There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls. ~George Carlin

Halloween. My favorite holiday of the year. It falls exactly two weeks after my birthday. The parties. The costumes. Scaring kids. What's not to adore? It brings out the youth in even the most curmudgeonly old men.

wind of change...

We're only two days shy of November, and today was sunny and a balmy 81 degrees. There is still a part of me that is waiting for the leaves to change colors, to see my neighbors emerge from their houses bundled up in sweaters and scarves.

Admittedly my acceptance of this new climate is slow...I'm not sure I'll ever adjust to the idea of wearing shorts in November/December/January - it's just not in my blood. And while I'm still trying to adjust to the typical SoCal autumn months Mother Nature is throwing in yet another twist... the 'winds'.

The winds, AKA ‘Devil’s Breath’ are more commonly referred to as the Santa Ana winds. I've heard the Santa Ana winds mentioned in various forms of pop culture, I suppose; I've never paid much attention to it. And yet, the other day I found myself standing in a parking lot....a head of typically obedient hair was protesting the static electricity in the air. Somehow this minor inconvenience felt overwhelming in significance and left me feeling defeated....

Something about my experience and mood that day resulted in me coming home from work to research the Santa Ana winds. Of course I know that there is a scientific explanation regarding the origin and effects of these winds, but I was more interested in the perceived psychological effects....

Case in point, consider this statement that I pulled from http://www.angelcityart.com/so-cal-weather.html;

'Mysterious, seductive and strong, the Santa Ana Winds are one of the unique phenomena that helps gives Southern California its allure. '

How can winds possibly be mysterious? Seductive? Please. It's wind, and there is clearly a very basic scientific explanation regarding it’s origin, right?

After another five minutes of internet research I answered my own question with 'yes......and no'. While there are certainly scientific explanations that support the cause and effect of these winds, there is still a bit of mystery concerning how these winds can affect one's mood. After all, even native Angelenos claim that the winds have effects, both physical and psychological.

Wikipedia’s (scientific) summary of the effects of Santa Ana winds on a person’s mood is as follows;

The adverse pulmonary health impacts have been understood by local doctors for decades; the winds pick up and transmit grit, dust, pollens, mold spores and other irritants and allergens for considerable distances. Gastrointestinal effects such as hypermotility and psychological effects such as anxiety and irritability can be produced by these winds.^[5] These effects are thought to be produced by increased levels of serotonin in the body.^[6] It has been hypothesized that the positively charged CO2 ion, produced by these winds prevents the naturally occurring breakdown of serotonin in the body, giving rise to the increased levels.^[7] These serotonergic effects have been reported to be successfully reduced with ambient anionization.^[8]'

Winds that can make you feel anxious and irratable? Great. Yes, I need just a little more anxiety in my life, please.

The winds have died down for now, but I'm sure there are more 'wind experiences' in store for me this season. Until then, the Santa Ana winds will remain as yet another way of interjecting a bit of humor into my everyday life. When I find myself waking up in the middle of the night, slightly spooked, I can't help but think that the winds may be at fault. These ominous winds aren't through with me yet....

It goes on

Friday Street Art II: Alexandre Farto aka 'Vhils'

VHILS is the tag name of Portuguese graffiti/street artist Alexandre Farto (1987—) He gained prominence when his work of a face carved into a wall appeared alongside a picture by street artist Banksy at the Cans Festival in London in 2008. A photograph of him creating the work appeared on the front page of The Times.

Portugal

Moscow

London

you and me

Happy Birthday to youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu....

My father is hands down the most interesting person I know, and probably the most interesting person you know as well, if you've ever had the pleasure of meeting him. :) Though I often blame him for passing down his most arduous genes to me, these same genes can be attributed to the fact that I’ve had courage to take risks in life. My life, and the decisions I’ve made can be described using any number of adjectives, but ‘boring’ is certainly not one of them.

Happy Birthday Dad, I wouldn’t trade you in for the world. I love you!

Be quiet, please?

compromise...

Determined to find a balance between Southern California beach and (winter) Midwestern attire.....

It's almost winter in California...

