✸ One of my favorite films ever, I Am Dina, is available for your viewing pleasure
on Hulu right now, and though it’s not the ideal medium to watch something so
incredibly beautiful and powerful – it’s free! Also, I’m not sure that this film is at
all available widely (I had to order my DVD from Canada when it came out)
and that’s a damn shame, because it really is so wonderful. I came across some
information about it before it was ever released in the States, and managed to
catch it at a movie theatre when my Grandfather and I were in Copenhagen.
It just happened to be showing at a little art-house a few doors down from our
hotel (across from Tivoli Gardens!) So, it was everything I had hoped for and more:
a gorgeous, sweeping period drama set in Norway at the turn of the century
with wolf-wild, filthy snarling half-orphans, tragic deaths, cellos, and incredible
cinematography, set and costume design. The casting is superb, from Gérard Depardieu
to Maria Bonnevie (who I loved in the role of Dina). Not only that, but two of my favorite
actors, Christopher Eccleston and Hans Matheson have roles as a foxy Russian anarchist,
and sexy stableboy, respectively. Swoon. If you’ve ever wanted to ask me about my who
my dreamboat crushes are, well there you go. Also, Ralph Fiennes and Tilda Swinton.
So now you know, just in case you wanted to send me a singing telegram from any of
those people. Right. So – I went right out to a bookstore after we saw the film and bought
two of the trilogy that inspired the film, by Herbjørg Wassmo. Sadly, these are hard to find
in the States as well, and my copies were lent out and lost – so if anyone in Scandinavia
would be willing to send me English translations of Lykkens sønn or Karnas arv (which
I don’t even think was ever translated, actually. Damn it.) I’d be so grateful! Let me know!

✸ Rima Staines of The Hermitage recently made a fantastic post about
Old Women Who Paint On Their Walls. These magic self-taught crones
channel their passion, fears, hopes and joy into maniacally beautiful
paintings that cover their homes from floor to ceiling. The remind me
a bit of Nita and Zita, the burlesque acrobats from New Orleans. Their
house on Dauphine Street was painted everywhere too! Nita and Zita
are my patron saints, and number one fashion and lifestyle inspirations.

“What fascinates me about these women is the obsessiveness in their painting.
Perhaps because they’ve kept a lid on their creativity all their lives, and it boils
over dramatically in their later years, we see wild, imaginative, otherworldly art
produced lavishly beyond the boundaries. There is a difference about it.
But the interesting thing is that it is not “Art” but paintings, all over the walls
of these women’s houses. This transgresses any staid assumption of social
boundary – i.e. what is or is not acceptable in one’s dwelling place.
It is too much. It is mad. And it is marvellous!
They are peasant frescoes, and are utterly truly-wrought I think.”
– Rima Staines, on Old Women Who Paint On Their Walls
and
“Those works created from solitude and from pure and authentic creative impulses –
where the worries of competition, acclaim and social promotion do not interfere –
are, because of these very facts, more precious than the productions of professionals.
After a certain familiarity with these flourishings of an exalted feverishness, lived so fully
and so intensely by their authors, we cannot avoid the feeling that in relation to these works,
cultural art in its entirety appears to be the game of a futile society, a fallacious parade.”
~ Jean Dubuffet. Place à l’incivisme (Make way for Incivism).
Art and Text no.27

✸ Dagnabit, but wouldn’t you know I went and missed the Annual Coney Island
Mermaid Parade again this year? Well, Tod Seelie Suckapants was there,
and he took lots of great pictures, which you can peer at in the following sets:
GHOST-FACED AND FRIENDLY
DISAPPEAR WHEN YOU DRAW NEAR
BOW DOWN AND DIE

Also, I highly suggest you develop an addiction for his blog, because not only
does he regularly post amazing photos of my friends making art, making music,
making out, or making giant messes but he always does fun giveaways, and he
usually posts great music for you to check out. He’s introduced me to a lot of stuff
I might never had heard otherwise, including my top heavy-duty rotation summer
anthem of the moment, which is Lissie’s cover of Kid Cudi’s song Pursuit of Happiness.
It’s my get to it music right now. I’m normally not turned on by folky girls covering rap
songs ironically (barf), but this is just really good. Also, on that note – if we’re gonna
get cute, let’s not fuck around right? Who knew the Carebears were Ice Cube fans?

(Photograph by Madi Ju)

✸ I just discovered The Ladies’ Guide to the Apocalypse
tonight, purely by chance (if you believe in that!) and am blown away.
I need to go eat nachos with Summer Burkes real soon, and I think we
all need to be reading about her experiences doing cleanup in the Gulf.
Read her writing on the I Ching, and prepare to knocked on your ass.
I was just explaining what the I Ching was to someone earlier tonight,
and this makes me want to get some yarrow stalks. My dad taught me
how do it with quarters when I was 11, and though I feel far more
connected to the tarot, the hexagrams are so elegant and powerful.

✸ Welcome to East Austin! from The Hipstercrite
This is my neighborhood: sweet little alleys with junkyard dogs and magic
and also ridiculous modern condos that stick out like sore thumbs. Strange mix,
for sure – but here we are. A lot of them are just standing empty now. It’s be nice
if some families came and brought all their car parts and kids and cats and just
filled them up with life and barbecue and loud tejano on the radio. Fingers crossed!

