roses poster by debbie carlos

I am incredibly drawn to this new roses poster by Debbie Carlos, who has become well known for her striking large format halftone photographic prints and their simple, quiet aesthetic. Although a selection of her photographs are also available in colour, this is the first poster printed in greyscale on colour paper, producing a soft, luminous, and richly textured graphic effect. Available in pink or green, the images are strangely inviting and visually arresting, almost beckoning one to enter into a dark, night-time garden; but they are also remarkingly and unusually beautiful. I am still in awe and can't decide which colour I like best. 

View and purchase the poster here. 

You can also view a lovely video promoting the poster and Debbie's introduction of colour into her monochromatic work here, produced in collaboration with Studio in the Sun.

from August to Autumn

I had planned to post photos of the post-wedding holiday we spent at a rustic Northern Ontario camp in August immediately upon returning home to newly married life. I had planned to share our adventures, all the goodness that happened in our lives, all the new and wonderful things I had learned and discovered. But then life happened and we became so incredibly busy as summer winded down and autumn slowly crept in.

But I still want to share those photos and the moments and moods they capture. And I think today, the last day of summer, is the perfect day to do so. I suppose in a fitting way, this is my farewell to that favourite season as we welcome a new one: to long summer days and lazy afternoons; to sultry heat and sweaty, sunkissed skin; to casual evenings relaxing on the balcony and drinking beer; to driving down country roads with the windows down; to biking to pick up our fresh CSA baskets; to the month that contained all the love in the world as it saw our family and friends gather to witness Andrew and I share our vows; to the camp I love and know so intimately, having spent my childhood summers there, and that I am lucky enough to return to every year with my dad.

And yet, the week of our vacation up North was not at all characterisitc of summer. It was cold and rainy, with the strongest winds and biggest waves I have ever witnessed at this time of year, making for a particular kind of gloominess. But it was perfect. It was exactly what we needed to relax and recover from all the work and energy we put into making the wedding happen. We wrapped ourselves up in layers of clothing to bear the weather outside and nestled inside by the fire, warming our spirits with endless glasses of wine and long conversations. Andrew passed long hours fishing at the edge of the dock and I curled up reading and slipping in and out of afternoon naps.

All around us, something about the soft, grey light contrasted against the dark greens of the Boreal Forest and golden reds of the pine and cedar was perfectly seemless.

It was as if the seasons were already turning.  

the honeycomb will taste sweeter coming from my hand

A Celtic Wedding Pledge

You cannot possess me, for I belong to myself
But while we both wish it, I give you that which is mine to give

You cannot command me, for I am a free person
But I shall serve you in those ways you require,
And the honeycomb will taste sweeter coming from my hand

I pledge to you that yours will be the name I cry aloud in the night
And the eyes into which I smile in the morning

I pledge to you the first bite of my meat and the first drink from my cup
I pledge to you my living and my dying, each equally in your care

I shall be a shield for your back and you for mine
I shall not slander you, nor you me

I shall honour you above all others,
And tell no strangers our grievances

This is my wedding vow to you
This is a marriage of equals

Nearly two weeks ago, on 04 August 2012, I married the love of my life. He is the sweetest, most loving, honest, sensitive, and passionate (not to mention rugged & manly!) person I know; the man who has taught me what it means to truly love and whom before meeting I never believed in the institution of marriage. So much can change when you find the right person, or in my case, when he finds you and waits ever-so patiently because he knows you are worth waiting for.

Everything about the day was truly wonderful and came together perfectly: the sense of history, family, and community; the rustic, outdoor setting and natural elements; the blue skies and sweltering afternoon heat, which is exactly the kind of sultry weather I love best; all the homegrown, vintage, beautiful details, even if we did forget to photograph and capture so many of them, precisely because what stood out the most was the overwhelming love and joy that filled the entire day—from family and friends gathering together in the morning to help us set up, write on chalkboards, hang handmade paper globes in the black walnut tree, and lay out endless displays of green and white hydrangeas, to the intimate, personalized ceremony, to all the laughter and merriment, and the final group of closest friends and family who gathered in the backyard until nearly 5 o’clock in the morning because no one wanted the celebration to end. An entire community and their unending acts of kindness came together to make our wedding happen. It all felt exactly as it should, and there we were, holding hands and expressing our deepest love in the middle of it. 

