a sense of humour

"i think you're the one," he said.

"really?" she said.

"yeah, i think you're the one."

"what?"

"well, someone was going to get me chocolate, and i think you're the one," he answered.

dear winter

thank you for my new flannelette shirt. it makes me look like a logger and i don't mind one tiny bit.

i'm off to chop up wood for the roaring fire inside.

sharing stories

beautiful words make me happy.

Date a Girl Who Reads by Rosemarie Urquico 

Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas, and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by God, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes.

i found this here http://or-so-i-feel.blogspot.com/

dr. diver on good manners

"Good manners are an admission that everybody is so tender that they have to be handled with gloves. Now, human respect - you don't call a man a coward or a liar lightly, but if you spend your life sparing people's feelings and feeding their vanity, you get so can't distinguish what should be respected in them."

from Tender is the Night by F. Scott Fitzgerald

curly fries and apple strudel

tonight i spent a quiet evening with my beautiful laura. we shared curly fries and played strange food related board games. and while i was gone, my love made homemade apple strudel. oh my i feel very lucky to have two such wonderful people around me.

an anniversary gift

thanks baby x

mine

one year with a dance at mighty, a first kiss outside nic-nacs, cold evenings of too clovey mulled wine, all the beards and then suddenly non-beards, one long summer and a winter of late night banoffee pie.

i'm yours. thank you for being mine x

the letter x

i found an entire alphabet to give you a kiss.

wallpaper

 the flocked wallpaper co-ordinate design in the 'my dear arthur' collection

i wrote...

An energetic pattern inspired by 1950s vintage print design.

Offset and elongated abstract shapes create a dynamic and lively design. A sense of the theatrical is explored with a play between the static shapes and the movement created through layering. The rich olive flock contrasts to the soft reddened navy and a tinted metallic pearl offers a subtle sophistication.

Add a sense of nostalgia, that’s rich, playful and warm!

my dear arthur

this has been my entire world all year. a lovely fabric inspired by arthur street in wellingtons central city. there have been many tears but i love it.

a screen-printed linen fabric with an all over complex repeat design (not that i will never forget those words).

a shopping list

the boy i love loves writing lists.

admiration

He uses 'forest green' from the tube and he doesn't give a fuck.




i've been reflecting on a self-portrait by an old friend. i think it's a really genuine portrait, moving, inspiring and a little uncomfortable to look at. the use of both colour and media is beautiful, unusual and challenging. how he mixed the paint? is unimportant. it took me six years to notice. so who does give a fuck.

a collection of words

somehow when i see this collection of words

pitter patter goes the rain

i adore you. the way you always arrive so unexpectedly. i love listening to you on the roof and trickling down the windows. with cold fingers in my pockets. you're a wonderful excuse for a pretty umbrella, gloves and a heavy wool coat.
with you, i love a warm cup of tea, a chocolate biscuit or two and quiet conversations about wet socks. and i want to thank you for the way you allow me to sleep in. late. oh so very late.

in half an inch

last friday i lost myself. i'd be loosing myself for sometime. i had forgotten all about taking evening walks. reading a book for enjoyment. celebrating little achievements. attending the birthday plans of old friends. sharing stories over a beer. having a quite coffee. resting. sleeping. laughing.
and so i want to say thank you. to everyone. i am grateful that it is you i have around me. even when i have been swallowed up. when i have not seen you for weeks. you are still there. and you are there again when i am found.

yes.

and here is a quote from Holly's pencil.


And yes I said yes I will Yes.


                                 - James Joyce

my love

i am writing you a letter in indian ink with a pen with a nib.

love x

in the evening

please come. and take me away with you.

to dance

i found this on a very beautiful blog. i needed to keep it somewhere. to put it in a safe place. so i can return to it again and again.

 
it is choreographed by bret easterling. the music is die alone by ingrid michaelson. the dancers are from julliard. i found it here http://or-so-i-feel.blogspot.com/

flight

 

i miss your face next to mine. drawing with my fingers on your skin. listening to the sound of you. breathing. mumbling. my legs all tangled around yours as you fall asleep first. and the warmth of you making me always a little too warm.