✸ On the subject of hipsters, Alan Moore expounds on
his definition in an excellent interview in The Quietus by John Doran.

JD: “You’re proud of your status as a hipster. Do you regret
the way it’s become a disparaging, pejorative term now?

AM: Has it? Yeah, that’s probably true. It used to be a fashion statement,
but it was information as a fashion statement which is probably going to do
you more good than the clothing you wear. I got an incredible education starting
from the point at which I was thrown out of school. Now, I could probably hold my
own intellectually with most people who have had university or college educations.
And indeed some of them will have done courses on my books. So, despite the fact
my ‘education’ ended at 16, I had hipsterism, which was wanting to be hip, and that
led me to read this incredibly diverse array of books on science, mysticism, science
fiction, literature, art… I would find out about these movements that I had heard about,
and it’s given me a pretty comprehensive education. Now I am an autodidact,
which is a great word… I learned it myself.”
and this:
“Everybody is becoming [a superhero]. In the past I’ve tried to say,
‘Look, we are all crappy superheroes,’ because personal computers
and mobile phone devices are things that only Bat Man and Mr Fantastic
would have owned back in the sixties. We’ve all got this immense power
and we’re still sat at home watching pornography and buying scratch cards.
We’re rubbish, even though we are as gods. I think the idea that we can all be
superheroes if we want might still be contagious, like in V For Vendetta.
I’ve heard of urban superheroes springing up across the world.
I think there’s one in London called Angle-grinder Man…”

✸ Recently a caravan of friends went to go see Lois,
the Amorphophallus titanum blooming now at the
Houston Museum of Natural Science, but alas,
she was being shy that day! There have been quite a few blooms
here and there, and if you get the chance to experience it, you’re a lucky one
indeed. I hope at some point in my life, I will get to smell the corpse-tastic aroma!

FUNKWATCH: Corpse flower “On The Bloom”

✸ Care and Feeding of a Mermaid – superb vintage footage from 1961 (found via Miss Swissmiss)

✸ Inspired? You can make a mermaid tail of you very own! Finally!

(l’araignée, la maîtresse et la mandarine)
Louise Bourgeois: The Spider, The Mistress and The Tangerine

“My emotions are inappropriate for my size. My emotions are my demons.” – Louise Bourgeois

“I am not what I am, I am what I do with my hands.” – Louise Bourgeois

✶ I’m very excited to hear that The Invention of Hugo Cabret
will be made into a film soon (directed by Scorsese, in 3D no less!)
It’s really a little redundant, as the book is such a work of wonder.
If you’ve not come across it yet, I entreat you to do so — promptly!

✶ Also, I’m waiting with baited breath for this:
THE THOUSAND AUTUMNS OF JACOB DE ZOET by David Mitchell
Mitchell is probably my favorite living author. For real.

✶ B. Traven: A Mystery Solved
I’ve been totally absorbed in this fascinating BBC Documentary
about the elusive author, thanks to Rusty Lazer who turned me
on to his books in a late-night kitchen-table mind-meld recently.
I realized after hearing a description of this man, that the author
in Roberto Bolaño’s 2666 had to be based on none other!
I just bought The Savage Detectives today.
My summer reading list is gettin’ real tasty — blankets and margaritas and books, ahoy!

✶ Does anyone here remember this movie playing on television all the time?:
“Just One Of The Guys, the 1985 crossdressing teen comedy that
seamlessly integrated boob shots and gender discrimination critiques”
This movie made a huge impression on me when I was wee! I loved it, a lot.

✶ WILD WOMAN: TALLULAH BANKHEAD
I love Tallulah — hooray for Violetville!

✶ If you’ve ever asked a doctor if you could keep a piece of your body
they’ve recently extracted, or if you’re obsessed with the ballet, (or
my case, both apply) then you absolutely must read this article:
A Ballerina, Inside Out – by Toni Bentley
“A ballet dancer goes onstage on a given night, in a specific theater,
in a specific ballet and executes, in a specific fraction of musical time
a movement that is already past just as it appears. And it takes far more
than 10,000 hours of practice and repetition to make this movement exquisite,
worthy. A dancer’s entire career consists of these moments of non-existence;
they are not even fleeting, they are, somehow, never there at all,
a shadow in someone else’s mind at best.”

So brilliant. Many thanks to Odette O. for sending me the link!
She’s also the one that turned me on to this – (which I must see!):

✶ The Desert of Forbidden Art
“How does art survive in a time of oppression? During the Soviet rule
artists who stay true to their vision are executed, sent to mental hospitals or Gulags.
Their plight inspires young Igor Savitsky. He pretends to buy state-approved art
but instead daringly rescues 40,000 forbidden fellow artist’s works and creates
a museum in the desert of Uzbekistan, far from the watchful eyes of the KGB.
Though a penniless artist himself, he cajoles the cash to pay for the art from
the same authorities who are banning it. Savitsky amasses an eclectic mix
of Russian Avant-Garde art. But his greatest discovery is an unknown school
of artists who settle in Uzbekistan after the Russian revolution of 1917,
encountering a unique Islamic culture, as exotic to them as Tahiti was for Gauguin.
They develop a startlingly original style, fusing European
modernism with centuries-old Eastern traditions.”
See also: ART; In a Far Desert, a Startling Trove of Art

✶ 36 chilling photos of last Wednesday’s earthquake in Yushu, China (via brainpickings)
So many earthquakes. Volcanos. The end times are feelin’ kinda nigh, eh?

