you, Burt!

It's been strangely awkward telling people that I'm going to Oxford because:

1) I'm never sure if I should assume people know where Oxford is
2) And therefore feel the need to preface with "England"
4) I feel really pretentious stating it
5) I still feel like I'm a little undeserving

So when they say, "Oh, you must be so excited!", my reply is usually incredibly mundane. But I am excited! Promise!

Shalom, suckas! See ya in England!

And suddenly, reality

2009-01-08T23:18:00.001-06:00

It's strange being able to check to see how the weather forecast in England will affect me.

Waaaarrrrrriiiorsss, come out to pla-ay!

2009-01-06T18:16:00.012-06:00

I'm back in Lawrence one last time, but that's besides the point. What I'm really interested in is a '70s movie called "The Warriors". My friend Tyler introduced me to this "cult classic" and needless to say, I am completely hooked.

Here's a synopsis from IMDB:
"A gang called The Warriors are framed for killing a gang leader trying to unite all the gangs in the area. With other gangs gunning for them they must get back to the home turf of Coney Island... Alive."

And the trailer:

I liked spotting all the NYC locales (CONEEEEY), but what's really amazing to see are the different gangs and their colours, all of which are over-the-top amazing. I would (MAYBE!) join a gang to have an excuse to wear some of these things. Okay, not really.

Tyler's favorite gang is the Baseball Furies who are CREEPY as hell.

Mine?

I'm in love with the dudes with the sparkly, purple vests or the mimes in black-and-red striped shirts and top hats (sorry... couldn't find pics). I'd really love to see a NY map of each of the rival gangs' territories.

Seriously- it's amazing.

If that weren't inducement enough, here's a Lego re-enactment of one of the more famous scenes:

EDIT: Also, one of the actors has since been in "Sex and the City" and "Ratatouille"! Brilliant!

PS. this is what I'll be listening to on the plane

2009-01-04T01:34:00.000-06:00

Neon Neon, "Raquel"

Also,

2008-12-29T17:04:00.002-06:00

I'm rewatching Brideshead Revisited on my computer for maybe the hundredth time? Honestly, the novel by Evelyn Waugh was how I first got interested in Oxford waaaaay back in the 7th grade. It's gorgeous and decadent and hilarious. Now, I know my experience won't be anything like this:
But it's nice to imagine anyway. Ideally, this is what my room would look like:

Anyway, back to packing.

ida-ho-ho-ho

2008-12-29T16:03:00.000-06:00

Well, I'm back from Idaho. To be honest, I was reluctant to go. As much as I love traveling, I hate the process of traveling and Christmas - in my opinion - should be spent safely at home overeating and fighting with your family. But there was plenty of lounging (I invested in my first pair of sweatpants! Ugh?!) and too much overeating. I'm thinking of starting a strict regimen of steamed vegetables and rice... as soon as I finish eating all of my Christmas chocolates.

Also, I discovered several advantages that Idaho has over Kansas:

1. White Christmases (!)
2. The Potato Museum (!!!)
3. Proximity to Yellowstone:

Amazing! We drove around Yellowstone in these old snow mobile-type vehicles (I think their name started with a B?) from Quebec - ours was named Cygnet! I'd been to Yellowstone before during the summer, but winter was obviously a completely different experience.

(the vehicles that start with "B)

So I still prefer Kansas. (Though saying you prefer Kansas over anything sounds strange... like saying you prefer iceberg lettuce over everything else at the salad bar.)

Still, Idaho was lovely. Lots of movies watched (Indiana Jones!) and books read (finally finished The Midnight Children!) and chocolates eaten. And now that I have a functioning camera, I can take all sorts of pictures! Photo OVERLOAD!

However, I spent half of it having panic attacks about my passport, of which I had failed to locate before leaving. Half of my dreams while in Idaho consisted of me being denied entry and being shipped to a slave labor camp in Burma. Thankfully, after much rummaging this morning, I located it amidst the mess of things I've brought home from Lawrence.

