It's a question I've often asked myself: what makes Rachel's pictures so good? Because they are, they really, truly are. Good in a way that kind of defies belief sometimes, because, and I am testament to this, what she captures in her images isn't just so much the 'moment' or the 'instant', what is happening in that very second that the shutter clicks, but rather the atmosphere and feel of the entire day, the entire story, the entire life. Everything she does rings with that quality of wholeness that I just can't find a better word for. Completeness. An image in its entirety, which is to say it's not really an image at all, more like a continuous, fluid moving picture. In that sense her work is very cinematic. These pictures are the perfect example of this. Little Flowers have a wonderful story - delivering bunches of the best blooms daily for $25 - and Rachel just gets it. Makes me interested to know more but also makes me feel like I know enough to head on over to their website and book a bunch of flowers just for fun. And, if anyone was interested, they deliver to Sydney Uni and I'm there Monday-Wednesday, just doing my thang, you'll normally find me in a forgotten lecture room in the quad, and I really, reallylike flowers.
Today is getting shit done day. No ifs ands or buts about it. Rug up in a puffer vest and big scarf, bring supplies of chocolate and small change for a cup of tea, fill your bag with a hundred books and head off to the library. Don't go on facebook. Don't go on instagram. Don't go on blogger. Just read, read, read. Not because you have to (but you do), but because you want to. See the difference? You want to do your work because it needs to be done. So just do it. Get shit done.
Okay that's it. I've made up my mind. Instead of the fancy dinner party I planned on throwing - just for kicks - I'm going to have a breakfast instead. I'm going to invite friends over and cook from some of my favourites (Nigel, Nigella and Sophie, of course) and treat my guests to muesli and muffins and mugs of tea and neverending gossip because breakfast is the best, most heartwearming, most exciting of meals isn't it? Because you have the whole of the day ahead of you, because it could go any way, because nothing is impossible after you've had muesli and yoghurt, because it might make you feel like james bond for a day, and who doesn't want that? This is happening.
"The modern strawberry is a tale of disappointment and delight. I have learned to treat each punnet of really good berries I encounter as a box of fleeting, precious jewels, a treat to be enjoyed with unalloyed pleasure; no cream, sugar or splash of Beaujolais, just the warm berry in all its scarlet glory. That perfect fruit is a rare find, but once you chance upon it life seems, for an instant, to stand still. Eyes closed, you are briefly lost in buttercup meadows, with bees buzzing on the heavy afternoon air. You need to make much of a truly excellent strawberry when you find it.... Once a year I find myself falling for a cardboard punnet of misshapen, organic fruits the loud scarlet-red of a Ferrari. It is then, breathing in their honey-sweet scent, the prickle of their yellow seeds on my lips, that I wish they could always be like this."
When is a strawberry just a strawberry and yet simultaneously not a strawberry at all, much more than a strawberry, really? Only in the hands of Nigel Slater. Some people in the world just getfood. Nigel is one of them. And when you find people who get Nigel as much as you do (your mother, you friend, the proprietor of your favourite canteen) then you need to hold on to them for dear life, because you know that these ones are true keepers.
There are possibly only two reasons for the fact that I am one of the world's most hopelessly devoted film buffs. Firstly, my mum's Vanity Fair subscription, which kept my elbows-deep in Hollywood drama from the ages of twelve to sixteen. And secondly, the Cannes Film Festival. Teen Vogue used to cover it in the breathless way that only Teen Vogue can ("Kirsten Dunst, her honey locks back to strawberry as she films the latest installment of Spiderman, was every-inch the Sofia Coppola heroine in a backless pistachio satin sheath dress at the premiere of Marie Antoinette!"), and for a teenager that's pretty powerful stuff. There was always a cinderella moment, a belle of the ball (Diane Kruger in that mercury dress!), a class clown, a European up-and-comer (Cannes is, after all, where the world first met Brigitte Bardot) and the hangers on in haute couture. There's something about the excess and the elegance of throwing together world-famous stars and world-famous supermodels and world-famous beautiful people in one gloriously naff Riviera setting and pressing play. You never know what's going to happen. All you know is that the men have to be in tuxedos, even the paparazzi. My life dream is to go to Cannes one day. Until then, well, this year's festival starts today.
A few weeks ago Rachel and I went to Palm Beach and had smoothies at The Boathouse and took our sweaters off and greedily bathed in the sunlight and dreamt of a life lived at the edge of the ocean, north of the beaches. In more ways than one it was so sweet. See the whole post here.
Strawberries and cream for dessert a la Vesper Lynd, $6 spray carnations from Thomas Dux, Orchard Street Juice number 3, Benedict Cumberbatch being oh so evil in the new Star Trek movie, this soap really is the dream, Jamie's 30 minute meals are actually quite fun, still never going to get over the fact that this is a thing, finally updating my tired, cracked phone to an iphone5! hello focussed pictures for instagram (all that matters), heartbeats, love by philip larkin, Bespecd treviso glasses in burnt chestnut, it's only been four months but dreaming of paris, always, always, the world is not enough, van rycke la vie bracelet, the way that babies look at you when they wake up from sleep, pana mint chocolate, friends who know what's wrong without you even asking, Clarins beauty flash balm, i love mr mittens popeye beanie with pom pom, cold winds lead to sweaters and sandals, coats and ballet flats, The hobbit out on DVD, the first issue of brace is out! shaken, not stirred, and happy mother's day to mamma yee, the best, the only, the one.