Friday, June 24, 2011

A Propensity to Pine





































During the Summer I find it unusually difficult to get anything done, 
mostly because I find myself lost in dreams of all kinds; day dreams, 
dreams that come in a deep sleep, dreams from which I am sad to awake.
I'd rather design costumes in my dreams than execute them in real life 
& I'd rather put to practice the choreography that comes in the night during
a performance than during rehearsal. I can't seem to overcome lackadaisical
tendencies in order to become productive. This is no surprise, I've always 
been this way during Summer. The heat gives me only the desire to submerge
myself in cool waters, to quench my thirst with tart lemonade, and to laze
around in cool baths. 

Summer + Jolie = A propensity to pine for my aspirations.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

{ Taffeta, chocolate, and Lady Borgia}


After having a week off from the world of work, this day is designated
to the art of costuming. On the burlesque dancer's work table it's quite
standard to find tufts of tulle tucked beneath waves of shimmering silk,
bundles of thread, taffeta, chiffon. And amongst the array of shining
silver snaps, sparkling indigo rhinestones, and leopard panels you
will surely find a cocktail and bonbons (for purposes of sanity.) These
little accoutrements of sanity are something I learned from my dear
Lady Borgia, the woman who took me under her wing five years ago
and taught me not only the sewing skills every burlesque dancer 
should know. From her I learned the necessity of a crisp bar of
chocolate, a fresh cocktail, and a cool breeze blowing through the
windows.
 

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

{the soft sweet, and delicate things become even softer, sweeter, and more delicate}



Isn't it splendid how on particularly difficult and rough days
                                 the soft sweet, and delicate things become even softer, sweeter,  
                                and more delicate? After you feel as if you are worn to the bone
what is more perfect than the smooth creaminess of fresh berry
ice cream? What could be more comforting than the plush smoosh
of feathers in a pillow as you lay your head down? A garden of roses
is filled with velvet petals, curling with delicacy and tenderness.
A fresh breeze blowing through an open window, the carefree splash
of water on thirsty skin, the caress of pink cotton towels hugging you.
It all happens as if it was designed to say, "It's okay. You're okay."