MOMS day should be every day

Not only did I end up with probably the best mom in the world, but the luck continued when I got a mother-by-marriage that's really incredible to me, as well.

It started with Kick.
Kick is my mom, that's her nickname.  But it's what everyone who meets her today, calls her.  I started to think about all the incredible things I know and love about Kick and how lucky I am to have her as a mom.  And it made me wish I knew her mom better, because she loved her Bernice as much as I love my Kick.
It put me in mind of something my friend, Nancy, wrote about:  I, too, would list my mom as the number one teacher I am thankful for.  She's my best friend and makes me laugh as hard as anyone does.  We can talk til we're blue in the face and barely staying awake, we can hound a topic til it grows whiskers.   She paints and plays tennis and throws dinner parties and holds weekly mahjong sessions and she's the only one that reminds me that though she's a certain older age that remains to be unspoken, she still feels about 17.  Thank goodness she warned me, 'cuz now I know what she means.
And only my mom could give me the best gift I've ever gotten and it didn't cost a thing:  One night across the dinner table, in a room filled with people,  she said, "I feel like Molly is like my sister."  I'll never forget the way my heart soared and our eyes filled to the brim.

I don't know why I got so lucky in the parental department, but I'm awfully glad I did.

Happy Mothers Day, Moms.

And The Winner Is.....

Thanks to those who entered the drawing, let's do it again sometime soon!
Tyn, get your pen ready to write!
And, in the meantime, email me your address so I can get some 8mm ideas to you! YEA!

Of course, I didn't personally know Adam "MCA" Yauch, but when we heard of his death today, I remembered a time from years ago when my niece was very young and playing in the playground with my sister and they bumped into Adam and his young daughter. She came home and told me how incredibly nice this Beastie Boy was and suddenly we had a whole new respect for the boys. Since then, the Beastie Boys have become a huge part of my musical life, as I married a man who can recite most every song, with perfect timing. He doesn't even have to have an album on to reference line after line. These boys had a talent that really hasn't yet been met. It seems fitting someone would have combined that with the genius of Sesame Street.

Paper Lover seeks Paper Geeks To Celebrate

I'm a paper lover, with my moon in paper nerd and my rising sign in paper addict.  It's with this acknowledgement I can admit I am having a whole new love affair with 8mm ideas.

A lot of people say they only send a card at christmas, or valentine's day, or on one of the other obligatory holidays when you think 'shoot, i gotta get a card!'  But, I'm thinking about all the other days that come between those days, when people's mailboxes are stuffed with nothing but bills.  Those are the days for 'oh man, i gotta send (someone) that card.  it's sooo perfect.'  That's why we here at 8mm ideas leave our cards blank inside:  You know what you want to say, you just need the card to say it in.  We believe the love/ snark/ juicy memories/ simple sentiment you write is just the right thing with the right card. 
And that's what we're here for.

It just so happens, at this very moment, I'm so super excited about these next steps here at 8mm ideas:  We've entered the 21st Century (very, very difficult for a girl who prefers to a typewriter to a computer, and pencil & paper to any button-y thing that's put in front of me) and have arrived at the book of faces.
That's right, 8mm ideas has a facebook page.  I'm actually going to write here, right now, go to our facebook page and thumbs it up!   Come on, it's crazy! We wanna celebrate with everyone!

And we think a great way to celebrate is to keep in touch with others and tell them something/anything/x's and o's, whatever it is on every day of the year.  You know how much trouble the post office is in?!  Couldn't we do a little to keep them in business?  Over the years, come rain or snow, they've delivered letters and packages and, in our house at least they delivered coconut halves and license plates (yes, made into letters from my brothers).  Someone in your life needs a card, and that someone or someones would benefit greatly hearing from you.  So leave us a note in the comments, telling us who's day you plan to make.  Stella will pick a name out of a hat this Friday and we'll send you three 8mm ideas cards to do just that with!

Thank you for all your support, dear readers, over the years.  We couldn't do it without you!

