A Bookshop Story

Found a story of a family that used to run a bookshop. I'm always very thankful for glimpses into others' lives and histories. They inevitably become fuel for much contemplation.

FYI, posts will be slow in coming until December. Hope to see you around when I'm connected again.

Magnetic Curtains

Unbelievably gorgeous magnetic curtains by Florian Kräutli, I want!

via swissmiss.

Michelle Adams' Apartment

Have you ever played that game where you imagined yourself to be in another form? For instance, if you could be a dog, what kind of dog would you be? That was a prosaic version of the game. Now, to get interesting, if you were to be a type of cocktail, what sort of glassware will we need to be putting you in? ;-p

Well, believe it or not, I've NEVER played that game, 'cos I never found what-ifs to be that intriguing of a game. Or maybe I'm just not adventurous that way. Strangest thing, though, (and these always come unexpectedly, doesn't it?) happened when I saw this apartment on Design*Sponge. The thought just came to me, instantaneously, that if I were an apartment, I would be that apartment. 

So tell me, is it time to check in with a therapist when one identifies oneself with an apartment? Or am I just *special*? Please, don't be honest.

Edmund and Rosemary Go To Hell

I read Edmund and Rosemary Go To Hell by Bruce Eric Kaplan last Saturday and boy did I enjoy it. It may be short but it made an impact and I went away with thoughts to mull over. I found a review that does such a great job that I'm going to be lazy and let it do the talking.

Flip & Tumble

I love my much-utilized Reisenthel Mini Maxi, but these reusable bags Loopt bags by Flip and Tumble are really catching my eye. Why these aren't more prevalent here in practicality-loving Asia is beyond me. Scratches head.

via Treehugger.

Semigood

I'm loving these pieces from Semigood, a design company based out of the West Coast in U.S., although I'm thinking I might be slightly nervous the first time I sit on the cantilever stool (top). Yeah, I'm a wimp that way.

Houseboats

I woke up fresh as daisy after a night of dreaming that I was happily bobbing in a river admiring houseboats after houseboats that floated past me. No nervousness, nor anxiety, just a grin on my face. I've long acknowledged that I'm a bit of a voyeur who loves peeks into others' homes, so the dream was definitely a good one.

And where was I in the hours that preceded the dream, where I might have picked up such dream-worthy ideas?

Why, at the fabulous blog of stylist Pia Jane Bijkerk, of course and reading this.

P/S: Don't hate me for this, for the visit would most probably result in a serious bout of envy, but check out Pia's home, a houseboat in one of Amsterdam's canals, on Design*Sponge. Swoon-tastic!

Fanette Mellier

Wow. Loving French graphic designer Fanette Mellier's work.

(Caution: It rains pop-ups at her site, so bring a brolly! ;-p)

via Tas-ka.

Inamo

I caught the latest James Bond flick, Quantum of Solace, and found myself enthralled by the scene where M (the grande dame in the double-o seven stories) is being presented case evidence on a flat table. But it was no ordinary table, instead, it's a big touch-screen, and the agents were interacting with it to display information. The GUI (graphic user interface) felt exciting and the speed of interactivity quick and efficient, in other words, I'm sure the table was make-believe. ;-p Oh shoot me for being cynical.

The scene reminded me of the sci-fi/futuristic movie Minority Report in which, as far as I know (and let it be on the record that I know very little), touch-screen technology was re-imagined and given a sexy face-lift. In place of a frumpy whiteboard, information was displayed in real-time and interactively on a wall-like piece of glass.

In case you're wondering, no, I'm not a sci-fi aficionado, but as someone who used to obsess about the way information was displayed, those scenes simply stuck in my head. 

All in all, that was just a long-winded way of telling you about this restaurant in London called Inamo, where you place your order by navigating the interactive menu on your dining table. Sounds a little on the gimmicky side, but it certainly piqued my interest. If you've been, would you care to share with us your experience?

More chocolate love

Paris Breakfasts followed up her Versailles' Salon du Chocolat (see previous post) visit with one held at Vaux le Vicomte, and she snapped lots of pictures for us couch-potato travellers. Yippee! Those chocolate-covered macaroons look damn fine.

Anthony Bourdain

If I'm an advocate of anything, it's the virtue of curiosity.

I don't believe I've caught any of his TV shows (I've never had cable) but I know his book Kitchen Confidential made quite an impression when I read it years ago. In fact, it's one of the books I have on my Amazon wish list that I would love to get if/when someone sees fit to gift me with a giftcard. ;-)

I firmly agree with his thought on curiosity, despite what the old cautionary saying warns us about. Where do you stand on curiosity?

