flowers and my old friend john

Would you just look at these beautiful paper flowers by Livia Cetti at The Green Vase? Two of my favorite stores, John Derian and Anthropologie, are her clients, and while I've seen "more realistic" faux blooms made of silk, I think these are fun and whimsical.

Images via The Green Vase

I especially love the poppies and can't wait to see some of these designs when I visit the John Derian store in Provincetown next week. I'll be heading there with my mother on Tuesday, and other than poking around the many haunts of this sweet, old Cape Cod town, the John Derian store is our main destination. A friend recently visited the shop and said it is teeny tiny, but if it's anything like I imagine, I'm sure I'll still be able to spend hours exploring its many treasures.

I am so accident-prone, I'll really have to be careful in here.

 Images via Architecht Design (TM)

The store is only a short bike ride form John's 18th century home, once owned by a ship captain. Talk about a dream home tour. I wonder if he'll be around when we are there next week. I dream of having another chance to meet one of my creative idols!

Image via The Boston Globe

Here are some interior photos of his home. So much pattern, texture and muted color. Wouldn't you just love to cozy up to that fireplace on a winter's night? It's doubtful that this relic of a home is winterized, however I've read that John uses it year-round.

I can't tell if this is a twin or full bed, but I don't think I'd have any trouble sleeping cozily in it. That is, if the creaking of the old walls and floors wouldn't keep me awake.

John lounging on his porch. What a genius. I'd love to live in his world for just a day.

 Images via shelterpop

As we all brace for Irene here in New England, I pray that everybody makes it safely through the weekend. I take heart thinking of how many storms John's home has weathered. 

Have a safe weekend, wherever you are.

the best part about moving?

The milkman comes every Tuesday.

hammocks

My best friend just moved into a new apartment with a porch off of the kitchen.  For a fleeting moment, I considered moving there, as well, and when I went to see the apartment for myself, I walked out to the porch and saw a hammock hanging from two of the vertical posts. I immediately got a good feeling and thought of my childhood, much of which was spent swinging in one of two hammocks on my parents' porch.

Me, milk-drunk, my Mum and sister, 1979

My mother has said that feeding me while swinging slowly in the hammock was the only way to get me to sleep as a baby. The hammock above is long gone, but I still remember the way it felt and smelled. You could take a nap for hours wrapped up in its tight embrace which was surprisingly comfortable, and this thing was enormous. I think all four of us (maybe even five when my brother came along) were able to fit!

Here are some inspiring images of hammocks from around the web.

 via Scout Charlottesville

 

 via boho bisous

via Liina interior

A website called alibaba.com seems to have cornered the market on hammocks with tassels (at least it feels that way), but there are some cool ones on hammocks.com like these (sorry for the poor image quality):

I also found this one on Ebay.

 Of course, if you're feeling very ambitious, you can macrame your own hammock like this:
 

reflecting

In less than a week, I'm moving away from my home of almost four years in Beacon Hill. Other than the house where I was raised, this the longest I've ever lived anywhere. As I sit surrounded by half-packed boxes, empty walls, glowing in a quiet light coming through my curtains, I'm reminded of dozens, maybe hundreds, of the reasons I love this neighborhood. Leaving it gives me so much sadness, but I hope some day my path will bring me back to this special place. These are the things I will miss most:

+ Rouvalis Flowers' sidewalk displays
+ Living steps away from the river
+ Light posts wrapped in garlands during Christmas
+ John and Paul at The Sevens Ale House
+ Entertaining on my roof against views of Boston and Cambridge
+ Springtime window boxes
+ Figs Oliver Pizza with extra sauce and arugula
+ My neighbors (even the unfriendly ones)
+ Riding Blanca along the Charles
+ Walking to the Kendall Square Cinema
+ My big, deep bath tub
+ Passing friends on the street
+ My favorite shops, Good and Koo de Kir
+ The mail slot on the bottom of my door
+ Dominic at Beacon Hill Wine & Spirits
+ Mike the homeless man who calls me "Mama" and always asks for a green tea outside Starbucks
+ The way my fireplace smells when it's warm outside
+ The sound of chopping from the kitchen at Lala Rokh
+ Sun filtering in through my bathroom window
+ Shopping for my niece and nephews at The Red Wagon
+ The staff at Cafe Vanille
+ Total calm in the middle of the city

good, simple design

My Bodum French press and I are not on speaking terms. He's just been really gritty and bitter lately and I've had it. I think I'm going to send for one of these beautiful Chemex coffeemakers. I love its simple design with the wood collar and leather ties. It also looks like a breeze to clean.

Here's wishing you a caffeinated weekend.

hundertwasser

A few days ago I was browsing the sale section on CB2.com and spotted this neat pillow. They call it "la bicicleta" and I can't help but feel that it was inspired by the art of Friedensreich Hundertwasser.

