This morning, I have fooled myself into thinking I have nothing to say. In truth, I have much to say – please come, don’t knock, let me tell you my feelings, would you like some grapefruit water? – but when my feelings aren’t kind and controlled and focused, my mind is a rushed tour guide
Ever since I began slow blogging two years ago, I’ve noticed a strange trend in my own life; an unexpected shift that seems counter-intuitive to how I’m wired to operate – how our culture is wired to operate. It’s this: The better the moment, the less pull I feel to document it.
One of my favorite social channels is Instagram because of the ease in which it depicts the truest sense of my everyday life. From overseas adventures to hallway shenanigans, it’s our snapshot of today, one that I know I’ll be so grateful to have tomorrow. The only downside? My family members that aren’t on Instagram
I Instagrammed this photo of Ken over the weekend after catching a glimpse of him being a father. I don’t know if you have children, or if you have husbands or someone in your life that you’ve lived with for so long that sometimes you look up over the steam of broccoli for dinner and
A few days ago, I was perusing the work of Karen Barbe (an amazing textile designer / photographer based in Chile) and came across the sweetest story that paints a perfect portrait of growth, innocence and the art of discovering talents anew:
I’ve never met a photo album I could love and often tuck away family portraits into the depths of my credenza. But this? This sculptural photo album from Debra Folz? I could seriously get behind it. ($150) LINK: DEBRA FOLZ
Kicking off the afternoon with a yummy juxtaposition. Left: fenk / Right: .p@ul.
This can go on my portrait wall, right? Even though I can’t see her face? Snap. I’m doing it anyway. Link: BRUNO ROELS