Page A Day

I've been trying to give myself a healthy dose of work-work and creative-work.  So, with that in mind, I thought it would be good to do a 'page-a-day' type journal.  Carrying this small book back and forth with me to the studio, I had to convince myself I can do this wherever I am:  If I'm at home I use only the materials available to me and if I'm at the studio, the same thing applies.

No self-judgements, no tearing myself down if I don't like it.  In fact, no 'i like it' or 'i don't like it' comments to myself.  Just putting something down, trying to come to an open creative space.
I never do this, I always have a purpose or a conclusion that I must get to.  But, these days, my head is in so many places, trying to keep up with so many thoughts and feelings, I'd like to just plain enjoy using my hands, dipping into old paper and cutting up old photos, using materials I might not otherwise use.

I read somewhere that if you do something like this, work for yourself, imagery of your own personal use, you shouldn't necessarily show it to the public because this is where judgement comes in.  Other people comment on what you've done and then that sinks in.

But I'm interested in that part of it, too.  I'm interested in the challenge of keeping others thoughts at bay while I reach for my own goals and realize that we're not necessarily in this together, but alone in our work and our needs, wants, reaches.  I'm happy to share in the idea that we're all working towards something, but it actually feels stronger to think that we're each doing it the way we know how.  You are your own being, you must do/make/believe in the way that works for your own sanity.  Especially when it comes to something you're doing just for fun.  Gotta remember what 'just for fun' means and where it can take you.

(and then I get to tap into the fact that I've got some amazing friends who know me inside out and send me links to things on topic, mind you, on the very same day:  listen, laugh and learn.  it's the practice we take on)

mysteries of vernacular

Reading Til It Hurts

I'm back in a big reading mode.  A week or so ago, I visited a neighborhood library not in my neighborhood (the wonders of public libraries:  I can take out a book at one branch and return it to any other branch in the city! Way to make my life easier! And, I get to check out other libraries while I'm at it), and I took out five random books.  While I do carry a little notebook with me that has the dozens and dozens of titles I'm looking to read, most times, I just wander the aisles and pull out a book who's spine looks interesting or who's title has titillated me.  I read the first few pages and if it moves me, I take it.  If it doesn't, it goes back on the shelf and I'm back to wandering. 

 

The first book I took out I'd never heard of but ended up loving (always a win win with a library book) called "The Earth Hums In B Flat".  It was written by a Welsh librarian.  

I used to live in Wales. 

And, I believe I've already mentioned how much I love libraries.  

So, with those two bits of knowledge, I knew this one was coming home with me (but yes, I read the first few pages, to be sure).

The second novel I read actually came from my list of books:  It was AWFUL.  I finished it of course, I had to find out who did the deed, but I groaned the whole way through it.

The third and fourth books I happened upon have both turned out to be really enjoyable, easy reads that I didn't want to put down.

And the fifth is a biography/memoir written by a man about his father, I'm leaving that one for last.

  

All this to say, I came across this project the other day and it thrilled me to no end!  New York's alternative library, indeed!  A lending library for the masses.  And snugly tucked into an almost obsolete existence in it's own right, the phone booth.  It's a two for one!

Before There Was An Audience

Appearances are an interesting thing.
It's what makes us lie or tell the truth.  Its what makes us reach out or shut down in a given situation.  We spend an awful lot of time doing what we think others might expect or need of us.  It colors most things people do.  It doesn't necessarily have to be a negative.  Appearances are our logo, our storytelling, our product of voiced opinions.  It seeps as deep as our beliefs about protecting the environment to our opinionated take on reading People Magazine.  It can even take on a life of it's own, some call that habit.  Even writing this now, I wonder about the appearance it gives off versus the one I've intended (and is it versus? perhaps i'm giving off just the appearance i intended?)
As we get older, as we get wiser, as we get more comfortable, many of us tend to let go of appearances and yet, an appearance is something you give off every time you leave the house.

