Whenever I’m interviewing an artist or designer about their work, I always make sure to hit the usual suspects: “Where do you find your inspiration?” or “What’s a typical day like for you?” or – perhaps the most telling of all – “Peanut butter or jelly?” Yet, by far, the prompt that elicits the most
Before Ken and I moved from Los Angeles, we vacationed up north with his parents to see the redwood forests – a memorable vacation that would be our last with my father-in-law, “Papa Bill”, who passed away a few short years later. Bill loved trees – a hobby he’d passed down to Ken – and
“If something feels like it’s closing, you should just say, ‘OK, I’m fine.’ You should just let it go and think of … you just think of something else.” -Asa Baker-Rouse, age 6 As the wife of a film editor, I’m often thinking of fun projects Ken and I can work on together as Bee
As I’ve found myself enjoying a slower pace this year, I’ve noticed a few surprising benefits in my daily routine. Somehow, the act of blogging slower and with more focus has trickled into other areas of my life: I savor meals rather than voraciously shoveling spoonfuls into my mouth, hunched over my desk. I pause
… preferably in a ball pit. I have an admitted fear of ball pits, because OMG germs, but I’d make an exception here. Soul Pancake orchestrated a touching project (dare I call it a public art installation?) encouraging grown-ups to harness their inner child, pause their days and reach out to a new friend. The
I always love hearing about how mothers spend their days with their littles – are they homebodies, like Bee and me? Or do they explore, seek and play outdoors – always ready for a new adventure? I was recently asked to share my day on So, How Was Your Day? – a brilliant peek into
I’ve colored my hair in many-a-places, with many-a-products. (Remember Sun-In? Gosh.) Naturally (pun!), after hearing about a recent scientific experiment using gold nanoparticles to dye hair, I absolutely had to learn more. And the deeper I dig, the more I realize that the future of aesthetics is, indeed, limitless.
Whenever I chat with designers who happen to have children, a recurring theme continually surfaces: the idea that, as parents, we’re all just really trying to create products that solve problems for our families. Take Italian father Matteo Ragni, for example: a designer who not only created his own version of an everyday beloved toy,