Sound City

Have ya'll heard about this?

It's a documentary directed by Dave Grohl about the iconic recording studio Sound City.

And um. It's awesome.

Dave Grohl decided to get 20 of his closest drinking buddies together and make his movie after he bought one of the studio's famous analog mixing consoles - the Neve 8020. The studio closed its doors in 2011 and Sound City  is Grohl's way of immortalizing the space that hosted the likes of Fleetwood Mac, Tom Petty, Elton John, and Rage Against the Machine. This is also the studio that birthed Nirvana's Nevermind. Johnny Cash, The Red Hot Chili Peppers, and Neil Young also swung through the Sound City studio doors once or twice. And Charles Manson even did a few recordings there in 1969, just before the Manson family murders that Summer.

When you watch the film, it comes across as more of a love letter than a documentary. A love letter signed by Stevie Nicks, Trent Reznor, Paul McCartney, and Tom Petty, just to name a few, as they pay homage to the dumpy, dingy studio that managed to transform the sound of rock n' roll from the 1970's onward.

Whether you're a fan of Grohl, an appreciator of music, a musician, or a lover of a really good friggin movie, Sound City is worth watching. Just go here, buy the download, and then mentally thank me for exposing you to something so cool, and innovative, and touching.

And after you buy the movie, you get an awesome form email from Dave:

From day one, it was the most incredible experience of my life. I swear. Sitting down with Neil Young talking about recording guitars, John Fogerty telling me about the day he decided to become a musician, Stevie Nicks telling me the story of how she joined Fleetwood Mac, Trent Reznor schooling me on the world of computers and digital technology, etc etc etc.....can you imagine? All I had to do was listen...I am the luckiest man on earth.

And, being a completely independent film, no one told us how or what to do! Me and my crew of under 20 people did it OUR way. It was like a keg party with a camera. WE got to tell the story of a place we all held so dear. WE wanted to do it justice. And I think we did.

But, SOUND CITY is only part of the story.....

What is it that happens when 4 people turn on, plug in, and really play that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up? What is it about those moments when you hear something and it immediately puts its hooks in you, and you feel.....understood? What is it that will inspire the next generation of kids wanna do what I did when I was a little punk growing up in Springfield, Virginia? That feeling like, "Wait......I can do this too....."

That's what I'm talking about. That human connection. That human feel. That human sound...that isn't perfect...but it's sooooo good.

I really feel like SOUND CITY is my life's most important work. I hope you do too.

Psyched that you get to see it! Show it to your friends! Get together, start a band, sound like shit, and change the world. GO!

I've included the trailer below if you needed a little more convincing.

Happy Hump Day, lovers!

xo.

Images and film trailer found via Google Images and YouTube. I claim no rights to them.

Mad Men Goes Banana(s)

I wish I could appropriately express how ready I am for Spring to be here. Not merely because the entirety of Georgia's Winter this year has consisted of 40 degree rain. But also because the next season of my beloved Mad Men starts up again.

ohmygoodnessicantevenwait.

And neither, apparently can Banana Republic. For the third time, the brand is gonna release a Mad Men-inspired capsule collection filled with bold colors and bright patterns, and all kind of other mid-century goodness. As the series enters its sixth season, we've left the neutrality of the early sixties and have entered the take-no-prisoners gusto of the fast approaching early seventies.

Commence swooning, friends.

       

xo.

*Images courtesy of TheGloss, art8amby, and The Budget Babe

Tea Bag Tuesday on a Wednesday

Calm down, everyone. Tuesday's Tea Bag is back after a brief hiatus.

I really like this one. And not just because you all get a lovely close-up of my broken, crazy witch knuckle.

It's because if there was ever something I needed to write on my mirror or post on my fridge or tattoo on my body, this would be it.

If I could just go out and gather back up all the time I wasted chasing after shit that I thought would fulfill me but absolutely did not, I'd probably have enough to like, bicycle across India, come back, create a small Silicon Valley internet start-up, and then organize my closet.

