It’s been a passage of time since the last entry – I use ‘passage’ as it seems as though so much has happened, romping through the good times like a little joyous foal! It is my country’s National Day and so I hear little children singing songs in the background, and I remember my childhood days swinging little flags.
I met up with S and A last week in Arab Street- and fell in love with the stranger streets, the way we could slip up to a random restaurant and find Morrocan lamb dishes with all sorts of tea that taste like the same apple concoction. A rendered us with beautiful stories of Nepal and trekking. She also introduced me to Yasunori Kawabata, a Nobel prize winner in literature pretty much unknown to me, but the poignant titles stir a little something in me of many things said in very little words. S’s conception of beauty is newly bound up in a mermaid, and we talked about living in Japan and hiding away. These are two of the people I love the most in the world – and listening to the soft curls of A’s laughter (”kikikiki”) and the clip of her bangles (Scottish, even if they are ethnic, she says) seems to stir something magical. It feels sometimes that the time spent in between meeting such people as A and S is sleeping time – and the secret part of me awakes again in a dream. There is a little of the past – Celine Dion plays in the background as I dabble in some source and observe the little plate of dates and the shopowner seems to have emerged from an Asterix/Obelix comic / and yet the feeling is modern familiarity, things have changed but I am not able to discuss how and in what manner, and all we can do is share a hint of stories that have shaped who we have came to be.
A says I follow her like le’ detective and I seem more curious about people moving through streets. But I love the soft warm orange highlights of the night and the streets which I do not know. The shadows mimic a little film noir adventure. So many things are closed at night and yet they run their own stories in the morning, and it has been this way for years.
J drove me past his old home, a little shophouse, recently. I imagined him as a boy, climbing up and down the stairs, and looking down from the window, of him running away from the vacumn cleaner. He has always told me that he felt that he had lost his childhood, and when I look up the window, I think of years passed with that impish face pressing against the window.
We trooped into a little shophouse because the shopowner told us to. There were little Aladdin-esque corners with rainbow cushions and elaborate carpets, and people smoking shisha in a decadent sort of way. You take off your shoes and lose yourself.
An adorable idea, Spineless Classics’ new series of posters, which squeeze an entire novel into a single poster. DailyCandy did an adorable version of ‘benefits’ you will obtain from using these:
1. The tomes (Pride and Prejudice, The Great Gatsby and Romeo and Juliet, to name a few) are impossible to put down. Therefore, it’s more convenient to have them mounted.
2. Staring at the wall becomes an interesting and informative pastime.
3. No one will ever question whether you’re well read. It’s obvious.
4. At approximately 50-by-70 or 100-by-70 centimetres, every story is a tall tale.
5. When was the last time you used a bookmark?
6. Detract from the, um, less intellectual reads on your shelves (see: Why Men Love Bitches, The Twilight Saga).
7. And, finally, you can stop being one of those people who judges a book by its cover.
I discovered JKL on Etsy recently and am a fan of her artwork and designs. Would love to do up an apartment with her art! Her photographs and artwork almost have my living signature on them. Je t’adore.
Also the photography series:
So, WS and I were discussing on the Tour de France which is going on now, which is a 3400km bike race through France. Part of the race takes place at the Pyrenees, which is absolutely gorgeous. But it also reminded of this little snippet of greek mythology:
“In classical mythology, Pyrene is a princess who gave her name to the Pyrenees. The Greek historian Herodotus says Pyrene is the name of a town in Celtic Europe. According to Silius Italicus, she was the virginal daughter of Bebryx, a king in Mediterranean Gaul by whom the hero Hercules was given hospitality during his quest to steal the cattle of Geryon during his famous Labors. Hercules, characteristically drunk and lustful, violates the sacred code of hospitality and rapes his host’s daughter. Pyrene gives birth to a serpent and runs away to the woods, afraid that her father will be angry. Alone, she pours out her story to the trees, attracting the attention instead of wild beasts who tear her to pieces.
After his victory over Geryon, Hercules passes through the kingdom of Bebryx again, finding the girl’s lacerated remains. As is often the case in stories of this hero, the sober Hercules responds with heartbroken grief and remorse at the actions of his darker self, and lays Pyrene to rest tenderly, demanding that the surrounding geography join in mourning and preserve her name: “struck by Herculean voice, the mountaintops shudder at the ridges; he kept crying out with a sorrowful noise ‘Pyrene!’ and all the rock-cliffs and wild-beast haunts echo back ‘Pyrene!’ … The mountains hold on to the wept-over name through the ages.” Pliny the Elder connects the story of Hercules and Pyrene to Lusitania, but rejects it as fabulosa, highly fictional.”
“The world of Jamie Laubhan-Oliver and Larry Oliver is very black and white. Every Saturday, following a proper breakfast prepared by patient and kind Larry, the duo set course for estate sales all over town. Jamie is compulsive about hitting every single one and handling every item. “Once I get her to the sales, she blacks out and doesn’t remember any of the inventory that currently sits in our garage,” Larry says. “I love the thrill of the hunt and finding that amazing piece for a dollar,” Jamie retorts. “A friend of mine once said that you never regret the things you buy—just the ones you don’t.” It’s safe to say that Jamie has few regrets. “
I see my future house in this pictures. Absolutely breathtaking. I always declared I wanted a monochromatic home, and this is it.
Haven’t posted these photos from sometime back, a load to catch up on!
Visited the Ma Maison katsu outlet in Mandarin Gallery on the day of the Topshop event, and I love the quaint homely feel of the restaurant. The curry katsu don was lovely and the oysters were such a treat! The place was so cosy and I could sip on my root beer float and look at quirky japanese pig pictures all day.
I want to try my hand at drawing…chalk pig!!
A little dessert to sweeten the soul.
From the Topshop bloggers event – I love Shane’s entry, he’s really cute and nice in person.
I’m crazy about Topshop polishes. I know they are not good for the nails, but who else makes funky colours like industrial blue and retro mustard?
Love this collection. But so pricey.
And guess who I met at the event!
Images from thehoneybear, viaoncherie, vogue weekend, buttermilk blue,1923 we heart it