✶ This is one of my very favorite Siouxsie and the Banshees songs:
- Il Est Né le Divin Enfant (It’s a very grainy rip of a televised performance
of a French Christmas carol that was the b-side to 1982′s “Melt!”)
(Thank you, dear Monsieur Scythrop!)

✶ I love, love, love, love this:
Marina Abramović Made Me Cry
Thanks for the link, Tavi and thank you for your work Marina!

✶ New favorite blog: Ephemera Assemblyman

✶ Loving this: Miu Miu in Japan from Mlle. Clever Nettle!

✶ Other new favorite blog: Crappy Taxidermy
It’s my favorite kind! The rattier and weirder, the better.

✶ Okay, and one more thing:
LOST Tarot Cards by Alex Griendling
(These are beautifully designed!
Hi, I collect tarot decks and I’m a dork. Gimme.)

What are you reading/singing/loving right now? Do tell!

Isn’t this the most amazing painting? I’m cursing myself for
not buying it when I had the chance. Luckily, I got to take a
picture before it was swept away. Look at the giant grasshopper!
I just want to hang out with big green bugs and talking irises and be five.
Can that be arranged? Thanks. Damn, why isn’t this painting mine? Foolish!

Here’s another wonderfully naive iris painting. I love the bare trees in the
background and the crackling paint. It’s kind of sweet and depressing all
at the same time. We get some really great artworks by mysterious painters
in the shop fairly often. I have the urge to start collecting some of them,
but I know what a slippery slope that is! My collections are already pretty
out of hand as it is. But, still. I guess if I had nabbed the first creepy iris
painting, I would’ve had to get this one too, right? That’s a pretty obscure
genre: weird iris paintings! I suppose it’s really for the best. Alas, alack.

Instead, how about I collect real irises, and iris perfume?
I remember endlessly poring over iris catalogues with my
mama. Even then, I was obsessed with the pure black and
bright blue irises, the odd green ones and the bi-colors and
tiger striped ones. I love their regal beards and crazy names.
Irises are pretty metal, as far as flowers go. Case in point,
the one I can’t wait to order for my metal-loving blacksmith
boyfriend: Anvil of Darkness! Hell yes. We’re going to have
the most hardcore garden. So far, we have some lovely purple irises
that Violet planted, and white ones from our sweet botanist friend.
I have to wait until Fall to plant more, so in the meantime I’ve been
dabbling with Iris scents. I’d always wanted to try Bois d’Iris
by The Different Company, but I have to say – it’s just not ringing my bells.
The notes are: iris, vetiver, bergamot, cedar, narcissus, geranium and musk,
but I’m only getting old lady. My favorite perfume blog, Now Smell This
describes the sensation of wearing Bois d’Iris as “…closer to being in an
undergound tunnel, with the smell of damp wood and roots.”
I wish I could agree, as I feel like I’m missing the damp and earthen
root smell I crave. In Le Labo Iris 39 sounds more my style with iris
“as earthy and inviting as a rundown house with a wild garden”
I’d also love to try Serge Lutens Iris Silver Mist one day,
though it’s probably too civilized for a beast like me.

“For Iris Silver Mist, for instance, the idea came to him
in a Moroccan bookshop that he should look for an iris
so refined, so almost grey, that it could be worn by a man
in a grey flannel suit as easily as by woman.
— From Seducer of The Senses,
a long profile of Serge Lutens in the Financial Times.

Sodden rose-petals on the front porch. Cross your fingers that it keeps
raining all spring. We need it! Our roses are going crazy – busting out
in fuschia and lavender all over the place. I do love me some wild roses.
I think these look like pomegranate kernels, do you see it too?

Mlle. Verhext’s sweetheart + husband to be, Mr. Lee
sent us the sweetest parcel filled with mangosteens (aka. mogwai eggs!)
and (holy cats) Amorphophallus konjac corms! We are going to have voodoo lilies!
Hello, dream come true! On a much graver note,
please, please send good finding energy to Tam’s friend Alex.
She’s been missing for almost a week now. If you’re in the Bay
Area, or have friends that are, please take a minute to re-post
the information about her. I can tell that she’s an amazing person,
and my heart is clenched up wondering where she is.

More treasures from Uncommon Objects:
the best rabbit brooch ever, a very handsome pocketwatch,
and some Victorian woven-hair mourning jewelry. I want it all.

