notebook (111-2) {vintage wallpaper musings}

"i doubt it i will open it. mother slid it to me, but i think it was the cruellest thing. its presence sets my mind off. i prefer the late afternoon haze to anything else that would lessen my soothing wódka state.
of course now, i think of angela, how could i not, she chose the wallpaper. not consciously. she just hollered at all the other patterns. when they took angela away, i turned my back to the walls forever, prefered the ceiling. mother persisted, put the flowered paper up. i have hated it since.
and now the notebook. notes on angela.
on the night stand my half empty glass wavers."
woolf, 19/01/11

♥ hellóó-óó giveaway draw ♥

♣ '...the hip, hip a hop, and you don't stop.... ' ♣

that just popped up
from nowhere seemingly,
as i was writing all these names down for the ♥ draw.
i had me a good time.
son joined in on 'say whààààat?',
or was it at 'a saying on 'n 'n on 'n on on 'n on '?
... i mean?
we had a ball!

♣ doesn't it want to make you move a little? ♣

and now....
for the winnerzzzzzzzz...
[that's right! leave that tune on!]
a whole lot of shakin' goin' on.....

n° 1.....

n° 2 .....

n° 3 ....

now i have to be honest, i'm just a little bit sorry i can't send a heart to each and every single one of you's. do not fret, do not despair however.... 't won't stay with just one giveaway. fresh boxes to unwrap have arrived in the new, old house, and i feel there's more to come and sent away, my dears... now those lucky winners? send me your address in reply. and ♥

what i saw

if i were to tell you that on yesterday's thrifting thrall i gathered a (made in england) condiments stand in aqua blue, a seventies ochre yellow hourglass shaped ceramic salt shaker, three tiny etuis for pens, a mirror and teeny weeny non pareil stuff (such as earplugs, perhaps?), 12 balls of faded colours yarn, a valentine illustrated mug, a kitchen filet knife, a robust steel vintage cellotape dispenser in speckled aqua blue, an off white ceramic fish mould (see header), and thirteen vintage books, then i am asking a lot of your imagination, ain't i? all of the above is true.

but what did make my heart beat fast like a steamtrain on full speed, what made my head spin with joy, what really stopped my breath instantaneously, was

a 1962 booklet on learning young children how to write the alphabet, by THE LADYBIRD. when before someone else out there showed such a find, i was convinced i would never thrift anything valuable as that. and now it has happened, can cross that one of my list.

what to do with it? oh, so many ideas have already crossed my mind, cutting it up definitely not one of them. sophie's flea market finds now open. 

oh, and hello? tonight the draw of the valentine heart winnerz. son is warming his hands as we speak. keep your eyes peeled and your heart open, i'd suggest. (you may even still enter - giveaway closes at 6 pm CET - getting confused? no worries, me too!)

111 (ed.)

editor's note - a few people reacted nostalgically to the layers of wallpaper i unearth, while renovating. i admit moods, words, feelings flow through me, as i'm peeling back the years from those walls. who looked at the wallpaper, who put it up? were the people living in these rooms nice, did they care? what moved people to change the wallpaper?  the consideration most provoked in me : these people were mortal, like me. one day someone else will peel off my layer.
i have been intrigued by these mindflows, and have decided to call back to life my cherished 111 label i abandoned when i switched from blogging in my mother tongue to writing in english. [i quietly started on 111 with tree]. i will now step into a few wallpaper adventures over the next couple of days. where 111 comes in... one needs to count one's blessings (or one's words) .... have fun while raking through my mortal mind.

