Inspiration for a Thursday

Here is a set of some of my Flickr favorites for today

1. 9/365 – Waiting for Summer, 2. -, 3. Bleu, 4. thursday, 5. Maladie, 6. my morning read, 7. piu piu piu, 8. Untitled, 9. Untitled, 10. found sketch., 11. Flower Hat, 12. buskers sod off, 13. flower #3, 14. times square, 15. sunday’s burn, 16. pink

Not alot of color going on for me, I guess. I have been inspired alot lately by browns and grays and creams – muted earthy colors.

I am also loving Julia Rothman and Herman Yu a whole lot right now. Thanks Nicole for pointing me in their directions with your National Stationery Show recap!

These Are The Hands Of Your Best Friend

Last week, Thursday, May 24 2007, we stood on the beach with sand between our toes and The Fiancee became The Husband, and I became his wife. It’s funny, even though nothing really changed, since we have lived together for years, it still feels different. Good.

The whole thing seemed to go by in an instant, and now I remember glimpses of it.

We arrived in Sanibel Island, Florida on Saturday to hot, muggy weather, predictions of rain, pelicans dancing their drunken dances, and red algae invading the beach. It definitely felt like Florida. I began to joke that until noon the weather was beautiful, then as soon as the clock struck 12pm it turned instantly to sweltering hot.

We managed to relax a bit the first couple of days, did some beach combing for shells, which carpeted the beach, sat on the screened porch and rooftop deck of the condo we rented for the week. We immediately bought beer, of course, and we ate at the Lazy Flamingo near where Sanibel turns into Captiva. The place was remarkably good, even though there was no outside seating. People in Florida must not like to sit outside. Too hot? It seemed to be a sort of hole in the wall place, with a ring and hook bar game {did that originate in Florida? I asked, and thanks to the Internet, now we know}, and they apparently are known for oysters. As we sat there a family of beachy people came in and ordered a couple plates of oysters on the half shell, and their young daughter could hardly wait for them to be delivered to them at the bar. Another couple from West Palm Beach wandered in, very drunk, and offered to let me try one of their oysters. I had never had them before, and it may have taken many more years for me to suck up the courage to order them myself, but when someone offers, how can you refuse? So I tried it, and I liked it. So much so that I ordered them a few nights later and made Kelly try them. I should have taken a picture of that first oyster of mine.

We planned to go hike around Corkscrew Swamp Sanctuary, a smallish inland nature preserve, slightly southeast of Sanibel, with a 2.25 mile boardwalk through different habitats of southern Florida. I had planned for this excursion, printing out maps and directions, but alas, we got to Florida and those maps were nowhere to be found, so we winged it. Corkscrew Swamp MUST be on Corkscrew Road, right? Seemed logical. Until we drove the length of Corkscrew Road and saw no signs of a Sanctuary. So I called up our friend back home to look it up, got directions, and discovered that we had driven the LONG way ENTIRELY AROUND the park. Ah well, we got there, and saw skinks that turned colors and quite a large gator, despite the fact that it is the dry season and so the “swamp” was not very swampy.

The first half of the week was filled with meetings and errands and beer and seafood. Every day or two we felt as though we were moving in or out of our condo as if it were a house. Boxes of fishbowls in, bags of shells and sand, boxes of semi-assembled fish bowls out to be delivered to the resort, groceries and beer in to prepare for a party, trash and bottles to be recyled out.

On Monday, we went into Fort Myers to get our marriage license. You would think this would just have been a run of the mill errand, and I suppose it was, but we managed to make it exciting nonetheless. We had no idea where we were going initially, and lacking the internet connection that we are so used to having at our fingertips, we enlisted the help of our friend, who was still back home and nearly permanently connected to the internet {same friend who helped us find Corkscrew Swamp when we were lost – thanks!}, to look it up for us. We also called up before we set out, and thought we had a good idea of which building we were heading to. We got to the justice center, go through mega security, where I had to empty my purse on suspicion that my compact was a weapon, only to realize once inside that we were in the wrong place. Across the street we trekked, upstairs, and grab a number. Yes, a number, like at the DMV. We sat a waited for our number to be called – BONG! Number 44 – feeling like we were in that scene in Beetlejuice, and laughing our heads off like little children.

Marriage license in hand, we picked up our sample cake. Upon consumption, drama ensued, phone calls were made, profanity was uttered. But what is really important now, is that the sample wasn’t wrong, it just wasn’t what we expected, and we cleared it up, and the final cake was fantastic. I never even met the baker, but I just want to hug him for putting up with us.

