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Sunday, January 12, 2014

Belts



I've realized that I am an avid collector of things. I have countless bags, among them a garish blue and a crazy red faux leather suitcase. I LOVE bags. I also collect trinkets and jewelry. It seems that my room has slowly been morphing into something between a specialty store and a mini library.

And I also have belts. A lot of belts.


-- Carol

Tuesday, December 3, 2013

New Hair during Rush Hour



De músico, poeta y loco, todos tenemos un poco
Of musician, poet and madman we all have our measure


I bought one kg of sweet cherry from an old man in the street. I gave it to Adam. I just burst into the shop, dropped the bag on his lap and rushed out right after that.

"Thank you very much," he managed to say and rushed out after me with a broad grin on his face and my hat in his hand. He handed me the hat and rushed right back.

Sunday, November 24, 2013

Pobby and Dingan




"The secret of an opal's color lies not in its substance but in its absences." 
Australian Geographic, 1998


Pobby and Dingan is a story of two invisible friends and a piece of precious stone by Ben Rice. At first glance, I found the book a bit boring. And then something made me keep reading it. When I finished the book, I didn't want the story to end so I went back and read the whole thing all over again.


I've never owned a precious stone, but I played with the idea that the piece of plastic on the thrifted macramé belt was actually brown opal. I thought about how talented Ben Rice must be to write such a story, his very first work that not only won a couple of awards but was also made into a movie.


Later, I made a small inventory of some of my invisible friends: those I haven't heard from for a long time and some friendly folks I've never even met. It made me realize that Pobby and Dingan is one of the most heartwarming stories I've ever read. 


Sunday, November 3, 2013

Happy Belated Halloween!



The ghost flew out of the closet through the open door wearing the blue bed sheet I ironed yesterday.
 

 "Where do you think you are flying?" I asked.

She just stared at me and said nothing. With shaking hands, I got the camera and took a picture of her. She was gone the next minute. The only sign she left behind was the crumpled sheet lying on the floor.

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

The Guys up Above My Head






Our roof had a leak. I had to call the roofers to fix it. They came early in the morning. There was much shouting and stomping and bumping and banging in the attic that lasted for hours. At one point I thought that they were going to fall through the ceiling and land on my head. 

"The battle between Rome and Sparta," shouted one of them while banging with his hammer.

"Rome and what?" shouted the other.

"I have to look up that battle," I thought.

They did a stellar job. When the rain comes the drops won't find their way through the ceiling and tap on the top of my head. As for their personal style? Nothing particular, really. They wore tattered jeans and some really old sweatshirts. 
The neighbor said that they were originally from Gythium. 

Photo by Carol


Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Out of Focus




I attended a fashion show last week. It was a modest event with few participants. The theme was the little black dress. Watching the show, I caught myself paying more attention to the movements of the models than the actual outfits. See my favorite dress, the body hugging one-piece that looked like a two-piece, on the picture above.

Later that week, I watched a couple of segments of New York Fashion Week. I was delighted to learn about the First Ever Plus-Sized Show. It made me think just how far our concept of beauty has evolved. I think the human body with its complexity and constant changes is such an ephemeral phenomenon that it's a small wonder in itself. Visiting New York Fashion Week would be a dream come true for me. If I could make it there one day, I'd love to see more new presenters including some of the models from Advanced Style. I've been pulling for them for years. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to realize that it's just a matter of time and I'll turn into one of them.

Dear New York Fashion Week Organizers, if you are reading this, please make room for the Advanced Style Ladies next time. Thanks.


Saturday, August 17, 2013

Dummy Song Lyrics




I'll take the legs from some old table
I'll take the arms from some old chair
I'll take the neck from some old bottle
And from a horse I'll take the hair


I'll take the hands and face from some old clock
And baby, when I'm through
I'll get more loving from the dum, dum, dummy
Than I ever got from you

I get more loving
From that dum, dum, dummy
Than I've ever gotten from you
Yeah, mama, get more loving
From a dummy than I get from you


Read more: Louis Armstrong - Dummy Song Lyrics | MetroLyrics 


As I was listening to the song, I was reminded that I haven't updated the blog for ages. Well, here it is. Carol is wearing a blue scarf, a blue summer dress, and copper bracelets.