Oh, and here’s another intriguing painting from the shop! Luckily,
my friend and colleague Jeff bought this one, so I can go visit it.
It was painted by a man named Richard Wilt,
in 1951. Jeff was so intrigued by it that he looked up some information,
and ended up talking on the phone to Richard’s widow! She remembered
the piece well, and was very happy to talk about her husband’s work.
Everything we come in contact with at Uncommon Objects has a story -
sometimes we make them up, but sometimes we get to solve mysteries.
Often, I can hold something old and let it tell me its story. Have you ever
had that sensation? Psychometry. I’d like to get better at it. By the way,
I really love my job – I’m super lucky to be able to work in such a creative
place that’s constantly stimulating my imagination with magic, history and art.
I’ve worked some awful jobs in the past though, and I wish I had read this
back then: ordinary magic – part 2 (via Lorra Faye and Gala Darling – thanks ladies!)

A miraculous thing happened the other day – my sweetheart found a magical dumpster
filled with all sorts of wonderful things. The very best was this killer cotton candy maker:

As you can see, it works very well indeed. The process is quite magical, like
there’s a big spider hidden in the hot coil that spools the sugar out into clouds.
We made pink peppermint and blue lavender candyfloss, and it was the prettiest
and tastiest we’d ever had. We even started making it with turbinado sugar, so
we could feel a little less guilty about playing herds of children with it. Needless
to say, whoever was operating the cotton candy machine was the star of the
Easter party! The little yickens were totally transfixed, sugar maniacs in heaven.

Colin is so happy and proud of his sweet machine! Adorable, adored.

He also found me this cake-shaped porcelain vase in the same dumpster!
Gene Tierney presents it for our delectation. She lives on my lavatory door.

The sweetest little duckling that was gifted to me for my birthday made her
way onto my Easter bonnet – photographic evidence to follow!

I love the illustration style from this 1920′s children’s book so much.
The graceful branches, the owls and lanterns!
The pastel cicadas and the full moon. It sends me.

This little poem from the same book is a keeper, too.

Check out this kick-ass Ozma of Oz tattoo! She’s basically my very first style
icon. I still am obsessed with that style of headdress. I need to make more!

We rolled out of bed after far too little sleep for the free matinee
showing of The Dark Crystal at the Alamo Drafthouse recently.
Can you believe this skeksis lamp? I cannot. The lightbulb looks
like a purple shard! It was so fantastic seeing this film on the big
screen! It’s such a work of genius! I’m so inspired by the creatures
in this film. If by some shocking twist of fate, you’ve managed never
to see it – then I adjure you to remedy that immediately. Okay?

I do not know the provenance of this photo, unfortunately. I tried using TinEye,
to no avail. Anyhow, it makes me inordinately happy to see such a tiny snake
(and his giant friend, the berry.) Sometimes we see these guys in the garden.

Mysterious snake appears in painting of Queen Elizabeth I
Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Mlle. Verhext!

The Little Horn Speakers: I require these. No, but really. $1850, though! Hurts.

Child-headed whiplash-tail Blengins, courtesy of Mr. Darger.

Go peer at my tumblr mosaic viewer!
It’s an ingenious Japanese site I discovered through the equally ingenious
Journey Round My Skull. Kind of solves the problem I have with tumblr
regarding organization and searchability. You can click on any image
and jump to it (or re-blog it, if you’re looking at someone else’s mosaic.)
I can play with it endlessly! Thank you to whoever created this tiny wonder.

More delicious tidbits to peruse:

✶ Go check out the art of Nicomi Nix Turner and her store, Specimen Jar why don’t you?

✶ Many thanks to Miss Anya (Clever Nettle) for dazzling me
with Tim Walker’s gorgeous Lady Gray spread from this month’s
Vogue Italia. It it very happy-making indeed.

✶ Edward Gorey collection at the Ransom Center Field trip, anyone? I don’t take advantage of this place enough.
It is a repository for some truly mind-blowing collections. Must to go!

✶ A wonderful International Women’s Day collage from boywhocameback

✶ The Math Behind Geometric Hallucinations – Uncoiling the spiral: Maths and hallucinations

✶ Style Icon: Cayce Pollard from William Gibson’s “Pattern Recognition”
from NOGOODFORME.COM, which is my latest happy discovery.
From the very excellent piece, by Kat Asharya:

“Reading Pattern Recognition is a great experience on many levels.
While it divided some of the Gibson faithful who missed the futuristic setting
and the cyberpunk attitude of his other novels (oh, fanboys!), it’s also one of
the few novels I’ve read that really got into the heart on how technology and
the Internet really shape people’s emotional lives and experience, not to mention
grappled intelligently with a post-9/11 landscape. (It’s also awesome when a dude
in a kind of dudecentric genre like sci-fi writes really incredible female characters
that are defined by their abilities, intellect and emotional lives rather than by their
plot convenience and exploited sexuality. William Gibson, you effin’ rock.”

Hear, hear! This makes me hungry to re-read the book!