We had a party on Tuesday to welcome guests who had gotten into the area by then, and we grilled amazing onion burgers from Jerry’s Supermarket and drank lots of beer out at one of the little grill areas at our condo complex. For the first time of many, we underestimated how much our families and friends could drink, you would think we would know this, and had to ask someone to fetch alcohol. It was nice to be able to see people, give them a chance to meet each other, yet it wasn’t such a large group since not everyone had arrived yet. After awhile, things degenerated into debauchery, marked at one point with my mother squaring off with one of the LARGE local softshell turtles who wanted desparately to join our party, the pair of them almost ending up in the pond together.

We were late for the rehearsal on Wednesday afternoon. Not ALOT late, but a little late. We walked out to the beach to see almost everyone, except for half of the wedding party, who was with us, all ganged up in the shade waiting for us. Dinner that evening at MATZALUNA! {every time I even think about MATZALUNA! I just want to exclaim it now, thanks to my friends} was enormous and phenominal. The mussels were to die for, and I could hardly eat my lasanga for being so full, topped off with early pangs of nervous. It was great to have everyone together though, and our friends who were in the wedding party and their spouses/partners sitting with us were cracking me up all evening! I don’t know if I have ever laughed so much.

Wednesday night we spent apart, and Kelly stayed in the condo with me. I had intended to get up at sunrise and hit the shelling, but she insisted that I sleep in. Unfortunately, I tossed and turned all night with nerves, and having that way-too-big bed to myself. At sunrise, I knew I wouldn’t be sleeping any more, but I laid there anyhow. I joked later that I didn’t want Kelly to yell at me for getting up early. We shelled the beach, went for coffee and breakfast, and tried to relax for awhile, yet I was a ball of nerves all morning. Finally at 1pm, my nerves subsided as I convinced myself to focus on The Soon To Be Husband at the end of the aisle.

And then time seemed to spin by even faster still.

Flowers, photographer, dress. I lost all ability to make decisions. Then for an hour before the ceremony I gave up all control over anything and sat with my girls in the catering office while so many things were likely going on without me. All of the planning we did was suddenly in the past, and this thing was rolling and all we could do was hope it worked. My two girls and I shared a bottle of champagne together and talked about boobs. That hour seemed to go by in a matter of seconds, then my dad, in his pimp off-white suit, walked with me from the bridal home base to the patio of Casa Ybel, where I watched from behind as the grooom, bridesmaids and groomsmen did their thing, and then the wave came to signal us to start moving.

I flipped off my shoes. I dropped the small train of my dress to the ground. I felt the sand on my feet, and then I couldn’t feel my feet at all. There was a steel drum, but I couldn’t tell you what the music really sounded like. I reminded myself to smile, to not look at the ground as I am so compelled to do, to look at what I am walking toward. It was so quick, and then I was there. Ellie said “hi” to me, and I laughed, and she started the ceremony. I wanted to ask my groom how his day had been, since I hadn’t seen him for hours.

And everything went fine. I didn’t cry the entire time as I had been so nervous that I would, I only cried a little. I handed over my bouquet to Kelly when it was time. We said our “I do”s, and repeated our vows and put our rings on each other’s finger. I remember Nate, and I remember Ellie, and I remember wiggling my toes every few minutes to feel the sand, and I remember the wind, and I remember not even noticing the other 44 people that were there watching it all, except for Greg when he couldn’t get the ring out of the bag for what seemed like hours.

And I am telling you all of this, friends, all of these details, so that I can remember as well, because it seemed to go by in a blur as white as my dress on the sand, but now as I write it, I remember every detail.

We spent an hour taking more pictures, and it was so much more fun than I ever could have imagined. Krista kept asking us to give each other a quick kiss, and that was fine because all I wanted to do was kiss my husband. People watched as pictures were done, and I didn’t even mind as I thought I would, because it was all just. FUN. Dinner was exquisite, as we knew it would be. Great food, under the palm trees and the night sky. I felt so beautiful, and loved, and special.

The cake was cut, fed, eaten. Kelly bustled me. The party moved inside and people danced and danced. I finally understood how brides can dance and dance and talk and talk until the very end without ever feeling tired. Even my tiny grandmother stayed until the end.

