For you, from me, with love - 4/16

[dropcap custom_class="normal"] E[/dropcap]ye candy: Do you love the skin you're in?


I'm really digging Nobel laureate Herta Muller's speech on The Space Between Languages.

And also these words from Bernadette Jiwa: "The artist’s mission is to communicate beauty and also to help people connect with that beauty —and through doing so they connect with themselves. People don’t buy into your platform. They buy into the difference that you make."

This story about a 13-year-old eagle huntress in Mongolia (with freakin' amazing photos) has been all over the Interwebs today. And for good reason.

Oh, hey. When the French clock off at 6 p.m., they mean it. (Why again am I not living in France?)

Fascinating NYT article on how digital media is changing the fashion industry.

Some macro-photographed snails. Yes, really.

A beautiful short film about bubbles and life and death. And more bubbles.

And last but in no way least ...

For my friend Amber who is a rock-star runner heading to Boston this weekend, and all the other marathoners, this video. It'll probably make you tear up. That's OK. Crying is a good thing.


For you, from me, with love - 4/9

[dropcap custom_class="normal"] E [/dropcap]ye Candy: Paris in the Spring.

Bright blooms everywhere. ParisFlowers

An awesome article by Danny Schreiber on Zapier about how to get more done than you ever thought possible. Tips on how to more efficiently curate your daily news and when to send someone an email versus when to turn the response into a blog post, plus way more. 

The Five Minute Journal is pretty cool. Their new app might be even cooler. I've been using it for three days now, and aside from early bugs, I'm quite enjoying it.

Oh my gosh, this poem by Naomi Shihab Nye from Words Under the Words: Selected Poems

The Art of Disappearing

When they say Don't I know you? say no.

When they invite you to the party remember what parties are like before answering. Someone telling you in a loud voice they once wrote a poem. Greasy sausage balls on a paper plate. Then reply.

If they say We should get together say why?

It's not that you don't love them anymore. You're trying to remember something too important to forget. Trees. The monastery bell at twilight. Tell them you have a new project. It will never be finished.

When someone recognizes you in a grocery store nod briefly and become a cabbage. When someone you haven't seen in ten years appears at the door, don't start singing him all your new songs. You will never catch up.

Walk around feeling like a leaf. Know you could tumble any second. Then decide what to do with your time.

Adding to the To-Read ListDelancey: A Man, A Woman, A Restaurant, A Marriage

The New York Times asks: With so much out there "out there," where do we find generational social connection?

Prepping the kitchen — Why, yes, I do love pistachios. And lemons. And cake. Pistachio Lemon Pound Cake


Thought for a Thursday: Shine

Mural[dropcap custom_class="normal"] "O [/dropcap]ur deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.

We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be? ... There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do.

... And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.

As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

From A Return to Love, by Marianne Williamson

Beating myself up

CoffeeCup[dropcap custom_class="normal"] T [/dropcap]his morning at my usual coffee shop a guy asked if he could share my table. It was a wide four-top, and while I tend to spread out, I certainly didn’t need all the space, so I said sure. I kept working on my laptop. Until the table began to shake lightly.

I glanced up. My tablemate had his cup of joe in one hand, his cell phone in the other. He was listening to music through some (really big) headphones – and tapping to the beats on the table.

I was annoyed.

I mumbled in my head.

I felt myself getting worked up.

I complained on Facebook about it. (I do love social media. Instant support!)

After about fifteen minutes, I packed up and left. (He was still there, apparently oblivious.)

And now, I’m kinda pissed at myself. It had been my table. My space he entered. (As much as a table at a coffee shop can be, at least.) And rather than say something to him, I retreated. What is it in some of us that keeps us from speaking up? That keeps us from standing our ground? Really, I should have been able to look up, catch his eye, and ask him (politely, of course) to (please) stop tapping the table. How hard would that have been?

But I couldn’t. I. Just. Couldn’t. I didn’t want to be seen as rude. Or bitchy. Or imposing on his activities. It was easier (at the time) to be all cranky about it, and ultimately, change not only my mood, but my plans.

I don’t want to be that person.

I want to be the person who has enough respect for herself that she can choose to be as important as those around her, and who can ask for what she needs in any situation.

I want to be the person who others respect, and who are willing to honor my needs, and consider my wants.

I want to be the person who can look conflict in the eye, no matter how big or how small, and come nose to nose with it.

I want to show up in my life. Every day. Every hour. Every minute. Every single moment.

Seems I have some work to do.

A love letter to the library

LibraryBooks[dropcap custom_class="normal"] D[/dropcap]earest library, I love you so. I think it's important to tell you this on Valentine's Day. Because you will always be my Valentine.

I love that you welcome me in your doors and have books and graphic novels and DVDs and CDs and magazines waiting for me to explore on your shelves.

I love that you will never give me that look. You know, the one that says, "You'll never be able to read all those in the time allotted."

I love that I can renew anything I check out online, and that, really, I can extend those initial three weeks past a month.

I love that you know I very rarely watch the films I check out.

I love that you'll let me check out a book. Return it. Check it out again. Return it. Check it out again. Not that I would ever (cough, cough) do that.

I love that even when I have fines, you'll still let me check out materials, until those fines reach $10 at least. (Even though I'm trying really really hard to not collect fines any more.)

I love meeting new friends among your stacks. And if we don't get along that much, someone else will be there to make them their friends.

I love that you make me think. Ponder. Persevere. Learn.

Will you be my forever Valentine?