my life is an Impressionist's painting

I always had an attraction for the Impressionism and painting en plein aire. Nature doesn’t  strike a pose.


Like in a poem, verse by verse, the artist’s vision is created with minimal brush strokes patiently assembled with unparalleled technique. I was a child and amazed by the magic sensation of seeing the picture only from far away. An impression. 

Life can be the result of these minuscule paint brushes, one by one. Sometimes it goes fast, sometimes it gets stuck. Time goes by. You have the impression that your life will take a certain direction, however, from a distance. 

Like Monet, you keep going to your magic garden: pond, lotus flowers, sunset, sundown, dawn, dewdrops, rain, sunshine. But sometimes it really seems stuck, in rewind mode. You start the morning with the good intentions of keep it going, and by the end of the day you wish you had slept all day: no paint brush got you closer to the impression. Tomorrow is another day.

Then alas a setback: people trying to convince you to take a different direction. You may want to believe they are doing it for your own good, and you come to the conclusion you ought to stick to your own intuition. Your impression. And the painting is dangling on the easel.

Just the last week of my life has been the catharsis of my own entire oeuvre. 

Consistency, perseverance, difficulties, adversities, belief, determination, self esteem started brushing the impression lively. Patience, observation, compassion, intuition, enthusiasm tweaked the shades. 

I am seeing the picture: it is close to that original impression I had and could not figure out to materialize. Amazing is how I thought I was never going to get it. As a fact I must say that I proudly made it happen.

the "independent fashion blogger" status

we have been officially welcomed to the “independent fashion blogger” society. it sounds fab, Haute, champagne & caviar-like …

we’ll let you know how it feels, now we are enjoying the crown and gracefully accept the crown.

f.b.c.reations

miami blues

miami colors were there for me to get inspiration. nature, brightness, sparkling, intensity, heat, depth and why not love. when you are in love everything is happy and beautiful, your mind drives on a hedonistic stream. intuition and perception pushed me further and for the first time I have added some bling bling (I live in miami overall).

turquoise for the waters, smoky quartz for the waves, peridot for the bushes, suede for the sand and the stones, rhinestones for all that jazz that is always shining and sparkling in Miami.


colors

some thoughts on how lately my life all relates to colors. 

the blues of the sky, the contrasts with the green of the bushes and the sparkles of the sun on the waves of the ocean. that is where the inspirations of the new “miami blues” collection came. all those colors translated into tourmaline, citrine, turquoise, jade, smoky quartz and lots of cubic zirconia. 

my new hair stylist is experimenting in my hair color. reddish? that I am redheaded is not a secret. but how do I describe my red? it has definitely nothing to do with fire or auburn (that somewhere’s housewife no-no-no). but then what is that red of a natural red hair and freckles gal? mine is a little bit of carrot, a little bit of Venus of Botticelli, in between dark and light copper, maybe strawberry or ginger, to the lightest extreme. 

I wander if I am in an aesthetic phase, where eyes and vision have priority in provoking my other senses in discerning, choosing and being happy or getting upset. I will check it our next time I am at a restaurant if my selection is dictated by the color that maybe fits my outfit. which is still blue (can’t have blue hair, alas).

grey is the new black. it is not a nonsense. I’m confident it’s that chic color that always falls elegant, sexy, easy from day to night. but what grey. it is not charcoal, maybe elephant, or blurred smoky, or heather melange grey, it could be a little bit of sand (the wet one) or stone-ish. and: it goes deadly fabulously with platinum and diamonds. 

P.S. I think Pantone should create a blue named Avatar, although the blue of the movie is a state of mind.

free falling

  notes at the end of a journey.

  expectations and giving. 

friendship, dating, marriage exist because of a two-way circuitry. feelings, sensations, butterflies in the stomach, happiness, laughter, complicity, long nights spent trying to change the world, empathy, compassion, support: all of this is flow of energy. the relativity principle makes the universe work. give and take, receiving in giving is the reality. the majority of people thinks this is pure dream, belief and illusion cause they assume that a relationship is based on expectations.

devilish, dominant ego is what makes people go into a relationship with expectations, with a definition of what it is due to be.