Many of our guests left for home the next day, and we treated those that stayed to yet another get together, much less formal, at our condo, for leftover wedding cake. We intentionally ordered a larger cake than we needed for our 44 guests, partially because we wanted 3 tiers, and also, so that we would have leftovers, both the next day, and to bring home. On top of that, we found out later that the baker actually made the cake even larger than we had ordered! It was the fourth party we had thrown in as many days, and it gave us the chance to talk to some of our friends and family that arrived later in the week.

On our last day in Florida, we checked out of our home away from home, and took a drive up to Captiva for lunch, and a stroll on the beach as newlyweds, where we found this little guy:

But don’t worry, we only had him for a second or two while we snapped a picture, then returned him to the sea where he and his friends tumbled arm over arm in the surf.

It was such an amazing week, filled with fun, family, friends, flowers, good food, lots of beer, great cake, sun, sand, ocean, shells, wildlife, adventure, stress, support, love, and commitment. I am truly so grateful for everything that we have and share, and for the family and friends that were able to be with us for this crazy week. And I now know what it feels like to want to go back and revisit the place that you got married. I want to have fabulous dinners at Casa Ybel again and again, go back and maybe stay in the adorable citrus colored cottages that my dad stayed in a few miles north of us, have Beth at Floral Artistry do a bouquet for us just to enjoy her work again. There are so many other moments that I want to share, but this story has gotten ridiculously long as it is, so those stories may have to wait for another day. Thanks for reading!

Happy Wedding!

My Love

A tad blurry, but so was the experience. My love and I, newly married, will have to hold a place here today, while I compose my thoughts enough to recount the past week of our lives. I have so much to say, and yet, can’t seem to figure out the way to say it quite yet.

Stay With Me

Hi Friends,

I’m not sure if you are all aware {please don’t lose the sarcasm there}, but there is an event coming up which involves a pretty dress, rings, cake {hopefully}, good food, friends + family, sand, and the man I love. I am going to be away from the blog for a week to focus on all things involved with this, as well as have some fun on the beach in my bikini and flip flops. But please, stay with me, because I will most definitely be back.

In the meantime, have a look at some sexy paper goods and stationary. I wish I had found some of these links when I was working on our own invitations {especially Ceci}:

Orange Beautiful :: go to their portfolio in THE GOODS section
Peculiar Pair Press :: I love the design of this site too!
Wiley Valentine :: go to Our Work, patience is a virtue, this site loads a little slow
Diane Lamendola :: Fabulous collection
East Six :: loving Sherry & Jeff
Ceci New York :: So much to look at, click the names on the right, and the collections on the left, I love Liza & Eric, Lindsay & Ezra, Ruthie & Stu, Ellie & Mike – used the same eames paper I did!, Amy & Paul, there are just so so many.
Louella Press Notecards
Oh Joy! :: I love this and this
Good On Paper Design
Anvil Paper :: Holy hell is this cool wrapping paper! I LOVE the elephants. And the monkeys. See the rest of Anvil Paper’s paper products here.

Also, Jim Brown’s photos and mixed media work is moody and textural and fantastic, and Anna Emilia Laitinen makes some pretty amazing work too!. Check it out.

What This Means To Me

I posted this photograph a couple of days ago, with no real explanation for it, other than that it and some other images built a sort of visual definition of my history and where I come from. Ever since then I have felt the need to elaborate on that, for this photograph especially.

This is the old crotchety refrigerator that lived in my mother’s house when I was in middle and high school. I couldn’t tell you how old it is, just that it is old. It is one of those shorter models, with rounded corners, that old fashioned pull handle, the white paint worn off in places, and fading to yellow in most others. It has the tiniest freezer, not the modern kind with a separate door, but the kind that is a metal box inside the fridge, that would get so crusted with ice that you could hardly open the little door, and really only fit a tub of ice cream and a can of frozen juice concentrate. Forget about frozen pizza.

We started sticking banana stickers on it at some point, that must have been some early inclination of my future love for design and type, and they are all still stuck in the same place close to the top, like a badge of honor. This fridge now lives in my mother’s storage shed, waiting patiently to be placed into the kitchen of the little house that is slowly moving towards livability. There is electricity now, though, so there is a cold bottle of champagne inside, of course. My mother still hangs a dishcloth on the handle, as she always did, even though there are no dishes now to dry. Yet. It makes me happy though, because it is a manifestation of my mother’s hope that she will live in that little house, that the prize at the end of that long, slow journey will be attained. That dishcloth is also a tribute, to a cat that we had the pleasure of living with for many years, so long ago, who would regularly reach her paw up to touch the fabric, and gently pull it to the floor, to let us know that it was time for her to have a bit of milk from inside that old fridge.