Related posts:

✶ Snakes + Leather

✶ Flotsam and Jetsam

(Photo by David Sledge)

http://dlennis.wordpress.com/

(Photograph by D L Ennis)

This is the season when everything grows darker,
and I find myself attracted to heavier, richer smells
of burnished wood, spices and comforting treats.
Many of my deepest memories are awakened
by the aroma of a sudden cold breeze,
a waft of cinnamon, wet earth, bonfires.
Capturing these without cloying or too
heavy-handed is very difficult, but there are
a few who really succeed. I’m always excited to
try new things, so if there are any you love
tell me, do! To be honest, autumnal scents
are what I want to wear most of the time,
but they are not always appropriate for warm
weather. I love rich, dark and spicy perfumes,
thick with russian leather, smoky tea,
and woods of all kinds. I think I also need
to find a good in-between seasons stand-by.
I’m leaning towards Diptyque’s Tam Dao,
an elegant dry sandalwood which I am
adding to my dream wishlist.

I’ve been wearing a combination of my
all time favorites lately, as they blend
nicely together and seem to last longer
when worn that way. Sometimes I’ll also
dab on a little essential oil to boost it up
a few notches: usually Oakmoss, Myrrh,
Texas Cedarwood, Frankincense or Vetiver.

Roots by Oshadhi
This is my all-time favorite number one smell.
Absolutely my signature scent! (I try not to be too
territorial about it, but it’s weird to smell it on someone else…)
I’m out of it right now, actually, and that’s just not right.
It’s sort of hard to find, so if you ever come across it
and want to make me incredibly happy,
this is one fail-safe method!

When I was in New York earlier this fall,
I had the opportunity to visit CB I Hate Perfume,
the haven of smell and memory created by
Christopher Brosius. He is a delightful genius!
Keep an eye out for my interview with him in
the upcoming issue of Coilhouse Magazine.
All of the blends below are ideal for Fall,
and there are quite a few more there I’m lusting
after, Cedarwood Tea and Gingerbread in particular.

Burning Leaves
I’ve been wearing this one every day.
It’s the smell burning maple leaves, pure and simple.
“Not everyone has your passion for dead leaves.”
Jane Austen – Sense & Sensibility
I do! I find it to be totally intoxicating.

The Wild Hunt
“Wild Hunt is the scent of an ancient forest
in the heat of a summer afternoon.
It is a blend of Torn Leaves, Crushed Twigs,
Flowing Sap, Fallen Branches, Old Leaves,
Green Moss, Fir, Pine and Tiny Mushrooms.”
It is a wholly feral scent – a perfume for beasts!

M3 November
“Pumpkin Pie, Fallen Apples, Bonfire, Wood Smoke,
Dried Grass, Fallen Leaves, Wet Branches, Damp Moss,
Chanterelle Mushrooms and a hint of Pine Forest”
I have a little sample of this one that I’ve been playing with -
it’s a very complex, layered perfume that makes me feel
simultaneously cold and cozy. Very delicious.

This is my favorite photo of Vali Myers,
who is my number one witch-woman inspiration and style icon.
She was an Australian sorceress-artist from Australia who lived
in on the Rive Gauche in Paris, in the Chelsea Hotel in NYC
(her art still hangs there!) and in a castle on the beach in Positano, Italy.
She had pet foxes and lots of young lovers, and I would have given
my left pinky toe to have met her before she died. I’ve been thinking
about foxes a lot, since seeing Neko, and also Fantastic Mr. Fox.
If you haven’t seen it yet, I must entreat you to go, as it is so very
sweet and happymaking with lots of dancing animals
and a gorgeous autumnal palette. It cheered me up immensely,
and now I must go find a copy of the book, which I haven’t ever read
though I adore Roald Dahl. Have you read it, or seen the film? Thoughts?

There are some more gourmand perfumes
I’ve been intrigued by- I have samples of both
of these, but found them slightly too sweet.
I tend to wear men’s colognes, so I need
a bit of danger in there! Some cojones, eh?

Tea for Two by L’Artisan –
“Tea for Two celebrates the precious moment
of sharing tea and spicy bread with someone special.
The curling steam of smoky Lapsang Souchong
hides mouthwatering spices of cinnamon, ginger and anise.
Lightly sweetened by honey and vanilla,
the fragrance is fiery and warm, provocative and mysterious.
Deliciously spicy!
Notes: smoky tea, bergamot, cinnamon, ginger, honey, vanilla”

I really want to adore this one, because the name
and description make me think of the last afternoon
my grandfather and I spent in Brussels.
After exploring the fabulous flea markets,
vintage shops and art nouveau architecture
we found the most delightful little tea-shop
to sit and nibble fancy sandwiches and
petit-fours in. One of my happiest memories
ever is thinking of my grandfather and I
waiting for a taxi afterwards, he in his
wheelchair and me doing a little dance
as we sang “Tea for Two” together.

Speaking of Belgium and magical women, the lovely Mlle. Viona
is from there. I love this image of her, even though it’s one of her
less elaborate ensembles – The Grain Girl is just perfection.
Now go and spend hours poring over her incredible costumes
and photographs, if you haven’t already – I promise you’ll thank me later!