When I was younger, I honestly believe no one talked about me when I wasn't around.  If someone would use the phrase, 'oh, we were just talking about you', I thought they were being polite.  It took me until my adult life to realize everyone has something to say about everyone.  And you can't do anything about that.  A difficult concept for me because I grew up thinking, for the most part, everyone liked everyone else.  I wanted everyone to be happy all the time.  And I thought if you were nice, kind, sweet, generous, giving, that would spread and surround and generally seep into everyone around you and so on and so on and so on.  Ah, the peacefulness of naiveté.

So, while you can't exactly control your appearance to others, you can do your best to live your life truthfully.  It's difficult, but when done to it's best intention, chances are you're doing a pretty good job of it.

The Power Of Imagination

A friend I love like a sister emailed me the other day with a link to this video and in the middle of bawling my eyes out, I paused the video, dialed her number and
thanked
her
profusely.

We could all use a little influx of goodness in the world (or, as RK said: why don't they show THIS on the news?!).  If you've seen it, watch it again, it's good for you.  And, if you haven't, get your tissue box at the ready!

In the back of my mind

I was recommended this article the other day by one of the most interesting, fun people I've met recently.  The spark being, as she entered my studio and peered at the various shelves upon shelves of stuff, I may have mentioned my obsession with things and she shared obsessions of her own and was instantly reminded of the artist in the aforementioned New Yorker article that walked away from it all.  30 years of collecting stuff and he closed the door and walked away.  She and I debated the possibility of doing this as we scrolled through our memories of what it is we actually have.

Open Studios weekend went down a couple weeks ago and, once again, I thoroughly enjoyed all the various people I met who walked on through 227.  It's a trippy thing, that little studio, you get enough visitors and friends in this little 10x10 space and it can start to feel like living/working in a keebler elf house.  It can tend toward other worldly in my studio, surrounded by the collections, as if you've gone back in time when you notice the girl scout sash or the hundreds of letters standing up in a cigar box, you start to get a little lost.
And I'm just talking about how I feel.

So, it's always fun to meet people who are also deeply affected by the stuff piling up around me.  The comment  I hear most often is that 'it's very organized.'  Which I think is strange and, while I don't like to get into it (it tends to sound like I'm just grumbling), I'm really not organized.  Really, truly.  Or, am I?, but to my own strange tune. 
So, I'm flattered, I'm thrilled, and it keeps me going another day, that people not only find my studio organized, but people find it interesting.
Because I'm interested,
right along with them.



When someone points out some the randomly sprawling collection of playing cards I've acquired,  I can't help but mirror (okay, sometimes 'out-do') their level of excitement for this unusual item , as if I'm finding it for the first time.  If they want to go through old photos books with me (where do i begin? depends on the curious looker: if they're sorta into it, I pull out the baby book from the dump.  if they're really into it, i pull out the leather bound one with the blue pages from the early 1900's) or on their own, I say take a seat and get into it.



I dearly love these things.  Yet, I find I can keep my passion for them and let them go.
And, yes, some of them, i'll keep forever.  I'm the first to admit it.



But, most things I think to myself, 'i'll get to you... it'll come to me'.  They're just things living with me for now.  I'm taking care of them until the next thing calls out.



I'll get to those 50 glass jars (for globes) and the 100 feathers, hand wrapped, from an old french hat maker, and those slats of different tempered wood (ah, yes, i let those go of their own free will finally) because the stuff speaks to me.

A friend recently gave me a stack of gorgeous navy, heavy-weight paper and an image for a project came to me pretty quickly.  I wouldn't have thought so when I took the paper from him(compulsively, this is what I'm admitting here:  i was being offered PAPER, beautiful, heavy lb paper, navy friggin blue, i could not, i would not, pass it up.  paper!  i rest my case) but I'm thrilled with the concept and so excited to get my hands on that paper now.

I guess I'm not walking away from my studio anytime soon....


all photos by my dear friend danica.

smart as a dog

A guy is driving around the back woods of Montana and he sees a sign in front of a broken down shanty-style house: 'Talking Dog For Sale 'He rings the bell and the owner appears and tells him the dog is in the backyard.

The guy goes into the backyard and sees a nice looking Labrador retriever sitting there.

