Rusty Glaze

Found at a thrift store in Point Reyes, this odd little pottery vessel would make a good bud vase:

Sloped Roof On A Box

Blue Magpie Design offers many tiny ceramic houses. (Process photo from Facebook.) I love these shiny little buildings.

Houses Scribbled As Ever

The middle zine, Home, consists of "8 pages of sweet/chilling homes." Encountered on Flickr via the creator, edu martínez piracés. (Why do people insist on styling their names without capitalization? Why? Don't worry, no one thinks you're bourgeois if you ascribe to a semblance of normal grammar.) Individual photo posts: 1, 2, & 3.



For good measure:



Pieces entitled break and enzo mari.

In The Flesh

"1950s biomorphic ceramic bowl with atomic-like design. This bowl was designed and made by noted engineer/artist Tracy Kinsel who was associated with the group Experiments in Art and Technology"--for sale on One Kings Lane.

Nothing is more creepily home-appropriate than this abstract fleshy bowl. The word "biomorphic" is so weird. Hey, it'd be perfect for a postmodern Halloween party; just pile some candy in there...

Bucket O' Froth

Hudson Bay Cafe, chai latte in ginormous mug:



When I ordered a large, I didn't know what I was getting myself into. Thankfully, I was up to the task of consuming this drink. My favorite thing about the Hudson Bay Cafe is their spicy chai blend. Nevermind the ludicrousness of the term "chai tea"...

It's funny how I've been noticing more homey moments or eye-grabbing decor details at restaurants. Perhaps I should institute a category for not-home dining locations. Perhaps I should visit more actual homes.

Regular Person Summer Rush

Lately I have been much busier than I'm used to being. A resurgence of interest in social interaction has me flitting (or fleeing...) from event to event and going on dates and ALL OF IT; it is so taxing. Today I have several outstretched hours to spend writing and blogging, and that feels good. But I also feel restless. Do I always feel restless? Dissatisfied, yes, yearning for the next step in my self-improvement. Sometimes I wish I didn't have a concept of "future", or at least not one that consumes so much attention.

Regardless, here is a strange little display that I pass whenever I walk the dog on a certain route:



And here is a gold-and-oxblood teapot that held a chestnut blend, from yesterday's brunch at Lovejoy's Tea Room:

Free Yellow Squash

My neighbor Lola is so nice. She put some fresh produce from her garden out on the sidewalk, up for grabs! I snagged one of the yellow summer squash. I haven't cooked it yet--one of my parents will probably toss it on the grill--but it looks delicious.



And here are a couple of illustrated versions of the same vegetable:

// $35 //

// $8.75 //

Bright Breakfast

I love when a series of photos convey the mood of a certain experience. Moments are so quick that sometimes we wonder if they ever existed, and the physics-defying magic of art is being able to capture a fleeting feeling. There are no people in following images, but I hope you can still sense the smiles generated by this cheerful communal breakfast:

Grilling & Grinning

My father's company gave him this grill to celebrate 25 years of employment. It's almost paleolithic these days, to have a single-company career. I imagine that my own future resume will bounce from brand to brand, essays distributed among various online portals. Of course, there's no way to know that--the future is still on its way. Give the tech world a decade, and my current aspirations may be old hat. I'm running full tilt toward my own obsolescence.

The company sent my dad a congratulatory letter and a brochure. "Happy Anniversary, Mister Employee! Here's what you can choose..." The grill was one of the gift options. Dad could have picked a semi-fancy watch. But he's not the ostentatious type; my father is satisfied with his $25 Target-brand timepiece.

The grill gets a lot of use, especially during the summer. Using the stove or the oven makes the kitchen air start baking--I'm not bothered, but my mom is menopausal and short-tempered with heat. The grill sits out on the patio, occasionally half-coated with sunshine but often covered by the blue shadow of the house. In the kitchen, my dad twitches his hips to songs streaming from Pandora, dropping duck legs into spicy, acidic marinade. He calls to me, "Sonya, will you make a salad?" I will.

I scoop sliced chunks out of an avocado, depositing them on top of sliced tomatoes and chopped lettuce. My elbow knocks the stainless steel bowl and it spins a quarter turn. Dad reaches for the drawer below the counter where I'm working, and I have to step back, pausing my spoon in the avocado. We laugh, extracting the familiar joke that whenever more than one person is in a kitchen, they want to be in the same place. "Science says so," I giggle to him.

Middle-class suburbia, summer suppertime paradise.

Rustic & Refined Dinnerware

// petrified wood // handmade ceramics //

Would you combine these two sets on one table? I totally would. I love the various shades of chocolate brown. And that little chunk of cheese on the wooden platter makes me hungry. I can almost smell the spicy string of marigolds on the right.

Incongruity is mysteriously charming. Both of these sets consist of finely crafted pieces (or so the websites claim), but each gives a distinct aesthetic impression. Cabin couture versus tea party trappings. When the two are paired together, what do they mean? What story do they tell about the person who laid the table?