title to this one escapes me {renov #16}

i was thinking, as both my brothers and their respective wifes unloaded four carloads of boxes and things; it's been a while since i've stood on the unloading quay. and it's all yet another event that is now going to sit and wait. you see. much to your surprise maybe, i have no downstairs floor yet. we live on the second floor, and use the middle floor for pivoting around ourselves. it is a balanced fact that these exercises as much lead to disaster as to delight, but let's stick to the latter.
i was wondering, if i translated this boxing pattern to a graphic design, it might be a hit! since i've outgrown the pattern through overload, i might as well squeeze something cheerful out of it? and if i just have a squint at all that has freshly arrived, it might not actually be here (to be moved up and outside and wherever it can go, when the downstairs concrete floor will be poured, from entrance hall to back garden steps, included. somewhere in may)!
you see. that's where i'm at. i've finally managed to clear out and clean up my temporary sleeping area (notice i'm not speaking of bedroom - i am still stripping and plastering that one - more mystery on wallpaper coming soon). 
but i am of course overwhelmed by the rediscovery of these. gee, my fingers are itching. this renovbusiness ain't over yet. as sister-in-law 1 pointed out 'consider this : your life will be so different in twelve months time!', to which sister-in-law 2 nodded vehemently, 'tis one way of keeping the spirits up. darlings!

corner view ≈ my favourite painter

view from my bedroom window as a child
light is my muse. or rather, my muse is light. i shall die if i have to live without. unconsciencely, subconsciencely, i take to the light. 

capturing early evening light, 2008
that's why my visit to a 2004 exhibition at the london tate modern prooved to be a landmark. i had dreamed about his paintings so so often. many a postcard i had fingered, to no particular avail. 

view from train, early evening, 2008
now, i was going to walk amongst his light, room after room, tableau after tableau. i buzzed with a hum i didn't shake for hours. 

light on white flower, 2007
i have never been to new england, but that afternoon in sunny london, i was there. heart. and bones. enthralled, to finally witness mr. edward hopper's paintings, seperated just a few inches from the master's jewels of light. yes, i let security tell me off twice for standing too close. no, i didn't feel shame. [theresa's theme for the week, jane's corner view, as ever.]

courtesy of ibiblio
if you haven't already, why don't you enter the draw of the cards hearts - it's a GIVEAWAY!


c'est comme ça. forty eight candles push and shove, till a few stomp off, making me younger than i really am. voila. and i'm still giving it away too.

paris when it drizzles

in europe one has got to be lucky with the weather, if one is traveling in winter. putting my finger on a paris map is easy peasy, a talk to the weather gods nigh to impossible. therefore i found myself driven by rain, drizzle and ice cold wind. the ride into the 16th arrondissement ran smoothly enough. turning my notes up and down, and trying to hold them straight while working the camera (you've got it), i found myself led from the rue de l'assomption onto porte d'auteuil. below you find what happened next, and what all i saw. if you feel like it, then walk along with me. here you find the chronological walk, as always.  
et c'est parti, mon kiki.

hector guimard designed his castel béranger in 1897, by sarcasts called le castel dérangé
the assymetrical entrance to castel béranger
guimard built textiles baron mezzara his cute little dwellings, in 1910
my kinda art deco design, on avenue du recteur poincaré

my kinda lunch at café poussin, rue poussin
one of many (141!) hector guimard entrances, here to métro michel-ange-auteuil
crossing le boulevard saint michel
shakespeare and company bookshop, rue de la bûcherie
the seine, quai de la tournelle
p'tit magasin sur l'ile saint louis
salon de thé, run by a charming old man displaying a flamboyant flair
my little coffee table, near the window, next the heater
my gigantic piece of tarte au citron
my other favourites, les macarons de paris
also, still  
giving it away! ♥

the promise

i kind of almost stepped right into the painting with my foot. while i was wondering whether the reproduction was any good, i picked up the frame and held it closer to my eye. i rubbed my fingertops against the canvas. not a photocopy, some real painting had been going on here. it was dark in the thrift shop, but the january sales were still on (of course), and i took the lady in situ home. i held her close to my heart as i was buying celery, apple and radish on the fresh market. then i bumped into a real life woman i hadn't seen for a long time. we saluted. i got acquainted again to her daughter, whom i hadn't seen for eighteen years.

