Saturday, March 28, 2009


Welp.  Moving out, moving up.  This week has been dragging on, but it's official; tomorrow I leave on my one-way out of LAX.  To kick off the weekend, here are a few noteworthy's:

My kind of math
Black and white stripes
Kathryn's tried/true rant on being a writer and wanting a space to do it in
Sweet Allie and her ebullient blog
What is it with me and cocktail napkins
Photography so lovely, each print feels like a deep breath

I am off to the Nail Bar for a bit of an indulgent mani/pedi.  It's a going away gift from myself.  Life is good.  After, I'm going to take a bite out of a very large, metropolitan apple.  See you in NY!

[image via yvette inufio]

Friday, March 27, 2009

jeffrey mcdaniel

Reminiscing in the drizzle of Portland, I notice
the ring that’s landed on your finger, a massive
insect of glitter, a chandelier shining at the end

of a long tunnel. Thirteen years ago, you hid the hurt
in your voice under a blanket and said there’s two kinds
of women—

those you write poems about
and those you don’t. It’s true. I never brought you
a bouquet of sonnets, or served you haiku in bed.
My idea of courtship was tapping Jane’s Addiction

lyrics in Morse code on your window at three A.M.,
whiskey doing push-ups on my breath. But I worked
within the confines of my character, cast

as the bad boy in your life, the Magellan
of your dark side. We don’t have a past so much
as a bunch of electricity and liquor, power

never put to good use. What we had together
makes it sound like a virus, as if we caught
one another like colds, and desire was merely

a symptom that could be treated with soup
and lots of sex. Gliding beside you now,
I feel like the Benjamin Franklin of monogamy,

as if I invented it, but I’m still not immune
to your waterfall scent, still haven’t developed
antibodies for your smile. I don’t know how long

regret existed before humans stuck a word on it.
I don’t know how many paper towels it would take
to wipe up the Pacific Ocean, or why the light

of a candle being blown out travels faster
than the luminescence of one that’s just been lit,
but I do know that all our huffing and puffing

into each other’s ears—as if the brain was a trick
birthday candle—

didn’t make the silence
any easier to navigate. I’m sorry all the kisses

I scrawled on your neck were written
in disappearing ink. Sometimes I thought of you
so hard one of your legs would pop out

of my ear hole, and when I was sleeping, you’d press
your face against the porthole of my submarine.
I’m sorry this poem has taken thirteen years

to reach you. I wish that just once, instead of skidding
off the shoulder blade’s precipice and joyriding
over flesh, we’d put our hands away like chocolate

to be saved for later, and deciphered the calligraphy
of each other’s eyelashes, translated a paragraph
from the volumes of what couldn’t be said.

[image via here]

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

bulletin board wisdom

In prepping (or procrastinating) for moving day, I sorted through the multiple layers of magazine tearings tacked to my bulletin board.  It's interesting to see how tastes evolve.  When I reached the first layer, I found several fantastic quotes clippings.  Bear with me, as a few are missing their by-line:

Choose clothes for the life you live, not the life you desire.  And if you find a piece you're crazy about, buy it in multiples.

I would like to see a little more creativity.  Dress for yourself.  Surprise yourself.  Impress yourself.  People will notice.

I've learned to never fantasize about being a lady who lunches.  It's much more fun to be a woman who lives.

When a woman becomes her own best friend, life is easier.

My beauty ideal is that modern woman who is slightly not put together.  I think imprefections are beautiful.
Aerin Lauder

Don't criticize other women.  Makes us all look bad.
Do throw out your five-year plan and be open to the unexpected.
Don't become obsessed with accessories.  Become obsessed with knowledge.  Accessories come and go; knowledge lasts forever.
Do remember men are people.  Don't change for them.
Do figure out what you love to do and do it.  From there, all good things will come.
Candace Bushnell

simple life

As soon as the movers leave today, this will be me (minus the daybed) sitting on the carpet and enjoying a glass of wine perhaps.  Soon I will have zero furniture in my beach cottage.  I'm going to try and squeeze in one last bike ride down the strand before they arrive, and scoop up a cup of coffee on the way home.  Let the adventure commence!

[image via my fair lady]

spot on

One of everything from Jayson Home & Garden, please:

especially this antique rug pillow, 
and the lovely paperweight above.  
Oh, and this ottoman,
and a beautiful planter for my kitchen window.

Sheesh!  It appears I've morphed into the poster girl for the Rolling Stone's Satisfaction, as in I can't get no.  It's just silly the design/decor ideas wreaking havoc in my mind.  I can't wait to get started.  After I survive the week.

Monday, March 23, 2009

carol ann duffy

I like pouring your tea, lifting
the heavy pot, and tipping it up,
so the fragrant liquid streams in your china cup. 

Or when you’re away, or at work,
I like to think of your cupped hands as you sip,
as you sip, of the faint half-smile of your lips. 

I like the questions – sugar? – milk? –
and the answers I don’t know by heart, yet,
for I see your soul in your eyes, and I forget. 

