I was talking with my younger brother yesterday. We live a couple of hours apart and it has been quite some time since we have spoken to each other. I Skyped him on a whim, missing the way his voice sounded and we said goodbye over five hours later at half past one in the morning.
Now, as siblings who have known each other our whole lives, our conversations seem to flow easily from one topic to another. We talked about politics and books. Music and stupidity. By the end of it we found ourselves discussing films and how it’s been a really long time since either of us felt we had watched a film that touched us deeply. Not just a film that was good, but a film that changed something inside of us.
Both of us are rather intense in our likes and dislikes. We tend to immerse ourselves completely in the subjects that interest us and we like to feel things deeply. Yet, the media we have consumed lately have felt somewhat lackluster. It’s not necessarily bad, it’s just not any better than good.
We started talking about our love for animated films and books. Graphic novels and anime. The way we both felt disconnected from it nowadays, yet we still remembered loving it so. We started discussing Miyazaki’s films, and studio Ghibli in general. For those of you that don’t recognize his name, Hayao Miyazaki is one of the founders of Studio Ghibli, an animated film studio from Tokyo, Japan. Him and his fellow directors and animators create simple, yet beautiful re-imaginings of children’s tales and new original stories. Most of them center around the idea that greed, war and lack of common sense and manners make us disconnected from what is important in life.
What is so special with his films is that they seem to appeal to those that would not usually enjoy the medium. To those that otherwise easily dismisses so-called ‘foreign’ productions. He bridges that gap and is able to influence and affect people of all ages.
He now claims he’s made his last film. I’m curious as to what kind of magic it will bring.
Image sources: 1 // 2 // 3
Last year in San Francisco, a tiny door appeared out of nowhere. It popped up in a tree in Golden Gate Park and quite soon people started leaving gifts and souvenirs for the fairies that may or may not have lived in there. Several articles were written about the door andafter only a couple of days, it was taken down. It was discovered that the wooden structure might be hurting the tree.
Fortunately, a replacement door was crafted and the father and son duo that so carefully measured and crafted this entrance for urban fairies in the first place, were allowed their tiny piece of everyday magic.
This installation, however, was not the first of its kind. As early as 2005, so-called fairy doors started to appear in the city of Ann Arbor in Michigan. They are believed to be the work of Jonathan B. Wright, a local author of the book Who’s behind the fairy doors? One can also find a more sinister counterpart to these joyful doors, a goblin door. The goblin door is slightly darker and a little more scary looking.
So, if you are looking for a bit of every day magic I suggest you travel to one of these places. Maybe you’ll stumble upon a portal yet unexplored.
In my old apartment, I was in the unfortunate position of not having regular access to an oven. I had, instead, a microwave and what could, if squinting was involved, be called a stove. On this I mostly made various versions of pasta dishes. Very exciting, I know. Since moving, though, all I do is cook.
Now, I’ve been a vegetarian for around five years now and in that time still have a laughably small amount of recipes that I know by heart. My mother raised me to cook without measurements, she never cared for instructions, but I have a certain fascination for recipes. These are some that I would like to try.
We have these beautiful Key Lime White Chocolate Cookies made by the talented Delicious by Dre. They look able to attain that gorgeous blend between sweet and sour that we sometimes want in a desert.
Then we have the Lemon Gremolata Pizza with Cauliflower Crust. This is one of the reasons it often surprises me not more people eat vegetarian food. Oh My Veggies just makes it look so good.
Lastly we have this wrap from A Beautiful Mess. It is a guilty pleasure food without most of the guilty. I can’t wait to try any one of these.
Do you have any recipes you think I would like?