i drifted home. i had my lunch in front of episod one to UPSTAIRS, DOWNSTAIRS, anno pre-world war II. then i sat myself down to do my e-mails, and i remembered. who was she? i picked her up from off the bathroom floor where she lay patiently waiting, and googled around a bit. i quickly discovered she was lady henri van de velde-sèthe, painted by theo van rysselberghe. i smiled now, adjusted a bit of flaked off paint at the top, and promised her a place under a soft spotlight, in my bedroom to be.
well, we all got to bribe ourselves with something, in order to get things done by our own hands, don't we? today madame van de velde did just that. ☻ more thrifting going on over at sophie's! ♥ also, GIVEWAY still running, i entice you.

off to paris for the day

GIVEAWAY still running....

corner view ≈ organic form

german-austrian-american scientist karl bühler established the aha!-erlebnis in 1907. it is a squeal, no doubt by every single one of us, uttered at some stage in our lives. to me it came just the other day, as i observed myself doodling a non defined shape on a blank page in a new diary. with a little shock i realized that throughout my life, i had always been extremely drawn to squares. the sketchbook experience however, allowed free form to enter my everyday. that which i didn't always take kindly to, now felt quite comfortable. in order words, i had welcomed organic form. what had changed, i wondered?

old school, but soon to be further explored?
intrigued, i look up some of bühler’s backgrounds, for i’m fishing for a clue. i stumble upon an acoustic instrument used by the scientist in his experiments in the clover field of language sciences. he calls the instrument an organon. does it ring a bell? actually, it could ring many, for organon, orgonon, orgone, orgasm even all carry interesting connotations in scientific and philosophical areas. let the lady in the video at least guide you back to your subconscience.

the bespoke orgonon (relating to A BOOK OF DREAMS, written by peter reich, son to 1950's psycho-analyst wilhelm, who managed to get himself dramatically arrested over supposedly rainmaking machinery, which then prompted kate bush to write her hit song cloudbusting, all while depicting the original story into her videoclip) steals a second aha! from me. insight, magic and intention all roll into one. is it any wonder i feel a truely contented organic form by it?☻
truthfully, it was at this very point i contacted theresa, host for jane's weekly corner view. the rest is history. [if you haven't already, then do enter the organic form GIVEAWAY. most welcome!]

♥ valentino giveaway ♥

coming closer to the day mister valentine supposedly takes our breath away... i could not resist mending a couple hearts myself. well, three exactly.

hot off the crochet hook, these hearts have a two colour toned front and back, just like a real heart! would you like one sent to you, in time for mr. valentine? then do drop me a ♥ comment line, and you will enter the draw.

i'm making three hearts beat faster, so three chances out there for grabbing a heart to get hooked on ... just start thinking where you could hang your heart!

to give all of you's a chance, giveaway will not close before sunday, january 30 th. son will innocently draw three heart diggers. do not hesitate. come out and play! ☻

in the papers today {renov # 15}

i had to pluck my courage up. you don't wanna know how good a briber i am. but if it means getting things done, i'm all for it. now, the morning started with stalling, until i shook myself back into consciousness. i started my sis-in-law's steammachine, waited for it to gurgle, and off i went. and can i say? i had such fun, because

all sorts came outta woodwork! all dusted and done i can offer you this, 

pretty quick my windows got all steamed up!

do you remember the butterfly prints from when we were all in primary school, kindergarten even? 

i pulled at wall paper and this vintage colour came off, double sided... such a treat! 

would you look at the hasard of this? two hearts together? this must be a sign!  bord&butik will agree... ☻

on this one i need your imagination... do you remember whistler's mother? if not by bean, then perhaps from its original? i lay flat on my stomach to shoot this one. squint through your 'lashes, try and find her, she's there (with alot of imagination i agree, but if you see what i mean, i was reminded of a lady in white, sitting patiently waiting on a stool, probably for me to finish)! 

so this is how i kept my steamy saturday interesting! now, roll on for distraction, sherlock! ☻more thrifting going on over at sophie's!