Five O’Clock Au Gingembre by Serge Lutens
The Black Luminous Intensity of Ginger
How fabulous is Mimi Frou Frou’s description of this magic elixir?
Um, very! You must go read all about it, but here’s an excerpt
for the nonce – just see if it doesn’t make you want to buy a bottle!
“The palette is gourmand but also composed
of dark tints and literally makes use of black,
a rare sensation in a perfume if not in the visual arts.
Having, consciously at least, forgotten about the insistence
on the color black in Serge Lutens’ description of the scent
in which he makes references to a black Rolls Royce
and a black Wedgwood tea service, one is reminded of it
suddenly as the unusual sensation of a ginger fragrance
that is both luminous and black suddenly unfolds,
letting out the sheen of a branch of jet-black coral.
It is like seeing the eclipse of a normal sensation,
be it the paleness of the moon
or the golden rays of the sun shutting down.
Five O’ Clock thus suggests the midnight-eclipse
version of a ginger fragrance losing its solar quality
to become bitumen-like, tarry, while some light is shone
into the composition anew thanks to citrus-y notes
and the golden glow of honey.
It is therefore a very sophisticated rendering of ginger.
Official notes and accords: bergamot, candied ginger,
honey, pepper, dark cocoa, meltingly soft cookie,
gingerbread, patchouli, vetiver.”

I bought a print of The String Game recently from Miss Katy Horan.
I fell in love with her artwork a while back,
and was thrilled to find out that she had moved to Austin.
Now we work together at Uncommon Objects,
which is fantastic. We have secret Ouija board
seance plans! Her new work featuring alien-witch
lace crones is very hypnotic. Very affordable prints
and such are available in her etsyshop, check it out!
(Uh-oh! I just realized that she’s sold out of everything!
Let’s all cross our fingers, and hope she restocks soon, mm?)

Has anyone tried
Bois d’Ombrie by Eau d’Italie yet?
It sounds incredible. WANT!
Here’s a wonderful description from Mlle. Victoria of Bois de Jasmin:
“The scent of Bois d’Ombrie has autumnal associations
given its nutty plumminess reminiscent of fallen leaves,
its smoky dryness evoking bonfires and its intoxicating
tangy sweetness conjuring the aroma of spiced wine.
I do not know why a fragrance inspired by Italian woods
would evoke an image of Ukrainian rainy autumns,
but for me this fact is undeniable. The somber chill
of iris gently leads into the honeyed warmth of leather
and tobacco. A dried plum note weaves in and out
of the composition, teasing like the refrain of a familiar
melody escaping from an open window.
Warm, mellow and slightly rustic,
Bois d’Ombrie dries down into a myrrh
dominated etude of leather and woods.”

Perfume blogs have become my guilty pleasure,
and I’ve discovered some wonderful writers out
there who seem to have similar taste to my own.
Here’s a couple more, expounding on their favorite
perfumes for Autumn weather – enjoy!

Autumn Smells
from Elena Vosnaki at Perfume Shrine

Perfume Cravings In The Fall: Cornucopia of Dark Fruits
from Marie-Helene Wagner aka. Mimi Frou Frou at The Scented Salamander
Be sure to also check out her five part series (!) on
North-American Originals: Perfumers on Fall & Winter.
So much amazing stuff there! I stand in awe, truly.

Turkeys are such strange birds. Ugly-beautiful,
and regal-ridiculous. Have you ever seen one flying wild?
It’s like a giant feathered cannonball shot through the woods.
Hilarious and shocking. We saw wild turkeys in Osyka Springs,
Mississippi when we used to go camping there. They are huge!
I feel bad about it, but I’m going to eat one today. Sorry Mr. Turkey!

“In the end, it seems that only the English dispensed completely
with both the American and the Indian origins of the huexoloti.
English importers dealt with the same Turkish merchants who
exported the huexoloti to Russia, to Iran, to Poland,
to The Netherlands, to Sweden, and even to India.
But the English, being English, did not need all of the pedigree
words that came along with the bird. They could not be bothered
with all of that linguistic falderal. The birds came from Turkish merchants—
“135 of the creatures bought at 4 shillings a piece” in 1555—
and, to describe what they were in his ledger,
the English importer created a new English word—“Turkies” (OED).
And, once again, the elastic vacuum cleaner that is the English language
got a new word and the huexoloti got a new and permanent name—
at least for the English speaking world.”
–“Our Turkish-American Thanksgiving Bird,”
by Larry E. Tise, History News Network

I found this, and many other fascinating Thanksgiving tidbits
from Harper’s links page. For hexmas, I plan on renewing my
Harper’s Weekly subscription. I hate the paper waste of magazines,
but I’m addicted. I read them in the bath. I have a subscription to
Interview magazine, Lucky (which was free, and accidental),
and Mother Earth News (that one is actually Colin’s, but I do
read it sometimes). Oh yes, and Cabinet Magazine, which is
my most favorite! On my subscription wishlist?
The Believer and Lula. Do you subscribe to any periodicals?