Jasmine, Gunpowder, Assam, Earl Grey, Ceylon,
I love tea’s names. Which tea would you like? I say
but it’s any tea for you, please, any time of day, 

as the women harvest the slopes 
for the sweetest leaves, on Mount Wu-Yi,
and I am your lover, smitten, straining your tea.

coco chanel

[image via Miel et Soleil]

Saturday, March 21, 2009

sweet stories

Sweet story numero uno.
Sweet story numero due.

clawfoot tubs

I'm on a clawfoot tub kick!  The possibilities are endless!

[picture via Apartment Therapy]

new roots

I've found it - the East Coast equivalent to my Los Angeles beach cottage.  It is bubbling with character, as well as a beautiful new kitchen and a picturesque Holiday Golightly fire escape.

I am experiencing jet lag to the max and slept all of three hours last night.  Life is good, however, and I sat in bed, looked out my hotel window over the Hudson, (contemplated ordering early morning coffee and oatmeal) and waited for my first NY sunrise.  I can't believe I will be living here in one short week.

Today has in store the following:
  1. a quick trip to the realtor's office for paperwork-completing
  2. taking the ferry into Manhattan to meet J for lunch
  3. getting in touch with B for a possible dinner/Sunday coffee rendezvous
But before I go, a few foods for thought: 
  1. can't get this sofa out of my design-crazed mind
  2. very luxurious, these sheepskin throws, especially when draped over chairs around a kitchen table
  3. this tiered shower curtain for my new cast iron footed bathtub 
  4. oh, and I am so hungry I could eat this delectable banner
Operation eat something gen has commenced.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

wide eyes

These vagabond shoes, are longing to stray
Right through the very heart of it -
I'll make a brand new start of it
If I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere
It's up to you

Leaving for NY/NJ tomorrow, on a jet plane and all that jazz.  But I'll return, and hopefully with a signed lease agreement.  It's not quite the big move yet.  I've about five more LA sunsets to memorize before I leave for good. 

Gwyneth Paltrow's noted New York favorites.
And a book swap I want to join, eventually.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009


Having an artist and stationary-extraordinaire for a mom, I've been raised to appreciate and honor the hand-written note.  I find the above design by artist and college student Hannah Nation especially charming.  She looks just like a city girl; I might only watercolor her brunette.  Like mother, like daughter.

My favorite guide to the art of letter writing.
And love letters you were never meant to see.

the universe

On Monday's and Friday's, The Universe sends me notes.  I've received them for several years now and they never get old.  I love when they are compelling and strangely appropriate at the particular point in time received.  This one especially:

Sometimes when you're ready for a change, Genevieve, and you kind of know it but won't admit it, when it comes, not only are you surprised, but it hurts.  Yeah, I know that doesn't help much, unless you remember the "ready" part.  Because there is simply no change that might ever transpire in time and space that happens before you're fully able to use it for your own growth and glory.

Love watching you create,
The Universe

And then at the end of each email, they always add a zinger:

So hey, Genevieve, may as well just act like you had personally requested it, and soar.  Because, truthfully, you did, and, honestly, you can.

[image by Elana Kalis via Blah, Blah, Blahg]

Monday, March 16, 2009

jim jarmusch

[via Trilllllll]

marais usa

Loving and adoring and just enamored with these shoes from Marais USA.  I'll take anything patent nude and ankle-strapped, you don't have to ask me twice.  The best part?  These darling shoes are recession friendly and very considerate of your pocket book.  

Sunday, March 15, 2009

robert graves

Who calls her two-faced?  Faces she has three;
The first inscrutable, for the outer world;
The second shrouded in self-contemplation;
The third, her face of love,
Once for an endless moment turned on me

If I am ever asked to describe myself a five-line poem, this would be the poem I would recite.

Friday, March 13, 2009


I am leaving here shortly to drive up the 101 - one last trip (partially) up the California coast - to see my brother V play volleyball. The timing could not be any sweeter. I could use a hug and my family are the best people for this. With everything going on in my life, I anticipate a whirl of a weekend:

Santa Barbara
St. Paddy's Day Parade in Hermosa
Saturday wine night and final weekend celebration at the Cottage
Take flattering pictures of couch and sell on Craigslist
Research housing in Hoboken, NJ
Thank you notes
Living every last sunset at the beach
At least one, possibly more, bike ride on the strand

Oh, and the Eloise illustration above! One of the first things I will do after I move is make a reservation for tea at the Plaza. Check out Annina TeaTime for a fun post on Eloise. And here is Eloise's very own website.

Have a delicious weekend.

500 days of summer

500 Days Of Summer Trailer from keith on Vimeo.
This movie looks so stinkin' good. Can't wait to see it. IMDb it here.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

old and new

A clever perspective on flowers from Jason Logan, illustrator of If We Ever Break Up, This Is My Book. Queen Anne's Lace was my favorite. You can see a complete sideshow on the NY Times website here.


I love the colors and textures and fabrics that run rampant in elements of style's recent spotlight on m. design interiors, an LA-based design firm. Enjoy my favorites below:

Love: books books books
Love: chandelier, that Santorini blue
Love: textured walls, iridescence
Love: red couch, print variety, lucite
Love: warm reading place, framed prints
Love: crisp white, red-blue valence, storage, patterns, gold lampshade

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

the move

I'm moving to New York.  

