Sweet Pea, What's all this about?

Sweet pea
Apple of my eye
Don't know when and I don't know why
You're the only reason I keep on coming home

Sweet pea
What's all this about
Don't get your way all you do is fuss and pout
You're the only reason I keep on coming home

I like the Rock of Gibraltar
I always seem to falter
And the words just get in the way
Oh I know I'm gonna crumble
I'm trying to stay humble
But I never think before I say

Sweet pea
Keeper of my soul
I know sometimes I'm out of control
You're the only reason I keep on coming
You're the only reason I keep on coming yeah
You're the only reason I keep on coming home

Home for the Holidays

I'm home. Another reason to consider myself lucky, I suppose, as not everyone is able to return & rest, to breathe for a bit.

KT and Asu came with me on a trip to Sonora, CA - wine from a snow-made freezer, crackers and burritos and cheese puffs and viet sandwiches (food is love, after all), well-endowed snowmen, screaming sled rides, wiping out across powder and ice - all to return back to SJ for Christmas in the Park, two sets of hands laced together weaving and waving our way through a crowd.

Last night, a night with the hSU siblings, Penelope (an adorable movie, with one of my favorites - James McAvoy! Insert girlish squeal here), and Wimbledon. And ,my friends, oh the bananas we made. Crepes with bananas, nutella, powdered sugar and syrupy goodness, banana bread (half with chocolate chips, and none for the purists, you see), and fried bananas, the success of which could be debated, as Jsu and I both got burned by the deep frying process. Nevertheless, it was a wonderful weekend with loved ones, and today, I'll hopefully help my dad out with some technomological business.

Or I could go for a run.

Yeah... after last night's sugar rush, crash, and coma, a run and a salad would be nice.

On another note, it seems that, with an excess of time and love, the domestic inside of my tears herself from hiding to sprint outside with the sole mission of drastically increasing my caloric intake. Oh hello, love handles.

Chinese Fried Bananas

Instructions, verbatim, from my father via cell phone:

50 flour, 50 cornstarch

Mix batter with water put in bananas, throw in deep fryer

All crispy J add oil ½ cup part oil 1/2 part sugar no water, melt and stir, then drop fried , stir realfas 15-30 seconds, dip into ice water

And The World Spins Madly On

Thought of You from Ryan J Woodward on Vimeo.

A gorgeous animation by Ryan Woodward with dancing and one of my favorite songs.

Thought of You - Behind the Scenes Preview - ROUGH CUT from Cambell Christensen on Vimeo.

And, if you're into this kinda stuff like I am, a Behind the Scenes look at the process :)

Have A Little Faith

"My friends, if we tend to the things that are important in life, if we are right with those we love and behave in line with our faith, our lives will not be cursed with the aching throb of unfulfilled business. Our words will always be sincere, our embraces will be tight. We will never wallow in the agony of ‘I could have, I should have.’ We can sleep in a storm."

Mitch Albom

Wilde & Hegel

"Who, being loved, is poor?"

Oscar Wilde

"For the consciousness of the Save has experienced anxiety - not about this or that circumstance, nor for this or that moment - but concerning its own total being; because it has felt the fear of death, the absolute master."

Hegel

A different sort of paint

Dear Self,

I don't know whether this is your inner hyperactive female or consumerism at work,

but please,

please,

please,

stop buying makeup. It looks so unnatural on you. You don't wear it often enough. You're lazy. Why do you need stila? Why do you own dior? Well, fine, someone gave it to you, but still. What in god's name could you possibly do with two fistfuls of makeup brushes? Well I don't know either. Four blushes don't do you no good. Pink eyeshadow makes your eyes look swollen, and you have six purples. Six. Lordy. You could make a mural with what you've got. And lets be honest here... Y'ain't goin' ta use it!

Do our own thang, girl.

Love,

The Natural Self.

Andrew Zuckerman

Isn't he adorable?

This is the one that first caught my eye. You can buy two of his prints on 20 x 200

Zuckerman's "Flower" series looks like glass.

All photos belong to Andrew Zuckerman

in my world, we sing very loud

Truth be told, I feel a bit strange dedicating posts.