This morning I woke up only having slept around two hours. The light was so blinding through my bedroom window that for a second I couldn’t even open my eyes. I stumbled clumsily to the glass and leaned my forehead against the cold surface until the morning sunshine became bearable and I could open my eyes to look outside. Outside my apartment building there are some disproportionately beautiful buildings. My own balcony is surrounded by hastily thrown up concrete and makes the color grey sound down right cheery. For some reason, though, all around my neighbourhood small architectural treasures seem to have grown out of the summer soil. Having discovered I live amongst these gorgeous buildings, I’ve taken to walk around randomly, crisscrossing between them. It makes me feel like I’m rediscovering the city. Like letting my fingertips touch the welded gates and newly blossoming flowers will bring something to life. Most of these houses have windows facing the street and from my own apartment I sometimes see glimpses of the lives of others. I see a child running through the living room. A young boy smoking on the balcony seconds after midnight. Old school music echoing out of an open window. Tired eyes meeting mine, coffee in one hand a disjointed monday morning. It’s sort of exhilarating.
Imagining other people complexly is really important and when you watch other people, humans, moving and walking about you notice that they are just so amazing. The way we breathe and our eyes sparkle and fingertips move when we find something exciting. It’s more than sort of beautiful and just a little magical.
Look at you go, human, being your perfectly imperfect self. I hope you have a great day today.
You know how some people can wait patiently for their turn in a conversation? How some people can contain their enthusiasm and sit quietly, silently, for hours? Yeah, I’ve never been one of them. No I am, unfortunately, an interrupter at heart. I have learnt to curb it pretty well these days but when I find something interesting (read: ALL THE TIME) it’s hard not to want to share it with every one of my friends RIGHT. THIS. MOMENT. No wonder I love music. It’s people all talking at once but instead of interrupting they harmonize.
My latest obsession has been the Korean indie-duo Akdong Musician or AKMU for short.
AKMU is made up of siblings Lee Chan-Hyuk and Lee Soo-Hhyn. The two talented stars participated in the Korean talent show K-pop Star 2 in 2012 and won the competition together. In 2013 the duo signed a contract with YG Entertainment, a large entertainment company in South Korea, and on April 7th 2014 they released their first album titled “PLAY”.
Their music can be described as light-hearted hip-hop/R&B with beautiful harmonies and a sweet young feel to it. The two siblings play well off each other and their songs feel perfect for early summer. They remind me of slow days and of road trips with friends.
Watch their cute music video for 200 % and see how they make being the third wheel the most adorable thing this side of Tuesday.
Image sources: YG Entertainment // Instagram
So, let’s see what all of the lovely people of the internet have been up to. This is some of the lovely that I have noticed during the week.
Over on the Jealous Curator we find these beautiful figurines. These beautiful tattooed ladies were made by the talented Jessica Harrison and should definitely be admired in all their glory.
Over at RookieMag I’ve been studying the last food eaten by celebrities before dying. It’s morbid yet fascinating these tiny details the Internet randomly provides us with.
My Milk Tooth have been dealing with the sweet sorrow of parting from your old house to move into a new one. I more than feel for the tiny friends struggling with leaving something behind.
Lastly, this friday finds us traveling back in time to the 1950’s Minneapolis. These images, curated by Thomas Lowry’ s ghost and put together by the Fields Office tell us a strange and everyday story of this old city filled with people and moments too.
I hope you have a marvelous weekend!
I’m a lover of rain. Of the way heavy water hits you on your shoulders and covers you head to toe. Weather as a full-body experience. That does not mean I dislike that great burning star shining down upon us. As a child from the northern parts of this earth, sunshine is something coveted and rarely seen. We’ve had a couple of lovely days this week but I fear that, though I personally may love the nice weather, it may not love. You see, the first thing that happened when I sat down to enjoy the sun was that a bird pooped on me.
Some people call that good luck. I must admit myself to being unsure of that.
And though I love the lovely days, my body seems to long for the lovely nights. I have always been a child of after midnight. Staying up until 4am, mind just not shutting down.
Where I live, summer nights lasts forever. During high summer, the sun goes down for barely an hour before rising once more. Sometimes it never leaves the sky. Sleep seems obsolete and impossible during those times. Yet I love the night and don’t generally mind it until the next morning.
