look at this stuff
I was taking my time in this section, looking for a gem hidden among all the plain boring notebooks. An employee came up to me and asked the question all of us are familiar with "Can I help you find anything today?" I answered what most people answer to that question "No thanks, I'm just browsing." What I was doing would probably be better characterized as window shopping. Did I already have a brand new journal in my bag that I hadn't even used yet? Yes. Would that stop me from buying another notebook if a good one caught my eye? Definitely not. The salesman asked me another queston that I honestly don't exactly remember, it was something about journals. In my head I said “Don't you know 'just browsing' is salesman code for 'leave me alone'” but what I actually said was “I like getting new notebooks almost as much as I like filling them up.” I eventually found a notebook that intrigued me enough to buy, then I had to find a pen to go with it. I have this weird thing where I will only use one pen with each journal. It adds to the character of the journal. I don't know when it started but it's the rule and I have to follow it.
Looking back on may statement it is not true at all. I like the feeling that comes from filling a notebook up completely but really it is not too often that I actually do. Off the top of my head I can only think of two journals I have filled every page of. I couldn't even count how many I have started and moved on from before reaching that final page. Just because I haven't covered every square inch of paper doesn't mean it isn't finished. Each journal is a chapter; some chapters are about more important subjects than others, some are longer, some chapters overlap each other chronologically, but they are all special. I can take the smallest glance at the cover of a journal or the color pen it is written in and tell you when I wrote it and what major events are in it. The plaid cover holds the story of the first time my heart was broken. The journal written in silver sharpie is from my senior year of high school, mostly written when I was supposed to be listening in AP physics. The journal written completely in code I wrote mostly between 3 and 6 A.M. while working as a redshirt at the student center desk.
While I like finishing a journal, I love getting a new notebook, not just another one like all the others, but something new, something different, something special. You get to examine it for the first time, feel the texture of the pages I love seeing the blank pages and wondering and imagining what is going to fill them. It starts with wondering the simple things. What pen should I use with this? Is this book going to be filled with doodles? Am I just going to be using this to write down little notes about things I can't forget? Is this notebook special enough to be an actual journal? Will I actually be able to journal in this one everyday or will I last my regular two weeks and then skip a bunch of days? Then it moves on to the imagining. Where will I be when I finish this journal? What will happen to me along the way and fill its pages? What girl am I going to like that this journal will be the first (and sometimes only) person I tell about her? What new things will I learn? How will I change over the course of this journal?
A new journal is limitless possibilities.
Clark Little is a shorebreak art photographer. He takes pictures of waves from inside and underneath them.
Here are some of my favorites, if you really like them check out his book. Make sure you have someone strong to flip the pages for you though. It is 182 pages, over 100 photographs, 12x12 size, weighing close to 7 pounds.
<via dark roasted blend>
Jack Conte and Nataly Dawn make up the duo Pomplamoose. Before I had even finished listening to a whole song by them I knew they were going to be one of my new favorites. About 90% of the time since that first listen I have had some song of theirs stuck in my head.
It is perhaps slightly deceiving to call Pomplamoose a duo. There are way more than two parts to each song. Each of them play a multitude of instruments for each song. There are countless takes and tracks and tones all going on at once. Everything gets put together into what is called a video-song, which is different from a music video. A video-song shows them playing all the different parts of the song. If you hear it in the song you will at some point see it in the video. They are both fantastic at musicians and amazing editors. Jack mixes the music and Nataly edits the video.
Pomplamoose covers a great range of artists, from Earth, Wind, and Fire and Simon & Garfunkel to Beyonce and Lady Gaga. They also have a number of songs that they wrote themselves. Whether each songs is classic, current, or their own composition what really shines through is their own personality. You can tell that they love recording these and they love making great music.
Check out a couple of my favorites below, but be sure to head over to their Youtube channel and see everything they have to offer. You can also buy some of their songs on iTunes
I've always liked clothes that had a life before me. Most kids hate having to wear hand-me-downs, but I was different. I thought my brothers' trousers were cool. Perhaps this is one of the reasons why I've been mending people's clothes for free for nine years now. Every 15th of the month, I set up my self-made sewing cart at a corner in San Francisco and hem trousers, patch jackets and sew on buttons.
It all started when I found an old treadle sewing machine lying on the sidewalk in a well-to-do neighbourhood. I'm a ceramics artist, but I was also into sewing. I got excited immediately, put the machine in my truck and took it to my studio - as it turned out, all it needed to work was a new belt.
In 2001, a San Francisco art college invited me to take part in an exhibition about generosity. I bought some wheels, metal frames and fabric and built a sort of ice-cream cart, except that it had the old sewing machine on it. I also added an umbrella and a neon sign with the blinking word "sew".
For a week, I pushed the cart through the city. In addition to normal clothes that people asked me to mend, I fixed a kneepad for a dancer and a sleeping bag for a homeless man. And I talked to them. Sewing, it turned out, was the perfect entry point for conversations.
Then the Luggage Store, a non-profit arts organisation, asked me to set up my sewing cart in the Tenderloin, a rough area with drugs, street crime and prostitution. Occasionally, I would watch drug deals go down. Once, a guy ran by, put something under a van in front of me and ran away. When the police came and reached under the car, they found a gun. It was a scary moment. But apart from that, I like the Tenderloin and feel safe. It's one of the liveliest areas in the city and certainly the one with the best food.
But it wasn't easy at first. People were suspicious of me - until some of those same people remembered that they had some trousers that needed fixing and ran off to get them. And Tony, a big, friendly guy who is a sort of unofficial mayor of the block, was so happy with my work that he started telling people about me. Slowly, I built trust.
I wouldn't have kept up with this project for so many years if it wasn't for the people. Mending time is story time. It's amazing how many honest conversations I have had with strangers who would normally just walk on by: a street kid with a broken backpack, a man with the jacket of his best friend who had passed away, a woman whose daughter was pregnant and who wanted a sweater altered to fit a big belly.
I started my mending as an art project, but today it's something different. My cart has created a little community. For a while, I gave sewing lessons to Antoine, a neighbourhood kid. Merlin, a musician, joined us and played the violin, and Eric made coffee. One day, a businessman, a homeless man and a minister stood in front of my cart and discussed their memories of sewing machines. It was one of these beautiful little moments that reminded me that we are all from the same thread.
My most loyal client is Veronica, a woman in her thirties. She comes every month with a big bag of clothes. Once she brought along a newspaper photo of Jackie Onassis, her fashion favourite, wearing a fur-trimmed jacket. Veronica wanted to imitate her outfit and asked me to sew fake fur on to the hood of her pink velour jacket. I did my best.
One day she said, "I really like coming here because you listen to me." I looked at her pile of clothes, and it hit me. Sure, she needed clothes mended, but more, she needed someone to talk to.
A great story about community and about people.
I love the part at the end "Sure, she needed clothes mended, but more, she needed someone to talk to. "
How many people do we see each day that just need someone to talk to?
<Via BookofJoe>