I can't believe I get to grow old with him. 

a shop update: endless summer

one-of-a-kind necklaces featuring vintage Italian porcelain watercolour tie dye & metallic painted wood beads on silk cord.

because sometimes, you just don't want summer to end.


here and here.

at the river's edge

I grew up in the City of Lakes, but ever since I first left home for University almost ten years ago, I have moved again and again to river cities and towns. While I deeply miss being immediately surrounded by so many freshwater lakes, I have learned to embrace river communities & cultures, which have a charm of their own different from that of lakes. This weekend we explored the shores of the Ottawa River close to where we live in Laurentian Valley. Most of the waterfront within walking distance here is private property, but we found an easily accessible stretch of what seems to be Crown land. The water level is low this year, exposing enough of the muddy and rocky shores to walk along with Glasgow, who not surprisingly spent most of his time in the water. The breeze off the water was perfectly refreshing and as we gazed out at, listened to, and breathed in the sights, sounds, and scents of the river, I found my thoughts silenced and absorbed by its humbling currents and underwater mysteries. It was pretty close to perfect.

these days

I haven't had much of a presence here lately. So much going back and forth between the city & and the country, wedding planning (some details of which I plan to share here soon - August 4th is fast approaching!), and preparing for the final move to Laurentian Valley to be with Andrew full-time, which we accomplished last weekend and was nothing short of epic. I have come to accept that moving plans never go as planned and was surprisingly relaxed (almost) the whole time. I think I have been successfully taking all the wisdom and advice from Meg Keene's most wonderful and endearing book, A Pracitcal Wedding, and applying it to other areas of my life. I have been actively practicing my wedding Zen and it has truly helped me to let go of all the little things, wedding-related or otherwise. I feel the most amazing lightness and the least stress I have felt in a long time.

Amidst all the craziness, I have still found time to savour the small moments and delicacies, from summer skies, gin & tonics, and Quebec's culinary delights to gardens both old & new.

And this. 

wishing you & yours a wonderful weekend. 

xo, 

sara

the order of things: lepidoptera

1. Pink and Mocha Moths by Amber Alexander
2.  Wings, original watercolour painting by Michelle of United Thread


As much as I might be embarrassed to admit this, I have been dealing with a clothes moth infestation all week. Not my proudest moment, to be sure, but one that has not only made me realize that this can easily happen to anyone, especially purveyors of vintage and second-hand wares (which I think was the source of my particular infestation), but has also made me reflect on these delicate little winged creatures and those with whom they share a family. I really am the perfect victim. I own A LOT of wool, much of which is fine merino wool and seemingly these little pests' preferred choice for spinning their silk cocoons and sustaining their livelihood. Almost as a way of consoling my grief (I have shed more than a few tears and have had a couple of breakdown moments over losing some of my most cherished woolen possessions, while stubbornly trying to save others), easing my stress, and reminding myself that there is beauty to all forms of life, I have hunted and gathered some moth- and butterfly-inspired favourites. It is amazing how various species of the same order can be so radically different, at once visually captivating and magical but also deeply devastating. Coincidentally, almost every time I step out onto the balcony to shake out a moth-infected clothing article, I am visited by a friendly monarch butterfly, as if to apologize for the harm done to me by the clothes moths and to remind md that they are not all of the same kind. It is actually comforting in an odd but light-hearted way. So here is to you, Lepidoptera. 

3. A kind of hush, photograph by Irene Suchoki of Montreal-based Eye Poetry
4. Papillon by Elle Moss
5. Untitled photograph by Craig Schlewitz
6. Never too late print by Montreal's Eva Juliet

7. Moths letterpress print by Aardvark
8. Butterfly Collector, original pencil and watercolour drawing by Julianna Swaney
9. Moths, original gocoo print by Anna Ruby King

10. Moth origami lampshade in pink and white from Studio Snowpuppe
11. moths paper and wax strong mobile by Amy Ruppel
12. Matthew Williamson's DNA Butterfly printed silk-chiffon scarf

these days

it rained all week long in the city.
the kind of rain that soothes your body & soul,
that allows you to slow down and replenish.
to take notice of  the small and mundane things,
like thick raindrops streaming
and collecting on windows.
rainy days adorned with silk garments
and cherished jewels.
overcast skies and sombre moods made brighter
by the arrival of much-anticipated packages in the mail,
by diluted colours and whimsical florals,
and by the attention to detail.

///

you might have also noticed
the subtle but beauitfully crafted blog re-design,
for which i am indebted to
the lovely Ana of Blog Milk.
she is such a pleasure to work with
and her designs are the perfect balance
of artistry and a clean, minimalistic aesthetic.
i am only just settling in
and have some more personalizing yet to do,
but i feel like the precision
and soothing feel of this new space
will allow me to focus more on content. 


as always, i have some exciting plans.
so many ongoing projects
and always all at once.

///

hope your weekend is as wonderful as ever.


xo,

sara