All posts filed under: series

Recharge, Reboot, Reset

A fresh start.   This will be a short one, my friends.  Yes, it does seem rather inadequate given that I’ve been silent and missing for a month.  But change is a-foot.  In my heart.  Within the family.  On the blog.  And that change has not only opened my eyes to an expanded level of awareness, it has also aided me in concluding how I am meant to continue on this writing journey. WE ALL NEED A RESET BUTTON Which is not a bad thing. Starting from scratch can be good. I’m certain many would concur that we all need to use that reset button now and again.  When time seems to pass ever. so. very. slowly.  When everything seems tried and tested, done and done.  When one begins to turn a deaf ear to the crisp rustle of turning pages.  And when the sight of lightning streaking across the sky no longer brings about a sigh of contentment and pleasure.  Well, those are my personal indicators, yours may very well be much different but …

An Unsteady Flicker

Staying inspired. Keeping the flame burning.   I was at mass last Sunday morning, for Easter (the sheer fact it’s taken me over a week to churn out this story should hint at what I’m going to be sharing today), and I somewhat tuned out when the priest began his homily.  I do that sometimes a lot.  Not a very Catholic act but certainly very human.  As he was speaking, I asked myself how someone like Father Troy could remain so passionate and enthusiastic about being a priest.  About his faith.  About saying mass. I mean, at the end of the day, priesthood is still a job.  And with any and every profession, we all fall into a slump every now and again.  Into mental fatigue.  We get jaded and disinterested.  And that fire under our asses goes out. And then all of a sudden, his words pierced through my reverie, “You fall in love with Christ all over again each and every single day.  That’s how you keep things exciting.  And interesting.” NO, THIS …

The Fab 40s Are Princesses For A Day

Of fairytales and princes. Of happily ever afters (or not).   I remember my very first cinematic encounter with an official Disney princess.  Her name was Snow White and the year was 1980.  Throughout the music (who could forget that high pitched voice) and all that animation, one thing stuck in my head.  That I was certainly not going to lay around like a helpless damsel in distress, waiting for my prince to come and set me free.  That I’d rather don my own suit of armour, and rescue myself. I CAN SLAY MY OWN DRAGONS, YO As you’d probably surmise, I have no love for Snow White.  In face, her shrill vocal chords set me on edge and I’m instantly overcome by an animalistic urge to pummel.  Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty too are on my hit list of never-evers. God help me should the day come that I can no longer fight my own battles. Shudder.  Just shoot me and put me out of my misery when that moment arrives. Then came Ariel in …

The Fab 40s Create Pop Art

Drawn from popular culture. Celebrating mundane, everyday things.   Pop Art, that is, lauding commonplace objects and people, seeking to elevate these seemingly nondescript things to the level of fine art.  Personally, I wouldn’t put “pop” and “fine” within the same sentence should it pertain to the various categories of art but I’d be the last person to deny how strong an impact the pop art movement has had on fashion and style. A G R E E D ? Campbell’s Soup Cans. Disney’s mighty Mickey Mouse. MISS NORMA JEAN BAKER All these, be they hand-painted or screen-printed, are universally recognisable as juggernauts of the pop art culture.  And what’s particularly interesting to note is that whilst abstract expressionists favoured visually depicting their tormented souls upon canvas, pop artists searched for traces of that very same trauma in the commercial world of advertising, cartoons, and popular imagery at large. To be perfectly honest, I found this challenge quite, well, challenging (gah, Sam, I tossed and turned for quite a few nights, that I did). Aside …

My New York Moment(s)

New York, New York. There’s something about you.   So at the time of writing, I’ve been home from New York Fashion Week for precisely slightly over a week.  I spent survived 6 days in the city during one of its most crazy times.  New York Fashion Week.  Ahhh.  What an experience.  There was the good, the not so good, and the downright ugly.  When things were good, they were very good.  The not so good wasn’t too detrimental, nothing a bruised ego couldn’t recover from.  But when they were ugly, they were really ugly which, thankfully, were few and far between. Over the next few weeks, I’ll be sharing all my New York Fashion Week tales with you.  Hopefully they won’t bore you too much, and yes, expect a gallery of those mandatory “what I wore to NYFW” photos, whilst regaling how I speed-changed my way in between shows!!! G R I N But today is not about that. Today, we’re talking about Project Sister Act.  You know, that monthly gig wherein five to …