Candor is a valued quality no longer, and as the flow of our words cease, stoppered by social constrictions, emotion's sheer intensity looks impossible to scale. So I hide, we hide. Preferences for polite present the being as washed out versions of thought. Appreciation of extremes smothered in platitudes for laymen and the illiterate.

If we externalize ourselves, our thoughts by way of action in reality, does the reverse hold true?

I cease to recognize quality, significance, magnitude.

So here, tucked in a dark corner of the world wide web, away from cynicism and pessimism, I want to say.

I love you. Because I love you, I love your generosity, your loyalty, and your sharp sense of humor. I admire all these qualities in you, and more. Your readiness to help out a friend, to freely give favors, and to expend your resources with an endearing smile. Your attempts to listen to half-exhaled, whispered conversations in the dark hours of morning, even if you couldn't understand a word. Your ingenious way with inflection and intonation. I admire your easy-going way with people, your unique way of setting them at ease. I've always told you things in confidence that I know you wouldn't share. I will treasure seeking comfort and leaning on your very capable shoulders. I love your appreciation for romance yet your sensible advice. You're an adventure hunter, but you still don't mind staying up watching cheesy disney movies and laughing. I adore the fact that I can be quiet and loud around you. You've got a way with tech stuff, and display remarkable patience in pedagogy, be it with technical terms or guitar lessons.You're dedicated. Who else would wait outside for twenty minutes without a phone? That meant a lot to me, even if I was passed out and my parents turned you away. You have an adorable, shy and humble way about you. I think you know what your strengths are, and are modest when unaware. An endearing quality, to be sure. I can trust you with responsibility and fun time. You can take my nonsensical emotional and jumbled self in the mornings and my silly doggy-piling self.

So, hands over shoulders and waists, pink umbrella and trapper hat, rain boots and sandals, there wouldn't be anyone else I'd rather be trudging (and laughing) my way with through a downpour.

I can love you without words. I already do.

But sometimes, I don't know how else to communicate the hows or whys.

"I like the way youre not afraid
Youve got the world planned in your mind
People say you cannot do it
But they dont know a friend like you

The girl you love has gone away
Still too young to know her heart
Shell return her love renewed
Cause shell never find a friend like you

When I had no one to call
All the world had shut me down
I showed up at your door so blue
Thank God I had a friend like you

Any times Ive gone without
A home, a meal, a pair of shoes
If you had three youd give me two
There aint no other friend like you"

Catullus 7

You inquire, my Lesbia, how many of your kisses

are enough and more than enough for me.

As big a number as the Libyan sand-grains

that lie at asafoetida-bearing Cyrene

between the oracle of sultry Jupiter

and the sacred tomb of old Battus;

or as many stars, when the night is quiet,

see the secret loves of men.

So many kisses for mad Catullus to kiss you

are enough and more than enough, [kisses]

which neither the curious can count

nor an evil tongue bewitch.

Quaeris, quot mihi basiationes

tuae, Lesbia, sint satis superque.

quam magnus numerus Libyssae harenae

lasarpiciferis iacet Cyrenis

oraclum Iovis inter aestuosi

et Batti veteris sacrum sepulcrum;

aut quam sidera multa, cum tacet nox,

furtivos hominum vident amores:

tam te basia multa basiare

vesano satis et super Catullo est,

quae nec pernumerare curiosi

possint nec mala fascinare lingua.

Home is where...

This weekend was such a blast! I guess its good that I had fun before I buckle down for dead week. Khoi and Donald came up for the AJ RAFAEL concert, and a during intermission, Asu called me to ask if I was in Berkeley for a spontaneous visit! So sitting in my room at five a.m. with my roomie and her friend on her bed. Khoitoi, Donald, Asu, and Frank all sitting on my floor counting numbers for sips. :)

They are the best.

Edit: The only problem with having home with you, is the absence when its gone. It only makes me miss the creature comforts of easy relationships and laughter.

You've got a love like woe

Knowing I've got you at my back makes life so much better.

Munch.

The semester's almost over. Had quite the adventure today, going to Gregoire's, John's, two Andronico's and Whole Foods (a.k.a. Hipster Central with Baaaaaank!)

Honestly, samples are quite possibly the best grocery store lure ever. I had so much free hot spicy apple cider I had to use their restroom!

P.S. Doesn't this Compost Cookie from momofuku look marvelous? Salty & Sweet, mmmm...