The only reason I am acquainted with Hundertwasser's work is because my parents bought two of his woodblock prints in the 70s, a big investment for them at the time. During my childhood, these prints hung in our family room, and for most of my life I thought they were strange and psychedelic and had no place in my family's traditional home.

Spectacles in the Small Face

When I was studying abroad in Europe in college, I found myself in Vienna at Kunst Haus Vien, a building co-designed by Hundertwasser which now houses a great deal of his incredible art and furniture. I remember calling my parents to tell them that I finally "got it".  At the museum store I bought as many small books and postcards as I could fit in my bag. Just months after I was in Vienna, I read that Hundertwasser had died.

Blob Grows in Beloved Gardens

Recently, after years of begging, my parents allowed me to take one of the prints home to hang in my apartment (see Spectacles above). Even though my parents still treasure it, it no longer "works" with my mother's design aesthetic. Make no mistake, it is most certainly "on loan". But I know they are glad that I can appreciate it now, and every time I walk in the door and see it, it makes me happy.

It also makes me want to invest in art. Perhaps something by a lesser known artist that I can treasure for years to come.

Endless Way to You is my favorite Hundertwasser painting, and I must have stared at for 20 minutes when I saw it in Vienna. This one has a special place in my heart as I once logged many hours behind the wheel of a car during a long-distance relationship. I really love the detail of the windshield wipers.

Endless Way to You

The Pucker Gallery right here in Boston has a great selection of Hundertwasser's work if you're in the market for an original.  Or if you'd like to see more, go here.

breaking a sweat for my hardwood floors

It hit 80 degrees in Boston the other day, so I did what any normal person would do, I opened all of my windows, rolled up my 8' x 10' seagrass rug, and slipped it into a big plastic bag. And I did this ALONE. To call it a challenge is an understatement. At one point I was standing up with one foot on either end of the rolled rug, desperately trying to keep it from loosening up. Moments later, I sat in the middle of the rug (yes, straddling it), while I shimmied the plastic bag down the rolled rug in small sections. If you know me, yes, this is the part where I laughed out loud at how utterly ridiculous this whole idea was (and probably looked).

It would have been nice to have a crew like this to help me....

But I lack patience and didn't have anyone to call, and I really wanted to reveal my beautiful hardwood floors. I have had the same rug down for over three years and it was just starting to feel tired. My hard work paid off.

I got a lovely little workout...
(do yourself a favor and don't click on this photo)

And my living room looks fresh and quite a bit bigger now that I don't have a rug filling most of the space. 

 

The only thing missing is this Moroccan pouf that I'm planning to pick up at Target on Sunday when they reveal their collection of Calypso St. Barth's apparel and housewares.

 I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

happy easter!

hello again (cue creepy voice)

This won't be the most flattering re-entry to the blogosphere, but who are we kidding? I'm willing to bet that we all act a helluva lot more put together than we really are on this thing called the interwebs. With that, I give you something to ponder about the world of the pack rat. Boxes.

 
Did I just go shopping? Move into a new apartment and hit up Bed Bath and Beyond? Oh, if only. These fellas have been living on the upper shelves of my coat closet for over three years. A box for my iron, a box for my hairdryer, a box for my Christmas tree lights. Perhaps most disturbing, a plastic clamshell box for the Motorola flip phone I got in 2001 before I moved to California. I've lived in three apartments since I had that phone (let alone had a T-Mobile account) and somehow this empty box has moved with me. It's not like I'm saving the boxes my fine China came in, which I could justify. Why do I do this? Do you do this? Help.

Boxes are going out. Shoes are going up on the shelves. Lots more to share about the state of my nest (as if you care) and some other cool stuff I've got going on.

a chance encounter with john derian

First let me begin by saying that dinner at Craigie on Main was delicious. There were a few issues with service (drinks took far too long to arrive and the kitchen accidentally prepared the Pig Head instead of the Roasted Chicken.. oops), but the incredibly friendly and knowledgeable staff more than made up for it by sending over several complimentary dishes. One of these dishes turned out to be my favorite of the evening - a smooth, spicy hot chocolate served in a shot glass with a tiny spoon... blissss.

But the whole point of this entry is to tell you all that I met John Derian today. I MET JOHN DERIAN TODAY! I can hardly believe I'm typing that.  In preparation for a trip I'm taking to Washington D.C. on Friday, I decided this morning that I was really due to get my bangs trimmed.  I was about five minutes early for my appointment when I parked around the corner from my salon, so I popped into Lekker Unique Home Furnishings, a fantastic home store in the South End.  I had passed the store last week, and noticed that there were quite a few John Derian plates being displayed in the window, as well as what looked like several of his beautiful, minimalist traditional furniture pieces. When I walked in today, it looked as though they were setting up for an event, but I ignored this and bee-lined to to the wall of his signature decoupage plates.