All those things I spent all that time chasing are, not surprisingly, gone now. And with them is that feeling you get when something is just really, really good. And it sucks, because you've been white-knuckling all these things for so long that when they dissolve - and they always do - you're left feeling so hollowed out that the tiniest things blow you over.

That's the aftermath and running after all these temporary things (or people) trying to be happy. The problem is that they are external, which ultimately makes them temporary. That one guy that time? Temporary. That whole packing up and leaving the state cuz things sucked where you were? Temporary. And while you're busy thinking you're running after happiness and satisfaction, you don't realize that you're also running from something. And it'll be there when the temporary stuff decides to bounce.

It's only been recently that I've been able to stop, bend down with my palms on my knees, gasp, and realize how TIRED I've been. I know I'll always be scratching at my restlessness; as transient human beings we all will. I also know that I'm not the type of person who won't ever be content with any one place or one thing. But when you realize that you're actually okay, wherever you are and with whoever you're with, on the inside, then that desire to always go and leave and seek doesn't feel like chasing.


We've all gotta figure out how to bring the stillness with us while we're running.

Did that make sense? I hope so, because it felt good to write.

By the way, I think I'm finally going to be able to get back to blogging regularly now. I don't like these sporadic posts fit in at the end of very busy days.

And don't worry Joe, they won't all be about tea.

xo.

Frida & Diego. And Craft Beer, too.

I shouldn't even be doing a blog post.

You wanna know why? Because after a literal 8 hours of constant school work, I still haven't dented what I need to get done by tomorrow night. But if I don't stop reading about the history of Brahmanistic Hinduism, I may slip into a coma. My brain's refusing to allow input of anymore information today, lest I die from overexposure to World Religion.

So, for the sake of self-preservation, I figured I'd recap the goings on of yesterday (i.e. Saturday) since they were so awesome.

Me and my bestest buddy started the day off at a wonderful little local brewery that was hosting an open house and beer tasting. Any Saturday that begins with friends and expertly crafted, creatively infused beers like Rum Raisin and a red velvet porter is bound to be a good Saturday. It was just good people, and good food, and yummy beer, all outside in the freezing cold with a little Johnny Cash to help thaw you out. Groovy.

This picture wasn't taken by me. My fantastic friend Tonya took it with her phone and I have obviously stolen it. Tonya, if you'd like me to not use it here, just let me know and I'll take it down. But it's such a cool picture, I had to share.

Anyways, after beer and had-to-be-mentioned beer infused trifles, we left the brewery and headed downtown to the High Museum to see the Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera exhibit.

I don't know why I'm so fascinated by other people's love stories, but I am. I guess I like to see how love looks on other people, what it does to them and their lives. For Frida, her marriage to Diego colored all of her work, but not in a stylistic way. Diego was nearly 20 years older than Frida and learned to paint classically, studying in many places under many people. Frida taught herself and often painted freely for family and friends. Her work is deeply personal, a feature seen not only in her self-portraits, but also in her sketches and her still-lifes. It chronicles the physical pain of the accident that nearly crippled her, the emotional pain of Diego's infidelity, and her devout love of her home country Mexico. 

It was an amazing exhibit and I'm so glad we got to see these pieces, brush strokes, stab marks and all. 

Frida painted this piece, called My Dress Hangs There, to express her distaste for American Capitalism and overt consumption. She and Diego were both Communists: "I was a member of the party before I met Diego and I think I am a better Communist than he is or ever will be."

This was one of my favorites. Called Self Portrait with Cropped Hair, Frida Kahlo painted this after finding out about Diego's affair with her sister and divorcing him. She's painted herself with her hair chopped off as an affront to him because he loved her long locks. The lyrics at the top read, "Look, if I loved you, it was because of your hair. Now that you are bald, I don't love you anymore."

I loved this one too. Titled, A Few Small Nips (Passionately In Love) it was exhibited with this wooden frame that Frida actually stabbed with a small knife (the marks in the wood are on the top, in the center). It represents not only the the oppression of and violence against women, but also the harmful effects of passion. Frida took inspiration from the story of an unfaithful woman who was murdered by her jealous husband. When questioned by the judge, the man defended himself by saying, "it was only a few small nips."