Today, I am thankful for Neko Case (among many other things,
which I shall enumerate below). She came in to Uncommon Objects
a few times this week, and totally made my day by putting us
on the guestlist for her sold-out benefit show at Antone’s.
It was my first excursion since the surgery, and it was so
great to be able to sit down and see the show from the lofty
vantage point of the nice VIP area the have up there.
I don’t think I could’ve managed being squashed in that crowd!
I’ve been super dizzy and queasy still, so I’ve been taking it
pretty slow. I’m still cursing myself for missing Larkin Grimm,
Final Fantasy and The Mountain Goats play there last week-
especially knowing now that I could’ve seen the show from
a comfortable perch! Alas, I was beat and in no condition
to be in public anyway. Soon, I hope to be fully restored
to my former powers! I’ve been getting some acupuncture,
and eating lots of magical porridges. Heal, body, heal!
The show was amazing, and Neko is so sweet and
down-to-earth. If you’re not familiar with her music, I suggest
you get to steppin’ and buy her last two albums to start out with.
I enjoyed watching these mini-documentaries her label made
to accompany those releases, do take a peek:

Fox Confessor Brings the Flood

Middle Cyclone

I’m not completely certain, but I reckon that this bit of loveliness
is from the inimitable Miss Alison Scarpulla. True or false?

(Thanksgiving, by John Currin)

I’ve been doing a lot of meditation on gratitude lately,
and really trying to absorb the immensity of richness
in my life, and find a way to properly express my thanks
for all that I have been given. Recently, I’ve been totally
overwhelmed by the response of so many kind souls
who have offered help, food, company, wishes and love
to me during this ordeal. It has been truly humbling,
and I can only hope to be worthy of that love.
I’m working on making my thanks known
(very slowly, alas!) and finding ways to
pay that love forward on to others. Many lessons
learned lately! I am so incredibly thankful for
my amazing friends and family, for my crazy little
abode, for my sweet animal companions, for my
wonderful workplace and all those in it, for good
weather, my full belly, my warm bed, and the
sweet person I share it with most especially.
I try to never forget for an instant how damn lucky I am.
Thank you to anyone who is reading this right now,
for taking the time to be a part of my life.
I am wishing that your holiday is warm and
full of magic, and that you may be extra lucky too.

(Photo by Marie Edwards)

Let’s all go roll off the roof into giant piles of leaves!
Okay, not really. At least some leaf-pile stomping should
commence today, however. It’s just barely fall, here!
The leaves are drifting down, leaving the trees naked
and bereft of their susurrations. Maybe I’ll actually
get to wear a sweater or a coat soon, eh? Bizarre.

For your viewing pleasure, from The Masters of Russian Animation,
Alexander Petrov’s Rusalka. It’s painted on glass, I believe – so stunning.
Thanks for this to the very lovely Rima Staines of The Hermitage!

A few more tidbits, to aid your digestion -
one from NPR, very beautiful insect cabinets
and story, and a few tales from the bee-log back when:

The Butterflies And Beetles Behind Evolution

Russet + Bone

Zlata klic – In that far field.

“Gypsy Interiors is a series of portraits capturing the private world of these outwardly loud,
vivacious people. Here he finds a rich and profound intimacy, hidden but exhibited among
antique furniture, tapestries, paintings, religious images, china, staircases and mirrors,
set into large rooms or sometimes minimized in empty spaces waiting to be filled.
Images of women sitting on elegant sofas or portrayed during intimate family moments,
young people lounging on beds in their luxurious rooms, elders immortalized amongst
their mementoes, proud faces of parents admiring their children. These are portraits of
a people wanting to show that they have finally succeeded in finding and forging
a place and a dignified future within our society, without losing the gypsy values,
handed down orally, that come from the hearts of their ancestors.”

☛ I’ve been totally fascinated by Carlo Gianferro’s series of photographs
of Roma/Gypsy interiors. I stare at them again and again, trying to parse
their distinct style that mixes futurist deco curves, and dacha sentimentality,
with caravan coziness, and outrageous bling. Larger images can be seen
courtesy of Mr. Saturnic. I deeply desire both the Roma/Gypsy Interiors
book and the Gypsy Architecture book. That is a very unsubtle hint, yes?
They are both just mind-blowing – I need them to pore over continually, please.

(This photograph, and the next were taken by Baby Cujo)

☛ Stumbling upon a fine specimen of tumbleweave
never ceases to bring me joy. This urban phenomenon
is documented in a flickr group devoted to tracking lost
weaves in the wild. I know I’ve lost my share!
Oh, little weave! Wherefore art thou?

☛ neithersnow
I am in love with this beautiful calligraphy, (thanks Nubby!)
Handwriting is incredibly important to me. I can instantly adore someone,
without ever having met them – based on their handwriting! My beloved
stepmom has amazing handwriting, and is incredibly gifted at handwriting
analysis. I’ve learned a few things from her, over the years. Most importantly,
she gave me the impetus to work on my own hand, by giving me my first
calligraphy set. It transformed my awkward, hateful adolescent penmanship
into something slightly more graceful. I don’t write as much as I’d like to lately,
(with a pen, anyhow) so there’s much room for improvement. I really believe
that you can change your temperament by working on your handwriting.

☛ I stumbled upon A Silent Flute’s super blog the other night,
and got hooked on his crazy mixes. Good writing music.
Also good if you’re Tina Chow. On a yacht. In the moonlight.
Wearing all white. Oh yeah. I’ll go ahead and stop now, I guess.