That's the crux of home decor. It's a way to display identity--not only to display it, but to form it. If I use organic bamboo cutlery, then I can think of myself as an Earth-loving minimalist. It isn't necessarily false--consumer habits are easily influenced by political positions. Overall, I think that's a good thing.

Tea Stuff

My tea fixings before the water was boiled and poured. It's fun to drink "The Portland Blend" from a Portland-themed mug. The tea's flavor is very chocolatey, and would go well with Portland's infamous gloomy weather. But I think it's just as tasty in clear-skied California.



The other day I noticed that my neighbor has a great "capsule collection" of ceramic mugs:



Okay, that's all. I simply wanted to share some recent sights that I enjoyed.

Trader Joe's Lavender Salt Scrub Review

A couple of months ago my mom bought me Trader Joe's Lavender Salt Scrub as a treat, because she is a sweetheart. Immediately I thought, "Yay, I can post a review!" This is your brain on blogging. I waited until now so I could get to know the product.

20-ounce tubs are available for $14.69 on Amazon (shipping included) but apparently they cost roughly $5 in a Trader Joe's store. (My mom didn't remember the price; I had to trust random online sources.) You can also find the scrub on eBay, which seems weird to me but whatever. If you would prefer a more hippie-friendly option, consider $24 "Double Love Body Scrub with Himalayan Salt & Organic Lavender Essential Oils", which I have been wanting to try since last summer. I mean, come on, it's pink! But back to the Trader Joe's version...

Terrible packaging. No matter how hard you press, the plastic lid will not click shut. Although it stays down most of the time, moisture is never sealed out. Definitely a flaw for a product that sits next to the bathtub. Luckily, the scrub itself is pretty awesome! It smells lovely and has many uses. The salt is too rough to use on your face, but just right for body exfoliation, assuming that you want to moisturize and exfoliate at the same time, because the oil makes that happen. This is a very oily product in general (ingredients list here), and the tub will get slick, so be careful! I like to use the scrub on my feet, which are very rough and need more TLC than I give them. (I bet you're glad to know that about my feet.) I also enjoy dropping a scoop or two into a hot bath--the scent experience is luxurious, and my skin feels uber-soft when I get out.

Okay, that's all I have to say. You are now informed.

Turn-Of-The-Century Surprise Chairs

My mom sent our little armchairs away to be reupholstered. The stitches were popping out and the seats sagged. Recently the chairs returned, much plumper and firmer than they've been at any point in my memory. The guy who did the work, a nice older man with a soft Irish accent, told us that our chairs are special. They're more than a hundred years old and stuffed with horsehair, a material that became valuable while I wasn't looking. My parents got them as hand-me-downs from miscellaneous family members (they were vague on that point).

We've always loved these armchairs because they're smaller than what you typically see in furniture stores, and absolutely perfect for curling up with a book and a mug of tea (one of my favorite pastimes). Apparently they also bestow some dubious historical significance on our living room! Even your own possessions can surprise you.

[Collage background via Cornell University Library on Flickr.]

Mostly Pastel Ice-Cream Living Room

Purely frivolous escapism, inspired by this yummy throw pillow! The rest of the product details can be viewed on Polyvore. Now I'm going to engage in a much less glamorous home-related activity: unloading the dishwasher.

Yard Pottery

This empty pot sits on the outer edge of my neighbor's garden. The chain-link shadows fall on it beautifully.

// $74.95 //

// $20.73 //

// $35 //

// $13 //

Yellow Chairs

Two Yellow Chairs by Ana Frois: encountered on Facebook and for sale on Society6. Would you like a yellow chair of your own? I've got ya covered:

// $35 //

// $706.28 //

Previous post with a similar color palette: "Overcast Sunshine".

Cottages & El Call

// print: $35 // stuffy: $10 //

Cute little houses: my favorite! I would especially like a squishy one for my very own. Maybe I will replicate that personally. After all, I haven't touched the sewing machine in a while...

// Monty Python's And Now For Something Completely Different //

In keeping with the picture above, I want to move to a not-very-related topic: "The Spanish government recently announced an official fast-track path to citizenship for any individual who is Jewish and whose ancestors were expelled from Spain during the inquisition-related dislocation of Spanish Jews in 1492." Quote from a 2014 study by Joshua Weitz. The rest of the report is about genetics, an interesting subject, but that opening is what truly intrigues me. Spain's apologetic gesture seems to reveal a particular perspective on how a nation becomes home to a certain kind of person. As a pro-multiculture American who was raised in a very diverse part of California, I find it somewhat puzzling that birth would determine one's entitlement to a country. And yet the conventional idea of a home is indeed the space and context into which one was born. Well, I do approve of Spain's deference to the descendants of Jewish communities forced into further diaspora.



The Jewish Quarter in Barcelona; photo by David Berkowitz.

Rough Growth

Odd creations from Jo Boyer Ceramics: very much like sea creatures crossed with wood burls. They are called "wall pods". Obviously I want one, to keep as a strange and silent pet.