daily beautiful things.

{image via}

i have mentioned my beautiful blonde friend neena a few times in the past, and how she has followed her dreams to toronto where she has fully blossomed into a stellar hair & makeup artist, and now an expert for 'garnier' -- i know, she's fucking unreal. i am honestly so proud of this girl, i get tears in my eyes and almost pee myself anytime i see something she has created -- in print, ad, and more and more as of late, on tv! she is a real life pro, oozing with coolness, confidence in what she is explaining, and the exact same uniqueness that made me fall in love with her the moment i laid eyes on her -- which i'll have you know was while performing as the lead in a play in the 12th grade. she sings, she dances a mean jazz square, she's hilarious, and she could make "sloth" from 'the goonies' look like james fucking franco. i adore this girl and could squeeze her tiny body until every last perfectly manicured nail popped right off her talented little hands.

 because i love being able to show off my friends, i wanted to share some of her recent work when she was asked to style a few of the 'much music' vj's. the video below was my favourite: a) because this phoebe broad is adorable and i love the way neena styles her short hurr and b) because she mentions a few tips & tits that i never knew before for styling your hair to get the best results. if you want to watch all of the videos, you can follow this link and scroll to the bottom. daily beautiful things friends.

time stands still.

time stands still

best in moments

that look suspiciously

like ordinary life.

-- brian andreas.

currently making me happiest.

diddlin' around with valentine's day place setting options : pink hyacinths in blue bottles.

fireplace mantle decorated with love.

homemade chocolate chip cookies in a vintage rose print tin for girl's night.

a kiss for windy.

through opa's camera: sweet nostalgia.

last summer i chatted about inheriting my opa's camera and how i am in love with the nostalgia of it all. it's the way i try not to move around the order his things are tucked into his camera bag, or how it feels to hold the camera to my cheek and look through the view finder. for me, it's a way to be closer to him -- his camera is a connection we have to each other we never knew was there when he was still here, and although i can't go back and live that out with him, i can move forward with much intention.

along with his camera and accessories, my dad gave a me a cd filled with a bunch of opa's slides that my uncle had uploaded and copied for him. opa was always so good at developing his film and getting it organized into what seemed like thousands of albums, which i would then scatter all around me while visiting, and park my ass in front of the wall unit to look through them. they would tell stories of their trips to holland, washington and myrtle beach, and the time my dad pissed all over a cannon while having his photo taken on another family vacation -- it's like the photos would bring them right back to that moment, and they would laugh, and i would wish i could have been there.

that's the thing about photos; they can take you anywhere you want to go. they bring you back to that very moment and make you feel, if only a fraction, as you did in that space and time, and as i flipped through the images of opa's slides, i realized how he easily captured those oh-so-special moments. you didn't have to be physically be there to see and feel what it was like to be right then and there -- laying in the warm sun on the front yard on a summer day, or oma feeling beautiful enough in pearls and a pretty dress to want her picture taken (my favourite picture of oma ever, which i plan on printing off and framing). i also couldn't help but notice that he had a few go-to subjects that made up most of his images: his kids, his prized possessions like their home and cars, and of course, my oma. evident by his photos he loooooved to photograph my oma, and she loved being on the other side of his lens just as much. and i can't tell you how romantic i think that is.

lost & found.

for the two years leading up to when paulie proposed, i faithfully grew my hair out like it was the be-all and end-all -- my hair and i would be prepared for when that kid finally popped the question if it was the last thing i did. when i finally accepted it might never happen, i sat in my friend lindsay's salon chair and let her cut my hair off until i looked like a boy. 2 weeks later, that fucker proposed. now, i'm not sure if it was out of spite, or done subconsciously (or maybe a little bit of both) but it was pretty clear to me that a short cut was what made him happiest (natalie portman or shannyn sossamon with a pixie gives him chub), so you know what i did next? grew that shit out for the wedding. 

now we're married and neither of us is going anywhere -- with no 'big days' to prepare myself for, or reasons to (or not to) cut my hair, i'm a free bird and can do with my coiffe as i please. so i have gone and done what any good wife would do for their man, and went right back to that same cut he loved enough to propose to. happening in stages, my hair went from tit length, to chin length, to cheek length and now i'm hovering somewhere around pubes length -- that's right, i have a head of ungroomed pubes, and paulie has never called me cute more than he has in the last week. whether i'm in full makeup, dressed for a party, or wearing his track pants and t shirt with nothing but chapstick on, he is a happy little boy, and i'm left trying to find myself again.

it's amazing how something like hair can change so much about the way you feel about yourself. i've always been the kind of girl who likes to experiment with cut, colour and style...hell i've been platinum blonde, brunette, a red head and somewhere in between all those things at once. it's been long, short, asymmetrical, and who could forget the time i had my friend neena spend three days  braiding every last strand of it into 25 packages of fake hair, only to have my father cut it off my head within four days because i had developed a migraine that was threatening my vision -- long story short, i've been everything but bald.

as i near the end of my 20's (i just puked in my mouth a little bit) i am finding myself trying to do just that; find myself. sometimes i think i have a firm handle on who i am and what i want my image to portray, while other times i can spend far too long to admit in front of the mirror, adjusting and readjusting the way i look, only to walk away more lost than i was to start. i know that every girl (and most likely boy) has had this problem at some point, so indecisive, so unsure, i feel like my acne ridden, 84 pound, breastless, pre-pubescent self.  i've always held onto the thought that as i get older, i will became more and more confident in myself, more self-aware, and i know i will learn to love and accept the way i look, and embrace it to the fullest, enormous pisces features and all. that's not to say i'm not happy with myself now, i just know those looming 30's will bring with them a new found appreciation for the girl i am and the girl my husband is in love with -- 
right down to the very last pube on my head.