I was obviously drawn to more of Frida's work, but all the pieces were incredible to look at. It was stirring and managed to vividly tell the story of these two people who managed to find love and respect for each other, sometimes a little too late in Diego's case. If you get a chance, you should all go see it. 

Okay, I'm done staring at this computer now. It's been like, 9 hours or something. 

Hope you guys had a stellar, magnificent weekend. 

xo.

All images, except Tonya's, were found on Google images. I do not claim ownership.

Happy V-D Everyone!

Both my aunt and grandmother say Happy V-D instead of Happy Valentine's Day. Obviously I come from a very proper, polite, politically correct family. 

And I wouldn't have them any other way :) 

So yeah, Happy Valentine's Day guys! I know there's been a lot of crickets over here on my blog this week, but between planning stuff for today and being swallowed whole by the University System of Georgia, I barely had time to inhale properly. Let alone come visit my little blog here. 

How are you guys spending Valentine's Day? Watching horror movies? Buying roses? Making a wonderful, little dinner at home? Being drunk and eating chocolates alone? Watching Archer with your bestest pals? (please don't act like you don't know about Archer). All of the aforementioned are perfectly acceptable ways to spend the day. As for myself, I've been driving around town delivery heart balloons and cupcakes to people. And tonight heart-shaped strawberry Nutella pancakes will be made for dinner. Followed by Archer. 

Not kidding, you guys. Watch it. 

In all seriousness, I hope you've all had a wonderful day. Single or not, we all have people in our lives that we love, and that love us. And I think it's pretty damn cool that we have a day dedicated to acknowledging that. 

And we can all practice a little self-love today as well. It's just as valid and, in my opinion, more important than any other external love we experience. 

You're all my Valentines today. 

xoxo.

images courtesy of weheartit.

 

Sunday Style File - Free People's February Collection

If my credit card had an infinite limit and I never had to pay any of that money back, all of these pieces would be in my closet.

Free People is one of those brands that I can always count on to get perfect my idea of effortlessly cool. They make the kind of clothes that you don't think twice about once you put on. They hang on you perfectly, can be dressed up or down, and offer you an instant "cool" that you don't find in many other places.

Their February collection offers up an easy, bohemian edge to classically romantic pieces with touches of lace and ruffle detailing and ohmygoodness I just want them all.

Here are my favorites:

The On a Whim Lace Top

We the Free Waterfall Tank

Galveston Field Boot

Abbey Road Sunglasses

Solid Low-Back Cami

Flutterby Halter

Uuuugh. Why don't I have unlimited amounts of money and no bills. Whhhy?

Hope you guys are enjoying your Sunday nights!

xo.

Free People brand logo found courtesy of Google

Retro Love Story - Patti Smith and Robert Mapplethorpe

"No one could speak for these two  young people nor tell with any truth of their days and nights together. Only Robert and I could tell it. Our story, as he called it. And, having gone, he left the task to me to tell it to you."

I remember the first time I read Just Kids by Patti Smith. I was working an absolutely miserable job in the middle of a suffocating Georgia summer and the highlight of my whole workday was sitting in my car on my lunch break, windows rolled down, my bare feet sticking out the driver's side devouring the pages of one of the most tender, poetic, affecting love stories. Ever.  

And since it's February and six days before Valentine's Day and all, I figured I'd share some of it with you guys.

Patti Smith and Robert Mapplethorpe met by chance in the midst of a cultural revolution in New York City in the sixties. As she put it, "It was the summer that Coltrane died... Flower children raised their empty arms and China exploded the H-bomb. Jimi Hendrix set his guitar in flames in Monterey... the summer of love. And in this shifting, inhospitable atmosphere, a chance encounter changed the course of my life. It was the summer I met Robert Mapplethorpe."