I found myself in Venice, California yesterday. Me - a recent Midwest transplant still trying to adjust to this California beach vibe, I stepped out of the car wearing a cotton dress, tights, knee high boots, and a comfy cardigan that would complete the blatant advertisement of my 'I'm obviously not from here' look. Even before I could close the car door my eyes focused on a gal across the street. The epitome of Southern California, this blond beauty was sporting a perfectly disheveled ponytail, khaki shorts, and a very basic yet polished white tank top. I instantly peeled off my tights. The closer I got to the beach, the more layers I shed. Off came the belt, off came the cardigan. I even bought $7 flip flops on the Venice boardwalk to replace my knee high leather boots (I was convinced these boots were going to cause me to melt right there and then in the California sunshine). As I sat in the sand, sporting new flip-flops and lugging around my beloved leather boots, I came to the realization that despite the never-ending summer that is Southern California, I am still a girl born and raised in the Midwest and dammit my soul knows that it's almost November! Hey California! It's time to pull out the sweaters. And sweat if we have to.

I'm like cat here, a no-name slob. We belong to nobody, and nobody belongs to us. We don't even belong to each other.

With the whole state tied up in football madness and me not giving a good god damn I'll share with you MY Sunday night release:

I haven't read a book this quickly in quite awhile. I know it's cliche at this point to love Audrey, especially Breakfast at Tiffany's Audrey, but this movie makes the burgeoning arty high school version of me giddy still. (I went to New York last weekend and walked past this very corner on Fifth Avenue and geeked out just a little.) The book takes you through the making of the movie while hitting on points like Truman Capote writing the book that, for any fan, is pretty awesome. My life will be consumed with Tiffany's for awhile as I plan to watch the movie and re-read Capote's story after finishing the book.

To Holly Golightly; thanks for teaching me that it's okay to be the quirky chick, the one who marches to her own beat, who dreams bigger, plays harder, falls faster and learns from her mistakes and who is brave enough to do it all again.

France, anyone?

I've decided that my new 'life plan' will involve the following;

1) Work really, really damn hard and save, save, save

2) Buy a small cottage in France

3) Maintain small vineyard at said cottage in France

4) Write, and write, and then write some more

5) Invite family and friends to cottage to enjoy wine and words

Sounds pretty good, hey?

the gradual return to normalcy

I can already feel it - this weekend is officially the first weekend that I can recall that bears any resemblance to 'normal' life. I woke up early this morning clear-headed and full of optimism. I kept the computer closed and instead opened a new book. Even before my first cup of coffee I recognized a very foreign feeling...I think that feeling is what other, more functional people, refer to as 'energy'.

Happy Friday!!

I've survived the first four weeks at my new job! Slowly but surely I'm beginning to feel less and less like this....

And to celebrate surviving the first month I plan to reward myself with this.....

and this....

Street art Friday....

Someday

Nightmares.....you are officially banned

Last night I had the most terrifying nightmare I have ever had. The kind where you wake up feeling emotionally drained and still a bit traumatized.......even now, 14 hours later, I feel the effects of that nightmare! Ah!!! Here's hoping that tonight brings dreams of puppies, tropical beaches, and wonton soup (yes, these are my three favorite things!)

Is this love?

Minimalism to the Max

Mumford and Sons - Little Lion Man

Twinkle little star, twinkle!

We Were Promised Jetpacks - Quiet Little Voices

Statues

All that glitters....

Please stay!

Let's start this week out right.....

In response.....

The internet postings that I manage to stumble upon in my few minutes of free-time are often quite random and lacking any sort of rational order. However, I can't help but think that they are often meant for me to read, similar to the rare occasion that I happen to read my horoscope in a local newspaper....those predictions are *clearly* written for me, and me alone. :)

This entry was posted on a website by author JM Kenyon in response to an Emily Dickinson poem...

I don't think it is that Emily Dickinson didn't understand love. My guess is that this poem was written by a mature poet that has come to accept that Love is subjected to the conditions of Life and Life is ever changing.

I know the things that are tucked in my own drawers (physically and mentally), if I did not still love these things, I'd have thrown them away, they are reminders of what was precious; letters, pressed flowers, momentos and trinkets, words and actions to hang emotions on... a treasure to me... insignificant junk and boring drama to those who cannot know the sentimental value.

Eventually we will have to let everything go at some time... the drawers in my heart, mind don't hold memories of anything that I do not want to know again.

Hit the right notes