'You talk?' he asks.

'Yep,' the Lab replies.

After the guy recovers from the shock of hearing a dog talk, he says 'So, what's your story?'

The Lab looks up and says, 'Well, I discovered that I could talk when I was pretty young..I wanted to help the government, so I told the CIA. In no time at all they had me jetting from country to country, sitting in rooms with spies and world leaders, because no one figured a dog would be eavesdropping.'

'I was one of their most valuable spies for eight years running... But the jetting around really tired me out, and I knew I wasn't getting any younger so I decided to settle down. I signed up for a job at the airport to do some undercover security, wandering near suspicious characters and listening in. I uncovered some incredible  dealings and was awarded a batch of medals.' 'I got married, had a mess of puppies, and now I'm just retired.'

The guy is amazed. He goes back in and asks the owner what he wants for the dog.

'Ten dollars,' the guy says.

'Ten dollars? This dog is amazing! Why on earth are you selling him so cheap?'

'Because he's a liar. He's never been out of the yard

(thankfully, my mother knows me too well... and she gets every forwarded email that's out there)

Applaud the Sunset

Recently our friends, C&T, went to Santorini for their honeymoon. They had lots of great stories on their return, but there was one that really struck me. 

Each day, in the early evening, the story goes, people would gather in the streets.  You could hear their laughter, see their beaming smiles.  The first evening it happened, our friends wondered if someone wasn't having a party that happened to spill onto the streets.  So many people, all facing the same direction.  As the hour passed and the sun began to lower itself into the horizon, our friends could hear soft 'ooohs' and 'ahhhs' rising from the crowds.  And just as the sun dipped below the horizon and the sky changed it's hue, a roar of applause rang throughout the Santorini hills, bouncing off the walls and rooftops of the homes. 
Every single evening, these people gather to applaud the sunset.
With all the things we could keep our eyes on these days, all the junk that's offered up on a daily basis from tv, movies and the internet, it seems many of us may have forgotten the very basic place to put our attention and our thanks.

You could applaud the sunset, the sunrise, the opening of a flower, the emerging of a new leaf.  The universe is already giving you a daily show, the least we can do is show our appreciation.


photos from c&t's honeymoon

Nesting

There is evidence that some dinosaurs built primitive nests on the ground and even cared for their hatchlings there. Today many creatures besides birds—from wasps to mice to alligators—shelter their young or their eggs in nests that they construct themselves. But for variety of placement and material, and for sheer complexity of design, nothing can compare with birds’ nests. Especially among smaller birds, nests are often remarkable for their inventive use of local materials to provide support, shelter, and camouflage. The nests are tiny marvels of disposable architecture.

The finest nests are crafted by smaller birds, however, and the majority are never reused, not even by their original builders. It seems all the more remarkable that birds should create these intricate structures for such ephemeral use. It seems ironic, too, that most of us are not legally allowed to possess these nests, even after they have been abandoned. But when we are lucky enough to find them in the wild, or see them revealed in works of photographic art like the ones reproduced here, we cannot avoid holding them and the birds that made them in absolute awe.

Text: Audubon Magazine Photos: Sharon Beals

(i have a nest obsession, myself)

I've often wondered what they'd say...

Maclaren Park, SF

Maclaren Park, SF

Prospect Park, NY

Los Feliz, Los Angeles

it's rare that i pass a tree and don't take it's picture. 

these are just a few of the many, many, many i've shot over the years.

Make:Do

open studios this weekend

studio 227

744 alabama @ 19th st.

friday night  7pm- 11pm

saturday & sunday, 12-5

To Marion

I got a box in the mail the other day addressed to "amazing molly".
That, alone, could have probably been enough for me for the whole week:  This box, the wonderful address.

But when I opened it, I saw two big bowed piles of old, fantastically old, from wedding to funeral, from birth to 22, family photos. 