They were both beatniks, lanky and disheveled and endlessly searching for a way to create themselves. And theirs was an immediate, unmistakeable understanding of the other. In the book, Patti said of Robert, "[he] seemed to appreciate all the qualities that repelled or alienated me from others," and in the span of just one night spent pouring over books on Surrealism, "[they] had mutually surrendered [their] loneliness and replaced it with trust." They formed an unconquerable friendship that served as the basis of their love story, and lasted the rest of their lives together. 

Patti and Robert were glorified dreamers at a time when such a thing was considered a valid profession. They subsisted on art, music, and good vibes while breezing in and out of the glamourous poverty of New York's city streets, always together in a way that was nurturing instead of codependent.  They worked side by side on their respective arts - hers, rock music and his, photography. He understood her as a shaman, a mystic, an urban gypsy and musician, a lover, and also as a girl trying to get a foothold on the world during a time when everything around them seemed slippery and temporary. 

Imagine for a minute being on a first name basis with Janis Joplin, wandering into a coffee house and being welcomed to a table by Nico from the Velvet Underground, making a trip to the Bowery to see William Burroughs, being nomads in your own city with a temporary address at the Chelsea Hotel. This was the New York of Patti Smith and Robert Mapplethorpe.

What they had is a dichotomy so rare that I can count the times I've personally seen it for myself on one hand. Loyalty without legality, a love built from respect and friendship instead of obligation. Patti Smith said it this way: "Both of us had given ourselves to others. We vacillated and lost everyone, but we had found one another again. We wanted, it seemed, what we already had, a lover and a friend to create with, side by side. To be loyal, yet be free."

I can think of no better definition of what love should be.

They held onto each other, through Patti's move from New York to Detroit to marry someone else, through the ups and occasional downs of both their careers, through drugs and Andy Warhol, and finally, through Robert's battle with AIDS, which he ultimately lost in 1989. The love between them went beyond sentimentality and ego. It was the profound understanding of another person's soul. And regardless of the relentless pull of life, they never left each other.

Their love was the gravity of their lives.

"Where does it all lead? What will become of us? These were our young questions and young answers were revealed.
It leads to each other. We become ourselves." -Patti Smith

Happy Friday, loves :)

xo.

images courtesy of Google images

It's a Good Thing

So I was watching the Chew yesterday afternoon because it's an awesome show and I have a crush on Clinton Kelly and Martha Stewart was a guest.

Turns out, the queen of domesticity and duplicitous financial practices was actually a model in the early 1960's. How cool is that?

She was kind of a stunna, don't you think?

I've always had this weird kind of respect for Martha Stewart. Dedicating your entire life's work to towels and decoupage and place settings and floral arrangements and creating the best Halloween magazine on newsstands takes the kind of balls that I just don't have. And to amass the kind of fortune I can only dream of as a result of those towels? Come on. She deserves some credit.

Hope you guys are having a good Wednesday.

xo.

all images found via google images

Tuesday's Tea Bag Philosophy - Vol. 5

Lord have mercy. If you are all wondering what kind of day I've been having - and don't act like you're not - it's the kind where I was attempting to justify a shot of liquor at 9:30 in the morning.

Lucky for the two kids that are here, I was unable to. But don't think I didn't try.

Surprisingly, I settled on some delicious detox tea instead. And this little gem was gifted to me on the tea bag.

Sometimes, I feel like Yogi tea was created simply to remind me to not have a nervous breakdown. Granted, it isn't that bad, but this was a really pleasant little surprise and a much needed reminder to chill out. To notice the sun punching through the clouds. To try and appreciate the sounds of Sesame Street.

And most importantly, to remember that the entire universe's ability to uphold itself is in no way dependent on my mood. I know, it came as a shock to me too. But believe it or not, the world doesn't spin on its axis just for me.

It isn't all about me. In fact, it isn't all about any of us. And that's a pretty harrowing thought for a 20-something. We're all so caught up in the relentless torments of trying to be figure out adulthood that we don't ever think to look up and notice that everyone else is struggling too. Everyone. Exactly like we are.

