karaoke stars

eight years ago today (only it was a friday…we had a few concerned people over us choosing friday the 13th as our big day, but we like it and it’s the backwards version of 31, and we love love halloween) Damian and i got hitched!

currently, we’re enjoying a nice bottle of Australian wine.

i love you D!!!  happy anniversary.

Avalon

look at all of this neglect.  i used to update my older blogs every day…i don’t think i’m feeling this one, here on wordpress.  perhaps a move to blogspot where what i want to put on my page (flickr link, etsy link, etc.) will actually work.  as well, a header re-design.  this one was created in haste when, in a flash of self-expression and red wine, i decided to start up a journal again.

anyways, i’ve been soaking in the autumn and loving it.  it’s a decent one this year, nice and crisp and no snow yet (though there was frost this morning).  Damian and i went apple picking at an organic orchard near our house on saturday and it was chilly and fun.  it was so nice to be outside surrounded by fields of green and trees in different shades of fire…reds, yellows, oranges.  the air was so fresh and cold, it was the kind of air that really hit the lungs deep when you breathed in.

we bought some apple cider as well and took it home where we lit a fire and i baked some of our freshly picked apples into a crisp.  *hint* put a little (or a lot, depending on how your day treated you) bit of vanilla vodka into your next glass of apple cider…yum.

this weekend is thanksgiving, my favourite long weekend.  i always hope for chilly weather and bundled sweater walks through leaves while the scents of turkey dinner and fire roll out of houses into the street.  my company always gives us the oppsite end of the stat day off as a bonus so i’ve got 4 days off to look forward to!  studio, here i come…it’s time for a clean up.

oh and a little Etsy shop news.  all of the items in my studio sale will be gone from the shop on October 13th.  the shop will then focus strictly on art & photography.

so, a wee summary: 

* possible move to blogspot (my old stompin’ grounds)

* fall is pretty and smells like turkey & fire

* vanilla vodka makes apple cider happy

i think i’m in need of some uprooting, some change.  i’ve been stuck in an office for about 11 years, different offices, but offices just the same.  it’s not me, i can feel that quite clearly, yet i’m still here.  it’s that whole “afraid to leap” thing i guess.  for 11 years i’ve been used to the security blanket of steady paycheques wrapped around me.  i need to meditate on this quote A LOT more:

“leap and the net will appear”

please make it stop, make the clouds stop dripping.  who can i write a letter to, who can i bribe with homemade cupcakes?  what a horrible summer we’re having. everything is squishy and grey. i usually love a good thunderstorm but since they’ve become the norm their allure has worn off.  sigh.

watercolour painting by me

lately i’ve been dreaming of escape, leaving the everyday behind.

maybe i’d be on a pirate ship, riding salt water waves.  nothing but fading blue on the horizon.  it would be dusk and the moon would be rising over a wave.  the wood would creak as leather boots walked across it.  the sails would whip and crack in the breeze.  i would be sailing away from everything normal, beginning a life of fantasy and adventure.  we would be out to collect stars in linen bags tied with red satin ribbon.  we would drink rum out of old tin mugs while singing songs of mermaids and treasures unfound.  a strong wind would cast a wave on board carrying laughter from the crew back into the depths of the sea as it washed across the deck.  the only rules would be to never discuss the rigorous demands of land, to share in the wealth of the stars, and to never wear a colour darker than purple.

i saw this on Boho Girl’s journal and fell in love with it, i had to do it right away (we have the same celebrity crush, but can you blame us really?).  if you want to play this is what you do:

answer each of the questions below then go to Flickr and type those answers individually into the search box.  choose your favourite image (only using the first page) and paste the URL into the Mosaic Maker (make sure you sign up, for free, before entering all of those URL’s or you’ll have to do it all over again). create your mosaic with 3 columns & 4 rows.  

questions:

1. What is your first name? (Amanda)
2. What is your favorite food? (salad)
3. What high school did you attend? (Barrie North)
4. What is your favorite color? (periwinkle)
5. Who is your celebrity crush? (James McAvoy)
6. Favorite drink? (champagne)
7. Dream vacation? (Scotland)
8. Favorite dessert? (cupcake)
9. What do you want to be when you grow up? (artist)
10.What do you love most in life? (laughter)
11. One word to describe you. (giving)
12. Your Flickr name. (sequin fairy)

i just received the most fantastic smelling package in the mail.  handmade soaps from Squeaky Queen in Prep Wash (with toy syringe inside) and Calendula Sunshine (which I bought for my sister but it might not make it to her).  a little sample soap of Spun Sugar, which smells like a carnival, was thrown in as was a sample vile of Honeytree perfume oil which i’m wearing as i type.  It has a sweet yet powdery scent, very soft, not overpowering at all…i imagine this is what it feels like to be a wildflower.  also included, a tiny button with a whimsically horned creature whom i can only wish is the monster under my bed at night (already joined with my other pins on the lapel of my green corduroy jacket).

the labels on her soaps are brilliant and my treats were shipped in recycled packaging which made me smile.  there is no reason to buy mass produced soap from a drug store when you can get far superior quality, handmade.  you know the ingredients, and it was made with care and love.  i will be back to buy more (i’ve got my on that absinthe soap!).  Thank you Amanda, for your beautiful soaps.

tonight i decided to cover the premature shimmers of silver appearing in my hairline.  i’ve been playing with reds for a bit but now, I’m playing with plain old brown.  that’s the fun of colour, it can change.  i type this with my hair piled atop my head awaiting the 25 minute mark.  i don’t find the process overly fun so to make my way through it i pretended i was on the lamb, on the run from the law, covering my identity with a $13.99 box of brown.

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it was the first motel i came across after driving 60 miles in pitch black, if only the moon were full i might have had a light to lead the way but instead i followed behind the dull glow of my headlights.  i was tired, i was hungry, and the only radio station i could get was broadcasting a Patsy Klein marathon through static. I pulled into the gravel parking lot and parked under the flickering vacancy sign.  I grabbed the cardboard box from the back seat which contained my new life inside of it. $800 in cash, a bottle of red nail polish, a deck of tarot cards, a flyer to a traveling carnival, and a box of hair dye.  I walked through the door to the sound of a cow bell slamming against the dirty glass.  An episode of I Love Lucy was watching the woman at the front desk as she slept with a cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth.  I excused myself as i woke her. 

She gave me the key to 405, next to the ice machine.  i made my way to the room peeking into the open curtains of fellow patrons.  An old man sat on a chair flipping coins into a hat, a couple removed individual pieces of clothing upon sipping shots of tequila.  Two kids jumped on the bed as their mother examined her image in the bathroom mirror, a man sat on the edge of his chair smelling a purple silk scarf and crying.  I reached 405 and put the key in the lock.  The smell of moth balls hit me as i opened the door, i looked around the room, the wood paneled walls, the orange and yellow flowered bedspread, the round table with a coffee mug stain engrained into it.  I put my boxed life on the bed, took out the dye and walked into the linoleum washroom.

I didn’t regret how i got here, i was innocent after all, yet the idea of being guilty gave me a rush.  The events which occurred 48 hours ago did, after-all, change my life.  It was the push I needed, the inevitable escape that loomed deep inside.  Now here I was becoming a different, altered version of me.  This was one step of many more to come, applying the ammonia scented brunette to exist as someone else, someone new.  No past.

I pulled the starched white sheets down and admired the crispness.  Someone went to the trouble of making this bed perfect, for me, for the next body to crawl into it.  How many people slept in this bed before me, what stories could it tell?  Heartache, loss, firsts, lasts?  i slid in still dripping slightly from my shower.  I didn’t bother drying off completely, i loved the feel of a fresh bed against a clean damp body.  I slowly drifted away into the pillows with thoughts of open roads and fields on the cusp of tomorrow.  A new life.