And here's the crazy part of that:  They weren't my family.
{Seems I've become known for being someone who loves the old stuff.  The old photos even more.}
They all belonged to a woman I know only through the world of blog;  yet my mother and I both agree, this is someone we would really, really like.  We love, love, love her blog, can't get over the way she's able to so clearly express, we love her comments on this blog, mom even comments to me on her comments.  
And the dichotomy?/irony? of knowing someone only in this wi-fi computer-database (blah erg um computer stuff, technology, mybad, high tech, blah, blech)  day and age, contrasted with the US Postal Service, mailed-to-me, bound and unusual, singular and downright spectacular, physical proof of her history makes the whole thing all that more fantabulous.  What a freakin strange, and sometimes ridiculously wonderful world we live in.

It's a pretty powerful stack of photos, so many of which will be posted each day on Other People's Lives over the next two weeks.  Someday I'm going to publish a little glossy of the most unusual or quaint photos that speak to me, out of the thousand's I now happily own & insanely love, and I know will only grow larger over the years (see:  addiction: evidence no.1,  evidence no.2,  evidence no.3).

So, if I may,
an internet shout-out to my friend, Marion, through the internet waves and over the years, you are most definitely someone my mother and I still strongly agree, this is someone we're lucky to know we would really, really like....

OPEN STUDIOS weekend

We just shake hands at meeting

with many that come nigh;

we nod the head in greeting

to many that go by, --

But welcome through the gateway

our few old friends and true;

then hearts leap up, and straightway

there's open house for you,

old friends,

there's open house for you!*

open studios
come for a visit & a look-see!
studio 227
744 alabama @ 19th st.
friday night  7pm- 11pm
saturday & sunday, 12-5
it's always a good time!

And, in other fun news...

I was delighted to be interviewed by the fabulous team at Lightbox SF! They do a wonderful series of postings, talking to artists who open their doors and minds, to get an inside glimpse of small business owners at work.  Lightbox SF makes it their mission "to give you the information, tools, and confidence to make your creative business succeed. We are teachers, coaches, and cheerleaders."

*author, gerald massey

Is This What Happens When You're Not Looking?

I've found this new website/blog/outlet, that I spend way too much time on. 
Mostly images, many controversial (by somebody's standards, I'm sure) and then...this. 
I love the idea of this happening in our world.

Norbert sensed that Spring was in the air……

all credit goes to my old pal, ken brown

Happy Birthday Stella!

rescue dog, about to get rescued

Two years ago, today, I walked out for toilet paper and returned home with Stella Marie. 

Over the last two years, this dog has changed the face of our lives and the depth of our love.  I don't think RK and I could ever have predicted what she would do for us and we can only hope we do something similar for her.

Stella Rides

Stella Studio Sleeps

Stella Sands

Stella Sleeps & Dreams

Stella Suns

Stella Fetches

Stella Plants

Stella Pants

Stella Snoozes

Stella Cruises, like the rockstar she is...

Vintage Modern Life

I thought these were amazing.  (You can get them for yourself at their website)

They made me feel safe about all this, which I desperately needed.
Truth be told, I'm scared to death of turning into a complete dolt with mush for brains because of apps and texts and hash-tags, and googling even the most simplest of thoughts.  In this post alone, I've already had to use spell check.  Lordy!

Since getting an iphone in October, I have become a twitter-er, a complete addict to an iphone app called instagram, and a constant checker of the screen.  That's right.  Doesn't matter what screen, computer or iphone, I have a difficult time going long periods without checking the latest.
The latest what you ask?
Well, I'm not really sure.  The latest moment in other people's lives, I suppose.
I know it keeps me quite distracted from my own, which doesn't always feel like such a bad thing.  Yet, I was the biggest moaner and groaner of this new frontier when it all started happening. 

And here I am.

And, I continue to moan:  I miss the connections in person.  I miss the urge to make phonecalls.  I miss letter writing, real paper letter writing.  I miss listening to just my own thoughts every once in awhile.  And I miss the time I used to have.
 
But!... in thinking about how to better communicate the brand of my business, I realize it's a growing tool that I need to manage, should enjoy and do appreciate (in it's own way).

For now, it exists, I exist with it.  One might call it a love/hate relationship.