vintage bookplate

A little more from the vintage paper fair:

This bookplate is from 1925. It's a lovely block print mounted on a thick matte paper. It struck me as being both dark and beautiful.

an unruly love for ampersands.

If I'd been waiting all my life to meet the right cutting board, this would be The One:

Things like this, from House Industries, seriously challenge my inner minimalist. The large cutting board is a little over my budget, and the small one is currently out of stock, but I think I'd enjoy chopping up things more if they were on an ampersand.

According to Wikipedia, an ampersand is a logogram, representing the word "and." Wikipedia goes on to say that the etymology of the word "is a corruption" of the phrase "and per se and." I like that: a corruption. I know I'm not the only person who loves this beautiful logogram, which reminds me, sometimes, of treble clefs in sheet music. There's also an ampersandland group on Flickr:

~takomabibelot

 

~takomabibelot

~thewifeofanartist

~Nick Sherman

I even have an ampersand tee:

If there were a logogram for 'or' I might be in trouble. I guess that's what I like about the ampersand - there are no decisions; it's so inclusive.

Happy Friday.

inspiration: yellow like the sun.

Winter must be getting to me because I am craving yellow. I've chosen (as in: folded the corners of catalog pages) a new yellow rug for the kitchen and yellow chairs, which my husband has yet to see. No doubt he will veto these choices, so in the meantime there are yellow tulips, which have been cheery in the dull, bleak mid-winter light.

I love the combination of film, sunlight, and flowers. The light and blooms remind me of Vermeer (although, to be clear, I'm drawing no comparison between myself and Vermeer), who seemed to rely heavily on natural light in otherwise dark and conceivably cold rooms:

Vermeer seems like a wintertime painter for some reason.

I think these pears want to be poached. Here's a recipe for making poached pears.

hal lutsky's vintage paper fair

I've started out the new year with some very old paper. Hal Lutsky's Vintage Paper Fair was held in San Francisco's Golden Gate Park this past weekend. The fair returns three times a year to Golden Gate Park, and also travels to Concord and the Los Angeles-area.

Not knowing what to expect, a friend and I went down to the Hall of Flowers to check out the fair. Primarily, it seems, it's a place to buy or sell vintage postcards and photos, booklets, posters, and other paper ephemera. You could easily spend all day looking through bins of sorted and categorized images, which really appealed to the writer in me. It's a great way to do period or location research, and also, in general, to find inspiration.

Here's some of what I took home, including my very favorite at the top:

merry christmas.

I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape - the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn't show.
~Andrew Wyeth

this time, next year.

I am really missing Paris and London lately. Yesterday my husband said, "I wish we were in our little flat" - referencing a flat he rented 3 years ago with a view of the Basilique du Sacré-Cœur.

This photo hangs near our bed so that we see it every day:


I understand it's snowing in Paris this year, but yesterday, three years back, my husband and I got engaged near the Seine river. It was very, very cold and clear and absolutely magical. He proposed on the winter solstice, the darkest day of the year, and we shared a bottle of champagne at a restaurant, funnily enough, called the Equinox.

On that trip, among the Christmas decorations we saw, were these flocked Christmas trees sold on street corners:


As far as I know, these trees were real. There is nothing like a real tree and the smell of pine or fir, which is one reason, I suppose, we've never bought an artificial tree. However, this year we were concerned about being "green" and attempted to buy a live, potted tree. We ran into several hiccups: (1) Local stores had limited quantities and tended to quickly sell out and/or despite all my work at the gym, I couldn't carry the tree without help (dirt is heavy); (2) We would need to find somewhere to donate the tree (I was told school districts were a good place to start); (3) Many of the trees were Juniper, which my husband is allergic to.

So. In the end, my husband went out to find a potted tree that he could carry on his own and came home with a cut tree - a lovely 6-foot Noble Fir. Christmas trees can be recycled and mulched into fertilizer, after all.

However, were I to go artificial next year (and I'm speaking for myself because I'm pretty sure my husband would draw the line at a "cashmere pink" tree), I might be inclined to go all the way, in the spirit of the Parisians, with one of these tinsel trees (sold at Target):




Or, to be really crazy, how about a tinsel palm tree?


Or, and I think my favorite, are these aluminum, vintage trees, which can be found on ebay.


I've seen some more modern versions in people's windows that are just frames strung with lights. A bit austere, but pretty at night.

And, I have to say, I missed out on the Bay Leaf wreath this year, but... not next year. This one is from Williams-Sonoma:

warmest winter wishes.

(As seen on Rachel Ashwell's Shabby Chic blog)

When the propensity for excitement is high, so too is the possibility for disappointment. I generally like holidays and having some tradition. It mixes things up. And the holidays provide a good excuse to be both more decadent and more restrained, and also more charitable.

I have been trying since December 1st to get a Christmas tree and, for various reasons, we still we do not have one. And we missed my company holiday party. And, with my holiday card plan foiled, I am still scrambling to send out a helter-skelter mix of holiday cards.

But...

I got a non-holiday card in the mail the other day that reminded me why I love greeting cards: a card that is sent when one isn't expected, hand-written with a very specific message. It made my day, and if that's not holiday spirit, I don't know what is.

So the holidays aren't going as planned. But in lieu of a tree and decorations, we've been doing wintery, cozy things like staying in to watch movies and cooking elaborate dinners. Instead of Christmas music I've taken up opera. Maria Callas on sunny, cold mornings. And (ahem, dear husband), there has not been a hot buttered rum to speak of, but that will soon be remedied. I haven't found Christmas where I was looking for it, but all things said and done, there has been plenty of cheer. Happy holidays.