The bride wore a beautiful Valentino gown with polka dots. photos via
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Quotes
“This is the thing: When you hit 28 or 30, everything begins to divide. You can see very clearly two kinds of people. On one side, people who have used their 20s to learn and grow, to find … themselves and their dreams, people who know what works and what doesn’t, who have pushed through to become real live adults. Then there’s the other kind, who are hanging onto college, or high school even, with all their might. They’ve stayed in jobs they hate, because they’re too scared to get another one. They’ve stayed with men or women who are good but not great, because they don’t want to be lonely. … they mean to develop intimate friendships, they mean to stop drinking like life is one big frat party. But they don’t do those things, so they live in an extended adolescence, no closer to adulthood than when they graduated.
Don’t be like that. Don’t get stuck. Move, travel, take a class, take a risk. There is a season for wildness and a season for settledness, and this is neither. This season is about becoming. Don’t lose yourself at happy hour, but don’t lose yourself on the corporate ladder either. Stop every once in a while and go out to coffee or climb in bed with your journal.
Ask yourself some good questions like: “Am I proud of the life I’m living? What have I tried this month? … Do the people I’m spending time with give me life, or make me feel small? Is there any brokenness in my life that’s keeping me from moving forward?”
Now is your time. Walk closely with people you love, and with people who believe … life is a grand adventure. Don’t get stuck in the past, and don’t try to fast-forward yourself into a future you haven’t yet earned. Give today all the love and intensity and courage you can, and keep traveling honestly along life’s path.” - Relevant Magazine
Don’t be like that. Don’t get stuck. Move, travel, take a class, take a risk. There is a season for wildness and a season for settledness, and this is neither. This season is about becoming. Don’t lose yourself at happy hour, but don’t lose yourself on the corporate ladder either. Stop every once in a while and go out to coffee or climb in bed with your journal.
Ask yourself some good questions like: “Am I proud of the life I’m living? What have I tried this month? … Do the people I’m spending time with give me life, or make me feel small? Is there any brokenness in my life that’s keeping me from moving forward?”
Now is your time. Walk closely with people you love, and with people who believe … life is a grand adventure. Don’t get stuck in the past, and don’t try to fast-forward yourself into a future you haven’t yet earned. Give today all the love and intensity and courage you can, and keep traveling honestly along life’s path.” - Relevant Magazine
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Saturday, December 10, 2011
"Take a moment to connect with a stranger" by Miranda July
Grab hold of the nearest stranger. Don't take the stranger's hand,
God knows where that's been, but grasp their arm, firmly. Don't let go
until I tell you to.
Your best friend might meet this stranger at a rock show and they might sit in a parked car talking for hours and when they break up, 10 years later, the stranger, the one whose arm you're holding right now, might call you sobbing at odd hours of the night, asking What did I do wrong? And you will say, You did nothing wrong. Practise this now, say: "You did nothing wrong," to the stranger.
You may never meet this stranger again but you may, years from now, talk to the stranger's grown child, in another country and never put it together that you once held his mother or father's arm. It's unlikely to come up. Incidentally, the stranger's child will be very politically engaged, and you will do a lot of bluffing to keep up with the twists and turns of the conversation.
A few weeks from now, you might be at a restaurant with some friends and the people at the next table might be laughing incredibly loudly and with great frequency. And not at all innocently, you will think to yourself, they are laughing as if they are better than everybody else. The loudest laugher, the ringleader, has an especially arrogant cackle.
You imagine marching over there and punching the loudest laugher in the face, which is exactly the kind of fantasy you've been trying not to have. In an effort to apologise for the imaginary thrashing, you smile at the loudest laugher, who, you suddenly realise, is the stranger whose arm you held a few weeks ago.
This stranger might not have a drug problem now, but later, a few years after you become friends with the stranger, you will realise, with a sigh, that's it's best to take everything the stranger says with a grain of salt. Sigh now in preparation.
This is the first time you've touched the stranger, but the two of you might touch again, alone, in the dark. The stranger might ask you if that feels good and you might reply with an ambiguous mumble that the stranger couldn't possibly understand, and you feel the stranger wanting to repeat the question, but deciding not to and now it's too late for you to clarify your reply, which was affirmative. Confidentially, I would like to say to you now, It's never to late.
This stranger will die, sooner or later, and you probably won't be there to help the stranger let go of their life, which was made of many, many individual moments – this being one of them. Give the stranger's arm a gentle squeeze right now, as if to say: "Go on, you can do it, just let go without really thinking about it," as if life were a cup, or a rock, or piece of string.
You may let go of the stranger's arm now."
via
Your best friend might meet this stranger at a rock show and they might sit in a parked car talking for hours and when they break up, 10 years later, the stranger, the one whose arm you're holding right now, might call you sobbing at odd hours of the night, asking What did I do wrong? And you will say, You did nothing wrong. Practise this now, say: "You did nothing wrong," to the stranger.
You may never meet this stranger again but you may, years from now, talk to the stranger's grown child, in another country and never put it together that you once held his mother or father's arm. It's unlikely to come up. Incidentally, the stranger's child will be very politically engaged, and you will do a lot of bluffing to keep up with the twists and turns of the conversation.
A few weeks from now, you might be at a restaurant with some friends and the people at the next table might be laughing incredibly loudly and with great frequency. And not at all innocently, you will think to yourself, they are laughing as if they are better than everybody else. The loudest laugher, the ringleader, has an especially arrogant cackle.
You imagine marching over there and punching the loudest laugher in the face, which is exactly the kind of fantasy you've been trying not to have. In an effort to apologise for the imaginary thrashing, you smile at the loudest laugher, who, you suddenly realise, is the stranger whose arm you held a few weeks ago.
This stranger might not have a drug problem now, but later, a few years after you become friends with the stranger, you will realise, with a sigh, that's it's best to take everything the stranger says with a grain of salt. Sigh now in preparation.
This is the first time you've touched the stranger, but the two of you might touch again, alone, in the dark. The stranger might ask you if that feels good and you might reply with an ambiguous mumble that the stranger couldn't possibly understand, and you feel the stranger wanting to repeat the question, but deciding not to and now it's too late for you to clarify your reply, which was affirmative. Confidentially, I would like to say to you now, It's never to late.
This stranger will die, sooner or later, and you probably won't be there to help the stranger let go of their life, which was made of many, many individual moments – this being one of them. Give the stranger's arm a gentle squeeze right now, as if to say: "Go on, you can do it, just let go without really thinking about it," as if life were a cup, or a rock, or piece of string.
You may let go of the stranger's arm now."
via
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