I picked up my phone this afternoon and found a (much-desired) job offer on the other end.  Euphoria ensued, of course.  But now my mind is heavy and full - to explain with what I wish I could.  Here, let me try: everything.  

Life has been good to me, and I'm both curious and elated about the adventure just around the corner (end of March).  I feel sort of like Audrey right now, especially in this picture.

I should sleep.  After today, my body is begging for it.

Be well.

[image by Dennis Stock]

Monday, March 9, 2009

peanut butter

I'm ecstatic. It is peanut butter week over at Design Crush, and Kelly has selected to showcase peanut butter recipes for this week's the daily eat. Can't. Wait.

[image via here]

mankind is no island

The score is beautiful and the message is crystal clear; enjoy.

Mankind Is No Island from on Vimeo.

e.e. cummings


who knows if the moon's
a balloon, coming out of a keen city
in the sky - filled with pretty people?
(and if you and I should

get into it, if they
should take me and take you into their balloon,
why then
we'd go up higher with all the pretty people

than houses and steeples and clouds:
go sailing
away and away sailing into a keen
city which nobody's ever visited, where

Spring) and everyone's
in love and flowers pick themselves

e e cummings or e. e. cummings or E. E. Cummings or Edward Estlin Cummings was a poet and painter and play-write and much more.  His peculiar syntax I find alluring; his intentional strewing of punctuation across the page, I quiet my compulsiveness and curiously enjoy.  Because of Cummings' distinct style, it is almost vital that his poetry be read out loud.  And as a result, Cummings continues to masterfully influence the way each poem is revealed to the reader.  So go on, read it aloud a second time around.

[image from The Red Balloon via here]

Saturday, March 7, 2009

song of myself

I've always been taken with poetry, and I want more of it in my life. Walt Whitman is the man fueling the desire:

Have you reckon'd the earth much?
Have you practis'd so long to learn to read?
Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poetry?

Stop this day and night with me and you shall 
possess the origin of all poetry
You shall possess the good of the earth and sun, 
(there are millions of suns left)
You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, nor look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books.
You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me,
You shall listen to all sides and filter them from yourself.

This (demanding, passionate) snippet from Song of Myself by Walt Whitman encourages spending time with poetry so that words can come alive in a way unique to the reader.  In that sense, poems are like fingerprints - not one person's application is the same.

[hypertext image of Whitman's writings via here]

Friday, March 6, 2009

commence the weekend

Happy weekend.  Looking forward to spending time unwinding from an insane work week, although I anticipate quite the list of things-to-do.  All in good time, Gen:

Card shopping for A, A, S, K, J/T, and E.
Mail cards and cookies to A, S, K, J/T, and E.
Pick up a congratulatory gift for A, as she scored in the 99% percentile on her MCAT (!) and deserves something wonderful.
Bake cookies for A's party on Saturday.
Clean out the fridge.
Breathe, etc.

I suppose I'd better get going.  Until later, then.

[image via littlebrownpen]

andy warhol

"I am afraid that if you look at a thing long enough, it looses all of its meaning." Andy Warhol

Thursday, March 5, 2009


My morning routine has taken a reflective turn, literally. At the top of the first hill on 190th, and depending on the morning's clarity, I am gifted with a brief (but so satisfying) look at the ocean behind me via my rear view mirror. Often coupled with 105.1's national anthem or Big Boy's casual chatter (both of which offering very distinct accompaniments), I'm hit with a wave of graciousness. I am so fortunate.

And as if that weren't enough, I see the sun in reverse on my drive home. The colors are vivid and electric and I swear I haven't seen a single hue repeat itself in the 8 months I've lived by the beach.

Sunrise and sunset, nature's bookends. It appears as though they hold me up as well.

[Hermosa Beach sunset image via mstlouis]

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

you crazy child

My morning coffee has served it's purpose, and now I am alert after a seventeen hour work day. (Monday's and month-ends are not the most promising combination.) Heavy lidded eyes and the almost-mistaking of my morning oatmeal for a soft down pillow have me wishing for something comforting and familiar. So naturally, I've turned my Pandora station to Billy Joel in hope that I'll hear Vienna, the song that serves as my sweet and subtle slap on the wrist when my work/life balance begins to slip.

Slow down, you're doing fine. You can't be everything you want to be before your time, although it's so romantic on the borderline tonight. Too bad but it's the life you lead, you're so ahead of yourself that you forgot what you need - though you can see when you're wrong, you know you can't always see you're right.

When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?

[image via Merisi, author of a brilliant Viennese blog]

Sunday, March 1, 2009

a tease

oatmeal with vanilla bean
trail mix, with one cinnamon stick
the sun deck and a round table
faded tablecloth and iron chairs
bathing suit and sundress and bare feet - propped,
four chairs for just one summer-stricken girl
reading and being,
striped beach bag packed
for a sun day like this -
and when the sun is just right she walks
down her white-washed steps and
onto the sand
to sleep - stretch - write - listen -
to memorize everything on purpose, as
sun days will be hard to come by
in february
on another coast

[image via irene suchocki]