"you have expectations that I do not want to meet", "your expectations are different than mine", "women go out once and want to get married"

it is nonsense. 

maturity, originality, open minded predisposition, lessons from the past, evolution should lead us to realize that the moment you frame a relationship it will never work. it becomes a burden, a bore, an imposition, routine. a mother can be a cool friend, a wife can be your accomplice, a friend can be your teacher or viceversa. you just have to see it and let it happen. 

it is so far deep as a concept that maybe it is easier to just not go for it.

Si por apostar todo al amor verdadero perdiste amor y vida. No llores niña mía, pues más perdió aquel que no supo ver tu amor verdadero.

these verses in Spanish mean: if for posting everything on true love you lost love and life, don’t cry, since the one who couldn’t recognize your true love lost more.

somebody told me: you cannot lose Love, because loving is giving and it’s within you. you can lose with wanting, requesting, expecting, pretending because it depends on the other person and on expectations.

the diamond in the raw

I was reading an article in the Il Corriere about two women, very well regarded architects, who dedicated their career to transforming ugly things into appealing, desirable ones such as parking lots, canes, crutches and neck bone collars. The final comments of the writer was that only women have this amazing capacity of digging beauty out of ugliness, “they must have learnt this practicing on us men.”

Truly every woman has the love life that she wants and when she wants one man she goes and gets it. No matter if others think he’s just a frog that will never become a prince. No extra miles are enough. We have the skill of seeing the prince and pursue him with passion, love, compassion, empathy, tears, laughs, sacrifices, compromises . 

The question is: why?

it's hot here and it smells like fish ...

another of my lines. it came out perfectly loud and indeed everything was true. coats on, ready to leave the restaurant but the conversation was so interesting that we all sat at the table with our furs on. the table next to us had just had delivered some deadly scented fish soup. we all burst into laughter and decided it was going to be the title of my next post.

the subject was intriguing and intertwining:  communication vs conversation. 

audrey hepburn

the scene.

a girl on a long distance relationship. ingredients:  Skype, email, video, computer, airplanes and 9 hours time difference. 

another girl at the eve of an unpleasant divorce. ingredients: nasty text messages, false communication just to limit contact at the minimal. 

our best friend on the verge of a nervous breakdown ‘cause of too many dates to chose from, he had to cancel on someone, quickly, what a pity. ingredients: dating sites, texts, ignore texts, email. 

and there was me, waiting for a phone call : “Damn it, I don’t want to miss it, but I hate leaving the phone on the table” type of spinning. ingredient: the ring on the phone.

we are submerged by means of communication. most flunk when you need them: “call failed”. nothing worst than connecting again after an unwanted abrupt interruption, “so, I was saying” and the flow, the magic, the intention, the tone, the spirit are gone.

hot spots, immediate texting, the “I am going to post it on Facebook” facilitate communication but kill conversation. 

we find ourselves under a blanket of daily communications, hundreds of emails in the inbox, delete the junk, feel the urge to spread the latest gossip right now. fewer times we engage in a conversation. 

I have learned. now relationships end on Twitter or because of Facebook.

however, when you first met that same person, wasn’t fascinating that “we could talk for hours about anything” or “we have so many things in common we didn’t realize that the evening went by”? 

it is rare to be able to share experiences, laughter, thoughts, hypothesis, passions, sports, colors. you should always be able to feel those butterflies in the stomach.

the key is the conversation. the killer is when you find yourself left like the last stuffed pepper on the tray that nobody wants, (Laura Esquivel depicts it very well in “Like water for chocolate”) just because somebody else is faster @ tweets or at deleting you from the Facebook contacts.

on a lighter note: don’t make what you think into what you know.

have a conversation first.