THANK.

GOD.

Anyway, I've started the process of packing, which actually just means trying on all of my clothes. So, not really.

But I dug a suitcase out of the basement. I'm starting out big and then slowly downsizing until I've reached optimal minimalism.

(It has a flower and "Paris" on it - how European!)

Oh! And I also got a backpack for backpacking (duh) this summer. I'm borrowing it from the people we stayed with and it's perfect. I'll keep you updated about packing as I go along (fascinating!).

In(spiration)troductions

2008-12-21T23:36:00.000-06:00

Hello, hello, hello -

Instead of resuscitating my poor old, dilapidated blog, I've decided to start a new one to chronicle my adventures overseas. Because for our generation, every new endeavor requires a new blog and I would never stray from the pack. Who knows? I might even be able to pound out more than a couple of entries.

In less than a month, I will be going to study abroad at the University of Oxford in Oxford, England.

Photo from here.
(This is what Oxford looks like in my head right now... really foggy and kind of anxiety-inducing.)

Somehow, typing it out makes it more real than it has been for the past couple of months.

Later, I'll go into more detail about everything. Hopefully.

Originally I planned on naming my blog after this poem. But what if I wanted to continue the blog after I got back? It'd be such a problem, right? So I read some more and I came across something a little less... obvious?

Anyway, I like egg salad (I know... gross) and this poem. Also, I'm probably going to be posting about food a lot (because of a food studies research project I'm doing) so it seemed how make sense. Perhaps it's pretentious to name your blog after a poem and I don't actually make a lot of marginalia in my own books.

But, hey! Listen!

I do what I want. Enjoy.

Marginalia - Billy Collins

Sometimes the notes are ferocious,
skirmishes against the author
raging along the borders of every page
in tiny black script.
If I could just get my hands on you,
Kierkegaard, or Conor Cruise O'Brien,
they seem to say,
I would bolt the door and beat some logic into your head.

Other comments are more offhand, dismissive -
"Nonsense." "Please!" "HA!!" -
that kind of thing.
I remember once looking up from my reading,
my thumb as a bookmark,
trying to imagine what the person must look like
why wrote "Don't be a ninny"
alongside a paragraph in The Life of Emily Dickinson.

Students are more modest
needing to leave only their splayed footprints
along the shore of the page.
One scrawls "Metaphor" next to a stanza of Eliot's.
Another notes the presence of "Irony"
fifty times outside the paragraphs of A Modest Proposal.

Or they are fans who cheer from the empty bleachers,
Hands cupped around their mouths.
"Absolutely," they shout
to Duns Scotus and James Baldwin.
"Yes." "Bull's-eye." "My man!"
Check marks, asterisks, and exclamation points
rain down along the sidelines.

And if you have managed to graduate from college
without ever having written "Man vs. Nature"
in a margin, perhaps now
is the time to take one step forward.

We have all seized the white perimeter as our own
and reached for a pen if only to show
we did not just laze in an armchair turning pages;
we pressed a thought into the wayside,
planted an impression along the verge.

Even Irish monks in their cold scriptoria
jotted along the borders of the Gospels
brief asides about the pains of copying,
a bird signing near their window,
or the sunlight that illuminated their page-
anonymous men catching a ride into the future
on a vessel more lasting than themselves.

And you have not read Joshua Reynolds,
they say, until you have read him
enwreathed with Blake's furious scribbling.

Yet the one I think of most often,
the one that dangles from me like a locket,
was written in the copy of Catcher in the Rye
I borrowed from the local library
one slow, hot summer.
I was just beginning high school then,
reading books on a davenport in my parents' living room,
and I cannot tell you
how vastly my loneliness was deepened,
how poignant and amplified the world before me seemed,
when I found on one page

A few greasy looking smears
and next to them, written in soft pencil-
by a beautiful girl, I could tell,
whom I would never meet-
"Pardon the egg salad stains, but I'm in love."

- Billy Collins