Here's the article where I found the quote from.

Fold Over Press calendars

Really pretty calendars from Fold Over Press. Look at the lovely patterns to choose from!

via Sub-Studio.

Dooce's Grove

If this scene greets me when I open my front door, I'd know that I had died and gone to some kind of heaven. 

See the photo in all its glory and much larger at its owner's site, Dooce.

The plausible impossibility of death in the mind of cartoon characters

If I were in London, this would be something I would check out. I think it's high time my beloved WB characters catch up with the Japanese's in terms of gore.

via Drawn! and Slashfilm.

Holly Neufeld

Some pretty art journals from Holly Neufeld, she also blogs.

via Drawn!

Home envy

Love this shot of Mr. Magnus Berger's apartment (think that's him in the pic). I can see myself living there ;-P

If you've never been to photographer Todd Selby's site, you don't know what you're missing!

Remembering Miriam Makeba

Let us rejoice in her legacy to us all -- her voice which uplifts.

Mbube 

by 

Miriam Makeba 

(4 Mar 1932 – 9 Nov 2008).

What does necrovore mean?

Find out here. The answer ain't pretty, gulp.

via Treehugger.

S. Stein workbags

Hubba hubba!

My old bag looked like this Project Bag by Sherry Stein except mine was more reminiscent of a garden-tools bag than it did a high-end carry-all like the one pictured above. ;-)

For the most part, I'm a one-bag kinda gal, since I love to bring even the kitchen sink when I'm out and about. I had to finally get rid of that old bag because it was rending into too many unrepairable pieces, but I sure as heck miss it. The S.Stein Project Bag would be right up my alley, although, I'll probably have to talk myself into the suede part. I did, however, notice that they do special orders, so perhaps it's a matter of replacing the suede pockets with canvas? Below is a different bag, but I'm liking the color better.

via Oh Joy!

Ceramics by Zuzana Licko

Zuzana Licko of Emigre fame, whose name is eponymous with great fonts, makes equally amazing ceramic vases that I have loved for ages. The shapes, to me, recall a period of simplicity and fastidiousness, and the colors are among my faves (I especially heart the deep orange and dark brown).

Unfortunately, I've always been chicken-shit (I mentioned this blog uses strong language, right?) about shipping breakable items, ergo, the vases have remained wish-list items but hopefully, fingers crossed, not for ever.

Barack Obama

This is old news by now, but I was out of town for a funeral and was unable to post. However, I don't want to miss out on marking the occasion in this blog, and so here it is, better late than never, I say.

I had returned to the hotel room late afternoon after what felt like a full day of kneeling at the funeral parlor and watching others prostrate. I was bone-weary and my knees were bruised. The U.S. election had been on my mind the entire time, so I ignored the welcoming bed and switched the TV on instead. Upon seeing the word President-Elect under Barack Obama's image, euphoria took over and my mind commandeered the body to release its last dosage of adrenaline and I ended up bouncing on the bed, full of enthusiasm.

What is it about the man that manages to capture the minds and hearts of folks even 9000 miles away? That he is able to embody a sense of hope and to inspire lesser people like me to want to continue the fight to give voice to the seemingly small and insignificant issues on a daily basis in our everyday lives? Surely it can't all just boil down to a campaign well ran, or a team well assembled?

Personally, what impresses me when watching him speak and address the public is the integrity that he projects. Also, to me, his eloquence, like Hillary Clinton's, is the kind of stuff that legends are made of. However, unlike Hillary Clinton, who never failed to project the image of the consummate politician, Barack Obama somehow reminds me of a man, just a man, but a thinking man who is going to do his best and his most, and always for the better good, and that in turn, inspires me to be a better person.

Thank you, and Godspeed, Mr. Obama.

image via hoping for happy accidents.

Patrick Teoh

It's not very obvious (then again maybe it is, who knows with these things) that if left unchecked, I would most probably write diatribes the length of which would be equivalent to a cross-country road trip, with no stops in between and with all the sentences running into one another fender-bender-style in a rush of impatience. This could be on almost any subject I feel strongly about (and scarily enough, sometimes not even). Fortunately, as with all road trips, there is a destination, and the diatribe, I'm sure, would eventually come to an end, maybe by page 28,946? (The number has no significance, sorry to disappoint)

However, given the way things are going where I'm residing, I'm afraid I could very well be left griping for a good long time. I'm talking till the cows-come-home long. Or when the fat lady shows off her vocal chops. My bet's on the lady.

