September 21, 2013 § Leave a comment
So, as I mentioned in a previous post, I was eight months pregnant. Well, I am no longer pregnant, as our little fellow Milo joined us the first of September.
I thought I’d talk a bit about why we liked the name Milo.
First off: The Descendents.
Secondly: Milo Baughman.
Third: I could not stop eating apples during pregnancy. (A bit of a stretch, but…)
Fourth: We just really dug the name. It’s not abnormal, it’s easy to spell, but it’s also ranked 330th. Not too out there, but not too normal. Plus, it was the only name that neither of us could get out of our heads, and it goes well with our last name (a pretty typical last name that begins with M. I dig alliteration.)
Fifth: We liked the meaning…or lack thereof (uncertain on most sites when you look it up). It means a lot of things. Merciful, Mild, Peaceful, Calm, Soldier, etc. Also is a chocolate malt beverage in Australia, and the Hawaiian word for Hawaiian Hibiscus.
Sixth: It has literary (The Phantom Tollbooth, Catch 22) references.
Seventh: It has art history.
So there you go. It has literary, musical, art, food, peace and alliterative qualities.
Welcome Milo, to our world.
July 17, 2013 § Leave a comment
It’s been over a month. I’ve lapsed in posting to this blog, for which I apologize. But there’s a good reason. I am now eight months pregnant, and have been spending time just trying to get through a normal day without collapsing in pure exhaustion. Growing a brain takes a lot out of you.
But I do have moments where motivation and energy strike. And speaking of growing brains, Science Friday originally posted this, but I highly recommend visiting the artist’s site for enjoyment and amazement. The juxtaposition of science + art is a favorite subject of mine, and this guy does it brilliantly.
June 13, 2013 § Leave a comment
Courtesy of Uncles Tom and Lorenzo.
“Shoes, unlike children, should be seen.”
February 10, 2013 § Leave a comment
A while ago, I was watching Ugly Betty, which is a rather clever show, when she realizes that fashion is not frivolous but that it is a form of art. I really connected to that statement, and appreciated it.
I love fashion as an art. When we were in Tokyo, the first day I was so overwhelmed with the shear volume of everything around me. It was explosive and loud, but I was also coming off two red-eye flights in two nights, and no shower. I couldn’t find myself in it. After a shower, we ventured back out, and I realized that everything was gorgeous. The fashion of watching people on the streets was entertaining; It was so artful, and personal, and interesting and told a story of each person.
It is now fashion week, which many people may think is still frivolous. And on some level, it is. But it is a moveable art feast. And I turn to one of my favorites for showing it to us, Bill Cunningham. (Have you seen his documentary? If not, DO. It is so good.)
Bill has such a unique perspective, and I love watching to see what he comes up with. This man, who wears a uniform, and still takes rolls of film, has a better grasp on the art of fashion than nearly anyone.
Check out his shape shift section. All black. All fascinating.
Granted, I’m always a sucker for silhouettes.
September 8, 2012 § Leave a comment
1. If you don’t listen to 99 percent invisible means that you are not living your life to the fullest extent possible. No matter what you are doing during the day, there are thousands of fascinating things around you if you only knew to pay attention. A good introduction is their staff favorites page. Start there.
2. I am sad about the split of Amy Poehler and Will Arnett.
3. Normally, I can pick a dream apart, and see various pieces that came from my daily life, just morphed together in a really odd fashion. Until last night. It was different last night. I have absolutely no idea where this dream came from.
I walked into a building that was apparently my office. Large and open, with dark corners everywhere and a huge atrium space in the middle. It was dilapidated, and looked sort of like a large castle made of wood that had been loved in the past, and was still full of life, but also had dust bunnies everywhere.
Also everywhere were giant pythons. Pythons the size of dinosaurs, that would fill a regular sized room. They were in the CMYK spectrum. You did not bother them, and they did not bother you. I noticed in the corner that one of them had just eaten something rather large, whole.
Then I accidentally came near one, because they were strewn everywhere, and suddenly, they were all super attracted to me. Well, to my feet, oddly. A colleague (not a real life one, just a random person who was apparently my dream colleague) picked me up and ran. When they got close, she tossed me up a flight to the outer edge of a staircase–not the actual stairs, but the structure itself, which was wooden. I clung onto it like a monkey, and started scaling it.
The higher I went, the more rotten the wood became, and the more intricate the pattern. Suddenly, I was using scroll work as footholds, and half of them were breaking under my weight. The giant pythons were still behind me, slithering after me, just barely out of reach. I reached the top, where the ceiling gave way to an open sky around fifty stories up from the ground. I discovered that the scroll work had turned into old tables and chairs that were hanging from beams. Half of the ones I stepped on splintered off. A quarter of them were counter balances to others, and therefore completely unstable. I kept going up, and trying foothold after foothold, until the only option I had for my feet was the scroll work that was about to break under my feet, or a chair that was the counterbalance to a giant table across the atrium. I gingerly steadied my weight between the two, knowing that in the next few seconds I would fall straight into the python immediately below my feet that had just unhinged it’s jaw and sprung straight up.
The end. I’ve still not quite recovered.