AWAKE with the NIGHTINGALE
On the fringes of Bohemia
In the still before the dawn
A dusting of flour, a sprinkle of sugar
Autumn on the rise
anthropologie | october 2014
PSA: $2.50 off this 25-count bucket of almond chocolate biscotti at Costco — ends 9/28 (Sunday!!!)
We got one earlier this month, and I’ve made a big dent in it already.
Got two more buckets today…
Happy (early) #FattyFriday!
he poured salt on my wounds
- me: PHARRELL IS ON THE NEW SEASON OF THE VOICE.
- Allin: duh
- he's great.
- you missed 2 episodes
- me: already?!
- you watch?!
- AND YOU DID NOT TELL ME
- Allin: yes
- so like i forgot you love him
- me: BOO
- USELESS, AS MY BROTHER WOULD SAY
- i will catch up and start watching
- Allin: maybe
- you're just
- not a true fan.
- of pharrell
It’s been a hard year for “being a bad Pharrell fan”. The man was everywhere. But compared to those groovy days in high school and early college — when I had N.E.R.D. on repeat while shelving books at the library, when I attended my first concert ever (it was N.E.R.D.), and then my second (also N.E.R.D.) — I’ve been a bad fan recently.
Yet even as I pay less and less attention to what music I listen to (sad story for another time), I can count on Pharrell’s impeccable style to pull me back into the fandom every other day.
Like today, when I discovered him on the cover of this month’s WSJ. magazine. And learned a few new things. He has a wife?! And a 5 y.o. son!? He’s on the new season of The Voice?! Where have I been, seriously.
A few parts I loved from the piece —
Pharrell’s conversation occasionally veers into runic New Age–speak, though it embarrasses him to have this pointed out. His comments have the tidy, affirmative style of a life coach: “Go inward, so that you can go onward and then upward,” he says. At other times they sound like echoes of an ayahuasca trip: “The movie of life is a kaleidoscopic time lapse of co-creation.”
It’s tempting to regard all this as a deft obfuscation, a clever way to keep his personal life out of view. And yet Pharrell glimmers with something like a sense of enlightenment. “It took me a minute to find my purpose,” he says. “I knew something was missing, and then I realized, OK, you’re able to make music; now you have to inject purpose. I want to make music with something extra to it—a holistic property. I want to make it feelgood. I’m not the only one doing this. Kendrick Lamar’s music feels amazing. Adele’s music feels amazing. Alicia [Keys]’s new album feels amazing. The distinction between sounding amazing and feeling amazing—that’s the thing. People, I think, are looking for a feeling.”
Rei Kawakubo, Comme des Garçon’s founder and designer, is one of Pharrell’s idols, and she inhabits a pantheon that includes Koons, Walt Disney, Coco Chanel, Takashi Murakami and Stevie Wonder—artists united by a rigorous utopianism, if little else. “These are people,” Pharrell explains, “who had epiphanies and then did something with them. As I see it, you can live two ways. You can live life the way you always imagined it would play out, or you can try to make the thing you dream of making. If you choose the second, get ready for an amazing ride. That’s the ride I’m on.”
suddenly* want to start illustrating…
*not so sudden: flipped through old sketchbook with illustrations for high school literary magazine…
(why do i feel like my creativity and work ethic peaked in high school)
(NO, I REFUSE)
I went on a walk around town today and on a whim decided to pick up a journal (actually it’s just a fancy composition notebook).
"Journal hunt" has been on my to-do list for a while now… And knowing how I am when I’m "on the market" for something, I’m never going to pick one. The marketplace is too kind (and too cruel) to us.
This one fits the bill. College-ruled. Lays flat. Fun cover.
The last time I hand-wrote regularly was during middle school. I’ve since re-read that thing a few times — and can say with confidence that 90 percent of it was about boys. Singer boys. Actor boys. Tennis boys. IRL boys. Hearts all over. Stereotypical stuff.
I wrote my first entry in the new journal today. So far no boys — and even when a certain boy does make an appearance, it won’t be the same. I’m no longer gushing from afar. This person is in my life and we’re deeply invested.
That’s one big change of the last ten years.
Too good to be true?
Though I’d indulged in a fair share of young adult fantasy and grown-up fluffy romance fiction titles over the years, I was always most attracted to what I found in the non-fiction shelves. Books that would explain how one specific slice of the world worked and why — something about Google, something about food, something about China as a world superpower.
Upon reading a part that’s fantastically detailed and gripping, I’d think to myself — wow, how could the author be so precise? Was there someone frantically recording things in a notepad 24/7?
Nevertheless, I would count myself in the mass of readers who believe non-fiction books are the most reliable media sources out there.
Apparently, we are mistaken. Here, two recent articles discuss the lack of fact-checking in the non-fiction genre.
“A lot of readers have the perception that when something arrives as a book, it’s gone through a more rigorous fact-checking process than a magazine or a newspaper or a website, and that’s simply not that case,” Silverman said. He attributes this in part to the physical nature of a book: Its ink and weight imbue it with a sense of significance unlike that of other mediums.
— “Book Publishing, Not Fact-Checking" | The Atlantic
The book spun out lurid tales that collapsed with just a phone call or two. Without much effort, I found nine people named in the book or known to have been involved in events mentioned in the book, including the legendary actor Cary Grant, who was once married to Hutton. All disputed Heymann’s account. One example: Heymann claimed that in 1965 Hutton was flown from Mexico to San Francisco Presbyterian Hospital, where Dr. Lawrence Nash treated her with “a nutritious soybean protein mixture” and warm Coca-Cola to wean her off alcohol. The hospital told me that no doctor by that name had ever worked there and that no such treatment would have been allowed.
Hmm, makes me feel itchy inside. Books, all the books, I trusted you!
How often do you google a word (or phrase) to make sure it’s real/not made up/means what you think it means/has been used by others in a similar way?
I do it too much.
How then is it possible that I am a writer and am pursuing it professionally?
How can I even be original if I need so much assurance?
As someone who struggles at being critical (I swear 97.5 percent of my movie reviews for the college paper were 4 out of 5 stars), it brings me great joy to say this “revitalizing eye treatment” from Juice Organics is a zero-ambivalence no bueno.
It’s but one member of my mother’s ever-growing potpourri of seems-like-a-good-deal purchases from TJ Maxx and Marshall’s. (No wonder TJX — parent company of those two, plus Home Goods— is outpacing profit forecasts, killin’ it while other retailers are limping)
Anyways. The cream goes on fine at first — my skin feels firmer almost immediately. After a while though, the product itself (not my skin, thank god) starts peeling, so you get an onslaught of white residue.
A quick google search reveals that other customers have had similar experiences. Although it appears that this is a discontinued product (ohitallmakessensenow) and a newer version may not have the peeling problem.
I guess the moral of the story is to be judicious/practice self-control at TJX stores (herro, mommy!) But really, I just wanted to practice criticizing something, anything.