It’s Friday in both lives but I’m here and I’ve got balloons and a festive headband and no party. Isn’t it date night or something? I should have some occupation, something to DO this evening. But I don’t. Continue reading
I had more planned for this blog post. I was going to write about reading and quote Edmund Wilson who said “No two persons ever read the same book,” but for some reason, Oscar is insisting on laying across my forearms while I type, obscuring the bottom half of the screen, and meowing in irritation when I hit enter, and making this a chore. I have pushed him aside a few times, but he returns immediately, so this post will be pictures and credits and it’s all Oscar’s fault.
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It’s been a hard working fashiony night for this girl. It’s not easy standing around looking pensive, or sultry, or pithy, or whatever it is I’m trying to appear. This is serious business. Continue reading
What do you do on a day that a great man dies? When you wake up and the world is less one artist, one incredible voice and talent?
You get up and do the things you were supposed to do that day, because despite the gaping hole in the universe that is suddenly left you aren’t the one who left and you have things to do. Continue reading
It was way past midnight
And she still couldn’t fall asleep
The night the dream was leaving
she tried so hard to keep Continue reading
Even the Grinch would have a nice ass in Blueberry shorts or jeans. .
Some of us are dipped in flat,
some in satin,
some in glass,
but every once in a while,
you find someone who’s
iridescent,
And once you do,
nothing will ever compare.
Wendelin Van Dramen, Flipped
Collabor88 opened at midnight with an exciting and fun new theme–Holographic! So their catalog is filled with opalescence, iridescence, and opulent fabrics. Blueberry released a top and belted shorts. They come with HUDs to offer an amazing range of options.
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Having a bit of a work day today with these new chair props from Purple Poses at COLLABOR88 this month. They’re fun, a great blogging accessory so bloggers, put these on your MUST HAVE list. Continue reading
Mark Twain once said a classic is “a book which people praise and don’t read.” I don’t think that is true. Most of the people I know have read many of the classics and the reason they remain classics is they are great stories. Many classics can be downloaded for free from Amazon and for Christmas this year, I put together a list of books I recommend that are free.
There are classics in design, too, such as the knife-pleats that make up the skirt in this beautiful dress from Gizza. Another classic, the empire waist, the inset belt at the waist and the rich embroidery on the bodice. However, the great thing with fashion is taking the classics and combining them into something new and Gizza succeeds at that.
I figured that a perfect place to shoot a classic dress might be at the Parthenon, the pinnacle of classical Greek architecture, so I headed off to Greece, the sim, part of a cluster of islands celebrating Greek culture. They do not allow scripts, so be sure you are as you wish to be before you land.
I’m working this morning, formally working in the little studio I’ve set up behind my house. I used the skybox from Ariskea from the December round of the Arcade, at only 3o something prims it was perfect. I just want a place to work, where the cats aren’t chasing me about. Continue reading
I stopped by Eternal Flame, a sim with a spare, ascetic ambiance of bitter winter, because it will be closed to the public soon. It made me think of T.S. Eliot’s Little Gidding, part of his Four Quartets that secured for him the Nobel Prize in Literature. He wrote this after his conversation and the poem itself is very much a religious poem, but much of it still speaks to me.
When the short day is brightest, with frost and fire,
The brief sun flames the ice, on pond and ditches,
In windless cold that is the heart’s heat,
Reflecting in a watery mirror
A glare that is blindness in the early afternoon.
And glow more intense than blaze of branch, or brazier,
Stirs the dumb spirit: no wind, but pentecostal fire
In the dark time of the year. Between melting and freezing
The soul’s sap quivers. There is no earth smell
Or smell of living thing. This is the spring time
But not in time’s covenant. Now the hedgerow
Is blanched for an hour with transitory blossom
Of snow, a bloom more sudden
Than that of summer, neither budding nor fading,
Not in the scheme of generation.
Where is the summer, the unimaginable Zero summer?
The poem seems apt for this bright and sunny New Year’s Day, especially the lines from the second section of the poem, “For last year’s words belong to last year’s language
And next year’s words await another voice.” Do I have a new language for this new year? I wonder…