Anyway, all this to say that I'm thankful for a blogger whose guts I've admired since I was a school-going kid (he didn't actually blog then, but he hosted a radio program). A blogger who doesn't care to mince words much and without affecting an air of pretension, he gets to the core of the issues at hand using rough-and-tumble colloquilism. His blog manages to express what I would if I could. By could, I mean if I intend to remain sedentary for eternity griping to you through this blog. And oh yeah, I would also need balls of steel -- this country actually locks you up for saying the "wrong" things.

So anyway, I was catching up on his posts today when the realization (and the raison d'être for this post) hit –- because he articulates what I couldn't, I actually come away from his site feeling vented, less frustrated and usually with a chuckle to tide me over. Generally a good thing. More importantly? He cusses so I don't have to.

Salon du Chocolat

If you love chocolates, you'd be thrilled by this post on Paris Breakfasts, who visited the chocolate fair in Versailles. To say it must have been a pleasant visit would be an understatement, non? :-)

Thank you for letting us tag along!

UPDATE: Paris Breakfasts next went to Vaux le Vicomte for their Salon du Chocolat, more chocolate yummies!

Prairie Underground Logo Shopper

Loving this bag by Prairie Underground. Apparently it's made of scrap cotton material. Nice. 

image via Beklina.

Mitsuru Koga

Sea stone vases by Mitsuru Koga. You should know these measure no more than four centimeters.

via Natsumi Nishizumi.

Vertical Farming

From Good, I found out about vertical farming and was promptly bowled over. I had been sufficiently alarmed (although it shouldn't take a genius to uncover that I'm a bit of an alarmist) after reading about the state of our soil (see post) and couldn't figure out why farming isn't a more appreciated profession, maybe someone should come up with a TV series that glamourizes the lifestyle? ;-P 

My grandfather used to work a piece of land by hand and I didn't understand how precious that was until it was much too late. I hope I don't have to point out how unforgivably shortsighted I was in that I didn't pay more attention to what he did, when he was still able and when he still owned that land. :-(

Anyway, back to vertical farming. I was bowled over because even though the concept sounds radical and sci-fi-ish to me, the possibilities are all sorts of amazing if it works. Imagine strolling over to the next block for fresh brinjals or tomatoes (my two favourite ingredients)! In fact, imagine claiming that your food came from a building as lovely as the one pictured above, which surely evokes bits of the Babylonian garden of lore. Click on the slideshow at NY Times to see more.

P/S: Treehugger has more to say on the matter of vertical farming.

Delphinium

There are all sorts of unsavoury things happening in my corner of the world right now. As citizen of a country that is helplessly witnessing corruption in a lot of facets of our lives, a recurring migraine is common. 

I watched Obama's 30-minute "infomercial" two nights ago on YouTube and let myself be envious of the Americans for a change. To even have a minutiae of hope that a country's potential leader will bring about positive change -- change that should have come if all governing heads were on the same page in the first place, the page being to work for the common good and not just to deepen each one's own pockets -- is not something I have nor can look forward to, and let me tell you that it does bad things to your psyche when you teeter on the verge of despair.

By no means a cure, but perhaps a small token of salvation to my disturbed psyche are beautiful floral gifts from Mother Nature and people like frank.re.fischer who capture the imagery for posterity.

This next part sounds new-agey, and could be the art major in me talking. There is something about how the flower, while seemingly fragile, is standing out against the noise in the background in a quiet, defiant manner that elicits the perseverance spirit. It seems to suggest that I should always fight to be who I am, and to pay no heed to what the outside forces conspire. I should not let a corrupt government make me feel despair, politicians shall NOT determine my day.

Deep breath. And onward we trudge…

Seneca

I have no clue who Lucius Annaeus Seneca is, but I reckon he would make a really good speechwriter in today's world. His wikiquote page is riddled with good sound bites, here's a couple that I would love to always have with me: 

The wise man will live as long as he ought, not as long as he can.

and

I do not distinguish by the eye, but by the mind, which is the proper judge of the man.

This one, I feel, explains in a nutshell why I don't believe in religion:

Religion is regarded by the common people as true, by the wise as false, and by rulers as useful.

I have friends and family who are devout in their respective faith, and I don't knock it for those who believe in it. But I've long stopped trusting religion because I've seen ample evidence that it does more to separate you and me, he and she and they and them instead of uniting us all as one who inhabit this earth. I know that is a very idealistic spiel, but just as you are entitled to pray to whomever you want, it is just as permissible for me to hang on to my idealism, right?