
12.2.10
holy smoke






I must confess to having a charming head cold
all week and -- at the tail end of it, one hopes --
I look back to see my posts are spotty (I'd omitted
some important stuff; am working on fixing this) &
not quite as clear as I'd like. Oh my. Keeping my
fingers crossed that the smoke clears and the sun
comes out (goodness! we have gotten some good cali.
rain this year; and who's to complain when those
we love are living through blizzards and the like?
umbrellas ho!)
Anyway.
The above quick pix are a few pieces
from the astonishing & breathtaking
work that comprises
there's not one thing in the
showroom that we would
want to live without (given the
chance). Glory glory and
holy smokes indeed. Just
want to go back and get better
pix. To see things in more
detail, you can click each one.
Best idea?
For now (and for the best
look), please go here:
via, of course,
the tour
(apologies, again, for any omissions or
muddle-headed words; praise the lord &
pass the kleenex...)
photos: victoria thorne
8.2.10
7.2.10
exceedingly
here's a lucky one


...who found herself amongst the fortunate
few who were able to attend the brilliant
tour given by The Style Saloniste
herself, Diane Dorrans Saeks,
on Saturday the sixth (yes, yesterday);
and, as Mr. Mercer said, it was "all
too wonderful, I'll never find the words
That say enough, tell enough
I mean they just aren't swell enough..."
It was a great day. More photos (and
a few words) to follow. But, for now, I'd
just like to thank Diane (and all of the
terrifically hospitable and perfectly
fascinating hosts of the showrooms) for
an entirely
(glorious, glamorous,
too marvelous for words)
unforgettable day.
photos: victoria thorne
northern light
5.2.10
4.2.10
3.2.10
only connect

+
"Only connect! Only connect the prose and the passion, and both will be exalted, and human love will be seen at its height. Live in fragments no longer."
E.M. Forster
encore

I'm hoping 20x200 has another
[like] Nymphenburg coming
soon. I missed this one and still
wish it was hanging in my house.
Isn't it funny, the things we wind
up loving that we didn't quite expect
to love but then we fall absolutely
irretrievably head over heels over?
Nympenburg:
2.2.10
1.2.10
31.1.10
"...for a writer always studies, looks, and listens."
30.1.10
the story of a bad boy

"Books by men and women must be segregated, the old Bostonian wrote, to avoid any appearance of impropriety amongst the sexes. Of course, if two writers were married, one may make an exception and place them together.We were assured that this custom was not followed in our great-grandmother's library. Edith Wharton's books sat next to those of Henry James. (They were great friends in real life, so why should they be kept apart on the shelf?) As a child, this odd and ancient rule fired up my imagination. Could books actually have a life of their own? Would Sarah Orne Jewett fall in love with F. Scott Fitzgerald if their books touched on a shelf? Foolish, I know, but it is often striking what one remembers from childhood."
from
29.1.10
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