That fridge is a piece of my past, my present, and my future. It is my mother, strong, unique, hopeful. It is an example of the lovely vintage, earthy things that were around me in my mother’s house as I grew up, things that influence and inspire me now, and a reminder of the lovely happenings in that kitchen. They say the kitchen is the heart of a home, and that fridge was the heart of our kitchen. That is why this image means so much to me, why it helps define my history.

JPG Magazine and Blog Law

I normally don’t post more than once a day, but I came across a couple of articles today that really caught my attention, so I’m breaking the mold and posting while it’s fresh in my head.

The Real Story of JPG Magazine – the co-founder of photography magazine JPG, Derek Powazek, posted yesterday about his leaving the company that he helped nurture into existence. I had no idea any of this was going on, but it was a really good read, and good advice/lessons learned for anyone who may someday start a business, like me.

12 Important U.S. Laws Every Blogger Needs to Know – this article is a really useful reminder of some laws that affect anyone who blogs. Copyright issues, deep linking, image use, and user-developed content are some that I found particularly interesting.

Typographical Promiscuity

Design Observer recently published this article titled, “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Typeface”. It’s an interesting read, regardless of the fact that I am not entirely sure what Beirut’s stance really is on typographical promiscuity. My especially favorite part is:

6. Because they made you.
And sometimes it’s something you’ve never used before, for good reason. “We use ITC Eras on all our materials.” “Can I make an alternate suggestion?” “No.” This is when blind embossing comes in handy.

The article also lead me into a new love affair with Novia. So there.

Where I’m From

We drove up to Waupaca this Mother’s Day to hand off the 7 boxes of wedding stuff that my mom has kindly agreed to take with her when she drives down. While we were there I took some pictures of some of her things, that I feel seem to give somewhat of a visual definition of where I come from.

She has been working with an architect to develop a plan for her “little house”, and she showed us the plans he had drawn up. Unfortunately, the original ideas he had were a little more extravagant than is within her reach, but just looking at the plans, it was immediately apparent that the architect was truly excited and inspired about the potential of the project. It was so creative and interesting and I could just imagine it being sprouted into life around us. I just love when you can tell that someone has a passion for something, without even speaking or even meeting that person. I could feel his passion through the blueprints, and it was electric. I can only hope to touch someone that way someday.

At the end of the day we somehow ended up in a conversation that digressed into my mom sing-chanting the names of my bridesmaids, “mollykellymollykelly”. Not that that surprises me, I come from a goofy woman. It reminded The Fiancee of a hawaiian Muppets skit he had seen a long long time ago. Ever diligent, he found it on trusty YouTube, complete with monkeys throwing rocks, of course:

Jim Henson was the most random creative genius ever, thank goodness he existed.

Thanks, Mom, for a wonderful few hours, and for everything. Everything.

Nature’s Wrath

This is an incredible photoset showing the devastation that occurred when a large tornado struck Greensburg, Kansas, over a week ago. The tornado was an F5, the highest magnitude on the National Weather Service scale, estimated at about 1.25-1.5 miles wide, and destroyed 90% of the town.

It is hard for me to fathom a tornado being THAT BIG.

Relaxing

Today was a “flex day” for The Fiancee and I, so we had the entire day off. Normally we have a big list of things to do, especially so with the wedding right around the corner, but we decided to do some relaxing, since the day was so beautiful.

We slept in (sort of), and then caught up on TV for most of the morning, and then headed down to library mall to grab lunch. That always makes me feel like a college student again, because the mall is right in the heart of the university, and a large number of students pass through there every day. On warm days, there are a bunch of lunch carts out, from local restaurants, many of them serving amazing ethnic food. Far and away my favorite is Buraka, which serves ethiopian food. So we sat on the mall with our lunch, then went to have a pitcher of beer at the Memorial Union Terrace. I lived worked there for the majority of my college career, so it holds a special place in my heart, and it seems that we never have enough time to spend there in the summer. So we sat, drank, people watched (homework doing students preparing for final exams), duck watched, got some of the best ice cream in the world, and got a tiny bit of a sunburn. I think it will be gone in couple of days though, and shouldn’t cause any problems for the wedding. It was really such a perfect way to spend an early summer weekday off, and I think it rejuvenated both of us.

For my inspiration of the day, I absolutely adore the illustrations by ashley, which can be purchased through her etsy shop. Her use of color, line quality, and whimsical feel are all things that I wish I could do with as much perfection as she.