Friday, January 28, 2011

Thursday, January 27, 2011

White Appears in "Seeing The Light."

Seriously. Now you are just showing off.
I get that you need space. I get that we are both going to see other people. But come on, play fair. Fabulousness is not fair.
Just so you know, you have always been my light.


ps. Marry me?
pps. Ignore that.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Beautiful Jewelry, Morning Coffee, Dubious Thoughts on White

I'll take your word for it on that early morning light thing. Sounds lovely. The light, I mean, not so much the early morning. I'm really a late morning kind of gal.

I gotta say, that lace sterling ring, the one with a wink of sapphire, looks fantastic with a cup of coffee. Is it the coffee that makes my morning bright, or the quiet sparkle laughing from woven waves of sterling silver? Added bonus, sapphire and silver don't stain. Sparkly and practical.

How's ubiquity treating you? Betty White. Shawn White. White lines. White Knuckles. The White Stripes. Teeth that Are Too White. White Fang. White Russian. Plain White T's. Snow White. White House. Knight on a White Horse. Little White Lies We Tell Our Mothers. White Noise. White Out.


Do you really have time for us? For me? My eye wanders. To green maybe. To pink perhaps.


Sunday, January 23, 2011

A Postcard to Ann from White


Don’t over think it. Silver is good company, a great dancer. Smooth so as to be soft. Brash to the eye. Warm to the touch. But I’m not one to be tied down. And frankly, neither should you.

Just a quick note. Loads to do you know. Just loads. Everything frothy and milky and creamy. Much that is clear and brilliant and vivid. Quite a few early mornings dappled in winter’s fragile morning lights. And any number of satins, coconuts, ivory, seashells, vanillas, and fresh starts.

I saw this and thought of you. Hard to describe. Easy to love.



Golden Flower Necklace:

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Ann sends White just a quick note. Just a hopeful hello.


Why do we let dry cleaning bills come between us? It’s silly really. I don’t know why I make myself so crazy. By the way. I saw you with hand-wrought silver the other night. You looked great. Together. You looked great together.

I see shades of silver in you. Your both luxurious. Reflective. A shared luminosity. A joyous sophistication. Lovely.

Is it serious? Wait. Don’t answer that.

Anyway. I would love to see more of you. Perhaps both you and silver together. I surprise myself. You bring that out in me, surprises.



PS. Grass stains. Really. I blush. And laugh.

For the lace ring:

Friday, January 21, 2011

The Correspondence Continues


We’ve had some good times. Great times. Haven’t we? No, I don’t think I made you look fat. And, no, when the sun shone through it was a hint not a slide show. And, yes, grass is impossible to get out but he was worth it wasn’t he? And yes, those pearls are still great with everything.

I’ve grown up. I’m different now. You’re different now. We’re past all that shiny, summer only, tan required. I’ve embraced my off-ness, my slight imperfections, my texture and tone. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good wedding. But a softy draped linen sweater. A perfectly tailored cotton shirt. A pearl so smooth and yielding that it fuses shades of ash, wheat, smoke, and lavender. This is who I am. This is me.

I’m a risk worth taking. Don’t save me. Enjoy. Who knows, tomorrow there might be chocolate, or wine, or (hopefully) more grass.



Thursday, January 20, 2011

A Love Letter to White

My dearest White,

You know how much I care about you, right? I love your elegance. Your gentle creams, your haughty ivories. Quiet refinement in a storm of noisy color. Remember my wedding? My good pearls? No one knows you like I do White.

It’s me. I know it’s me. I still remember when I first saw you, years ago, in all your shinny, patent leather glory. You were irresistible. My mom said you weren’t practical. She said not to play with you after Labor Day. You were good for a summer fling, or a wedding. Too much work, she said. Not a color to settle down with. Not a pigment to build a wardrobe around. You have to admit, White, you have a “take off your shoes,” “don’t sit there,” “clear drinks only” kind of way about you. It can be hard to love you.

But, if I’m honest White, I crave your company. You are so much more than the walls of my first apartment. Layered in all your various iterations, you are striking yet soft, brilliant yet subtle. Linen. Oatmeal. Alabaster. Sand. Pearl. Smoke. Mist. Snow. My breath on a cold day.

Shall we stay together you and I? Shall I wrap myself in your pearls and wonder why we ever argued and grew impatient waiting for a rare, is-it-a-special-enough-occasion kind of day? Shall I marvel at your ability to make a statement with quiet dignity and effortless sophistication? Shall we grow old together, you and I? Celebrating life’s nuance, its texture, its imperfection, and its subtle beauty.


For the pearl necklace