☛ One late night over gin cocktails in New York,
Miss Allison told me a strange tale
about cow tongues nailed to trees in the park. Spookytown.
Bizarre find in Prospect Park –

☛ More late-night discoveries! Thanks to Agent Revo,
who turned me on to the insane video-art of Ryan Trecartin:

“If I didn’t take the liberties to glue these prop knobs
onto my safe space, who would you think that I’d be?”
Perfect for those times when you’ve worked yourself into a frenzy,
and you need to encounter something more spastic and insane
than your own brain. We’re talkin’ about serious cracktivities, children!

☛ I am ENFP, on the Myers-Brigg’s doo-dad.
What are you? Want to know what it’s like to
be me? This thing is so accurate, it’s crazy.

☛ Schadenfreude, much? Regretsy makes me cackle
and cover my eyes simultaneously. Some folks maybe
should not be given access to hot-glue guns, or the internets.

☛ Got any more late-night wonders for me? Float my boat, babies.

I went to the marvelous Observatory Room for an opening
of James Walsh’s show regarding plague clouds.

“A series of letterpress prints, the black cloud, will be presented in the gallery.
Late in life, the English writer and art critic John Ruskin (1819-1900) became
obsessed with what he called variously the black cloud or storm cloud
or plague cloud or black wind or plague wind or evil wind or black fog,
a new and unexplained weather phenomenon that cast a pall over nature
and human affairs and had something to do with the advent of modern times.
It was a purely meteorological occurrence, to his mind, though no meteorologist
had noticed it, and it was not produced by his loneliness, his failure in love,
or his increasingly common and sustained bouts of madness. He brought
all these observations together in his essay “The Storm-Cloud of the Nineteenth Century,”
and his journals from this period contain minute descriptions of this phenomenon
and its effect on the landscape and his mind and spirit.
Working from his journals, fragments of text relating to the black cloud were traced,
made into printing plates, and printed in an edition of ten on a Vandercook proof press.”

I found a strange correspondence between the apparition of looming
thunderheads above and Ruskin’s black clouds, as far as my sudden
malaise in New York was concerned. It was brought on by a vicious
encounter with cheap, poisonous incense and sustained for weeks
by an acute wind-fire deficiency. It really put a cramp in my style.

This pretty much sums up my feelings for the duration of my journey,
sad to say. Between falling horribly ill and being hog-tied by one of
the most brutal Mercury Retrogrades in recent history, it was kinda
one of those trips – with incredible flashes of magic and wonder
interspersed amongst the chaos and stress. I met and connected
with some incredible new friends, and that made it all worth it.
Also, I had a gift from the universe in being blessed, every single
time, with the kindest and most magical taxi drivers. It was amazing.
They helped me over and over again, even if we were totally lost.
Thank you, universe, for helping me flag down the most generous
and convivial cabbies in all of New York. They consistently
under-charged me, were great conversationalists, and showed
me much sweetness. Thank you, especially to the Tibetan lady
who gave me a yellow rose at 5am – it was an honor to meet you.

Public transport, I have not so many nice things to say about.
Usually, I love the trains. This time, well- they were not functioning
properly, and it was enormously frustrating. I did love crossing the
Brooklyn Bridge everyday, and seeing the sun shining on the water.

Speaking of kindness, my wolf-nurse-magic-friend-sister, Miss Shine Earnesty
made me brunch in bed! She took care of me when I was sick. I love her.

We went to see the new works at Socrates Sculpture Park
on Governor’s Island. There were many fine pieces there, my favorites
being the huge flensed vinyl whale, the subway stop and David Brooks‘
wooden path through a copse of trees. Still, it was this sloppy concrete tower
of cakes that stuck with me- mainly because of the lyrics inscribed on the side:

“MacArthur’s Park is melting in the dark
All the sweet, green icing flowing down…
Someone left the cake out in the rain
I don’t think that I can take it
’cause it took so long to bake it
And I’ll never have that recipe again
Oh, no! “

Well, it was only a tiny excerpt really, but it was enough to jog
my memory… Miss Violet used to rhapsodize about that song,
which is constantly stuck in my head lately.
It is so weird, and so great- especially when sung
by Donna Summer, in an insane disco extravaganza!

I also really love The Three Degrees,
performing it live in London, 1975.

Headed out to Disko Nouveaux, for a night of dark-sparkle
dancings. I met the fabulous Shien and Miss Allison, as well as a whole
bevy of beauties. This is one of the only pictures I took of myself while I
was in New York, except for the languishing in bed photo, and one I took
of myself in Frida Kahlo’s mirror, which really didn’t turn out, alas.
There’s this one, though, taken by Gabi, in which you can see my shaveness better.

I love the beavers of Astor Place.

Oh Topshop, why are you so evil? I so wanted all your insane platform shoes
and sequined leggings and beaded shrugs. Why can these minty metallic
sorcerous shoes not be mine? There were so many things there to drool over…

While we’re on the topic of shiny wonders, if you happen to be flying into
or out of Austin anytime soon, check out my sweetie’s amazing organisms.
His nickel plated hand-forged steel sculptures are on display at the airport!

Coming home in my silver capsule. Flying is so surreal.

Oh New York, next time I see you, things will be better.
We’ll have coffee, and talk and it will be like no time has
passed at all. You know I still love you, right?