On my computer, I have a folder I’ve named insomnia. Because during these long nights where I keep on trying to sleep and tire myself out, counting sheep just doesn’t cut it. When the digital numbers blink 04:57 and you’re so tired you could cry yet your body won’t fall asleep on you, or when you finally do fall asleep just to wake up ten minutes later – Those nights I open this folder and immerse myself in the quiet and calming parts of the internet. In hopes for something better.
I weave pictures with silk and write my thoughts to an entity that actually turn them into stars. I try to breathe and listen to music and I take ill-advised walks around my neighbourhood at an hour when normal people get killed.
During those longs nights I try to remember that while these moments seem slow there is magic here to. In the seconds leading up to dreaming. In the frenzy of staying up until sunrise two nights in a row.
Insomnia allows me to lives in the hours inbetween.To live in the space between waking and dreaming. It’s sometimes painful and not something I would recommend but I think it’s possible to find fairy dust even there.
To find the lovely in a rainy day and the good fortune in bird poop.
In the 1950’s, my paternal grandparents bought a summer-house. It had been both a bed and breakfast as well as a weapon storage for the military before they became its owners and the house had been the victim of many a remodeling. Walls had been removed and added on, doors put in places nobody could explain and storage units placed behind and underneath absolutely everywhere. It was, to say the least, a paradise for childhood imagination and adventure. Somehow, watching The Grand Budapest Hotel made me think of it once more.
Having never watched a Wes Anderson film before, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect with this one. I knew he had been praised by many and that actors flocked to participate in any of his creations. This, though, doesn’t necessarily say anything about the quality of the film. He was, however, a favorite of many of the people I admire so I decided I would give him a fair shot. I hoped not to be disappointed the same way I had been with Woody Allen.
The Grand Budapest Hotel centers around a young lobby boy and his experience with working a the Grand Budapest Hotel, his extravagant mentor Gustav H. and a country on the verge of war. The film documents the end of an era and the start of a new one in a way that makes you find comedy in the tragedy with characters all larger than life.
The film doesn’t pass the Bechdel test by any stretch of the imagination. I’m not sure how to feel about that. However, it is beautifully directed and poignant in a way that I did not expect. Truly a child of its time in many ways.
I remember leaving the theatre with a sense of wonder. But also guilt. Guilt at laughing when I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to. This film highlights the fact that when things are bad, they are also good. Discussing the film later with my friends, I wasn’t sure I wanted to share my observations. I wondered if I had taken the film too seriously. It had, after all, been marketed as a comedy.
I’m still not sure.
Images found via IMDB
” There was a crooked man,
and he walked a crooked mile.
He found a crooked sixpence
upon a crooked stile.
He bought a crooked cat,
which caught a crooked mouse,
and they all lived together in a little crooked house.”
sources: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
Adventure does not always necessitate leaving home. Sometimes finding magic means discovering you had nutella left in your kitchen or finding lost coins in old winter coats. Today, magic was spelled W-A-F-F-L-E-S. Lingering in the luxury of waking up slowly I looked out of my window and the clouds dancing across the sky reminded me of whipped cream somehow. That, or maybe I was simply reminded that I had picked up the item up during the week as a just-in-case with no real goal in mind.
I dug out my waffle iron, one I bought on sale and that has mostly been used to grill sandwiches so far. I was curious to see how well it would perform its intended job. Well, waffle iron…
I think the iron and I might need to spend some more quality time together before a final verdict is made though. With music on shuffle the iron and I struggled along and with flour, butter and whipped cream finally produced around seven perfectly decent waffles. Sitting down to eat, I looked at the tower in front of me and thought nervously that I hope I don’t die from this. You know, death is a definite side-effect of bad food. Scientifically proven and everything. I’m not being dramatic at all.
This little piece of every day magic didn’t seem to bring death in its wake though and I survived the first bite. And the second. Crossing my fingers that I will survive all the rest to. Starting the week with a little love from food, imperfect and messy like every relationship, allowed this slow morning to stretch the minutes. It tastes a little like childhood and first tries and sweetness.
The crown on the head of morning as we run around, hoping not to have left anything behind.