My love affair with John Derian's plates started after my sister pointed them out to me about seven years ago. I dropped a hint (a BIG hint) to my boyfriend at the time, and for our first Christmas together he bought me this plate which I think is so unique and romantic.  Six plates later, it is still my favorite.

The owner approached me as I stood, transfixed, in front of the wall, and told me that all John Derian plates were 20% off today.  "What a bargain!" I thought, and then gushed about my obsession with the artist, gasping, "I am a collector!" (who the hell do I think I am!) Then the owner said to me, "Well, John is here today, he just stepped out for a moment. We're having an in-store event with him from 3 to 7, you should come say hello, I'm sure he'd love to meet a fan."  I practically ran to get my bangs trimmed, came back, and saw John standing alone in the store.  Not to be dramatic but his man is kind of a celebrity to me! I just really admire his creativity and style, and if I had the money, I'd stock up on his Hugo Guinness prints, paper/glass candleholders and Moroccan poufs next.  You just can't go wrong.

I picked a gorgeous heart-shaped plate off the wall and carried it over to John.  We chatted for a few minutes, I told him about my sister's grouping of his citrus plates above her stove, and then asked him if he'd sign my plate.  He told me the story behind the plate I chose.  He found the hand-cut tin heart in an old warehouse.  Being equal parts archivist/historian and artist, he told me that he suspects the original tin cutting dates from the 1890's.  I can't help but think of some poor, heartsick worker carefully cutting out this image in some factory.  While John grabbed a Sharpie, I told him that this was a real treat for me as it was my birthday the other day.  I thanked him and left, and when I looked at the plate in my car, I was so touched to read the message:

Thank you Vanessa Happy Birthday John Derian

My plate in its new home

The lesson my friends? Don't put off that bang trim.. you never know who you could meet on your way there.

happy easter from my coop to yours

"multi-tasking arises out of distraction itself." - Marilyn vos Savant

Searching for quotes about distraction can be really.... distracting. I have no idea who the hell this Marilyn vos Savant character is, but this statement perfectly illustrates what I sat down to share with you today. Or perhaps the word that best describes what I mean is not multi-tasking, but discovery.

With about eight months having passed since my last entry, there's really quite a bit to catch up on, but I'm only going to update on this past month. Perhaps later on I'll go back further, but I do hope my life is busy and exciting enough with new things that it won't be necessary. The first thing I'll share is a little "episode" I had about a week ago when I was at home trying to accomplish something. Really, all I set out to do was take my holiday wreath to the basement, as it had been waiting in a plastic bag in my front hall ever since I hung this....


And here is what happened.

Bring holiday wreath to basement storage, spy bamboo blinds from old apartment and grab them, remove cheap blinds from bedroom windows, go in search of hammer and nails in grandmother's old side table, find hammer, bud vase, and vacant glass picture frame in top drawer, accidentally remove drawer but save it from falling to floor, poke around in back of now-empty drawer opening, encounter two vintage scarfs and flawless dry cleaning ticket from 1959, tie one scarf around neck and admire myself in mirror above fireplace, light candle on mantel, try to fit old dry cleaning ticket in glass picture frame (it doesn't), find a picture box frame on side table, remove current photo and insert dry cleaning ticket (fits), rearrange and dust side table, make mental note to buy flowers for empty bud vase, think of what to do with glass picture frame, find photo of mother and trim it to fit, dust bedside table and place newly framed photo of mother next to lamp, remove potted succulent from bedroom and introduce it to sunny living room, return to bedroom to find shirt to compliment new scarf, admire still-empty bedroom windows. Still have not hung bloody blinds.

It's no secret to those who know me well that I have a tendency to get side-tracked and attempt to tackle dozens of tasks at a time.. "WOW! Something shiny!!" Well, I did eventually hang my blinds, which look gorgeous. I will be doing a post on my bedroom sometime in the future, but I'm overjoyed to report that despite the absence of a headboard, I am officially loving my urban nest.

Anyway, here's the neat dry cleaning ticket that I framed. Yes, I see the coffee stain, but in my opinion it is still almost flawless.


I find it almost eerie that this paper was stuffed into the back of my grandmother's side table for the past 51 years. And it's also pretty amazing that she only spent $4.90 on what appears to be several items. Simpler times, no question about it. Out of curiosity, I did a little research on "Carl's" and it appears that 373 Trapelo Road is now home to a music studio. As unfortunate as that is, I can still envision my sophisticated grandmother bringing her beautiful clothes to Carl's in the 50's. Busy raising three sons at that point in time, I can only hope she saw this errand as a bit of a respite from the chaos and screaming at home.

My grandmother and great-grandmother holding my older sister as an infant.

mission: simplify

I'm "organizing". I've been "organizing" since I got home from Austin over two months ago. I'm finding that I have a LOT of things I don't need. Case in point, this colorful collection of scarves. Can I get a witness? There are more where these came from. Next up, shoes and bags.