Not only does that awareness of others make us feel considerably less alone, it also makes our own problems feel much, much smaller. It allows for some perspective - perspective we don't see when we're knee-deep in self-pity, bitching and complaining and drinking too many White Russians on a random Thursday night.

So maybe instead of complaining and wallowing in the fact that you're single, or taken, or working when you'd rather be watching Mad Men in footie pajamas, we could all like, help. Call up someone and tell them you miss them, and mean it, and let them talk about what's been going on in their lives without ever making it about you. Write a thank you letter to your mom. For nothing and for everything. Go walk some of the dogs at the local animal shelter and give them a break from the stresses of being in such a miserable environment. Volunteer to read to inner-city children. Or hell, just smile at someone in line at Starbucks.

Step outside of yourself for just a little bit and I guarantee that those things you're dwelling on will loosen the white-knuckle grip they have on your stomach and your well-being. Realize that doing something entirely for someone else, even if it's simply letting them in during rush hour, has a much stronger effect than whining or binge eating gelato.

And while we're kinda on the subject, thank you. Seriously. I know this little blog isn't much, but it means the world to me that you consider me relevant enough to your day to take the time to check in with what's going on in my brain. Thank you all so, so much for reading. Really.

Happy Tuesday!

xo.

Le Temps De L'Amour

So it's Saturday.

And Saturdays are for digging through bins and shelves and piles of records at the local antique store with the moms and the boy.

At least they are for me.

And as a result of said trip to the antique store, I am now listening to the lovely Ms. Francoise Hardy on the record player. It's probably the gem of my bounty from today. She was a pop singer in France in the 1960's and she was absolutely stunning. Her voice is so beautiful that it doesn't even matter that she's singing in French. The message translates just the same and I love that my house is filled with her music this afternoon :) Makes everything just a little bit warmer, a little bit sweeter.

I also managed to bring home Bella Donna by Stevie Nicks and Nashville Skyline by Mr. Dylan for a whopping total of $9. And currently being held hostage at the antique mall? A set of 3 Pyrex dishes with the Americana pattern, 2 teal glass mid-century salt and pepper shakers, and 1 beautiful handwoven Aztec printed cross-shoulder bag perfect for say, summer music festivals. Obviously I'll be going back to rescue those soon.

From the little record shop:

(sorry for the wonky picture quality)

By the way, for those of you who don't know who Francoise Hardy is... remember that scene in Moonrise Kingdom where Suzy Bishop and Sam are dancing in their undies on the beach to one of Suzy's records? The song they're dancing to is Francoise Hardy's Le Temps De L'Amour, which means The Time of Love. Ugh, how adorable is that? Sam and Suzy are one of my favorite little love stories.

Here's the song and the some scenes from the movie, both of which you should all devour immediately.

Hope everyone's having a lovely, perfect, relaxing Saturday. I'm off to dance in my underwear.

xo.

It's Friday, I'm in Love

with February. And love and hearts and all that good stuff.

From my experience, people's attitudes towards the first couple weeks of this month vary from hating the commercialization of love by card and candy companies and blah blah, to just looovvving the idea of a day dedicated solely to the beauty of being in love and yadda yadda, to simply enjoying any excuse to bake and decorate the house in a specific theme.

For those interested, I am absolutely the last one. I adore holidays. Nearly all of them. I love themes and baking and doing little crafts, and finding cute seasonal things to do and having an excuse to shop the seasonal section at Target. I love all of it. And it doesn't hurt that this is the holiday where I can make little heart pancakes and leave love notes all over the place and not be considered dramatic and sappy.


So bring it on February. Bring on the love songs and paper hearts and M&M's that taste exactly the same but that are theme colors so you can charge me a dollar more. I want it all.

Here's to love and commercialization and Target and heart pancakes and Kenny G and promises and perfect dates and breakfast in bed and Hallmark. Here's to all of us.

And to vodka. Always cheers to vodka.

Happy February, loves!

xo.

images courtesy of weheartit and tumblr.