End of summer blues

As you may have been (or probably didn't care about) noticing I haven't posted anything in forever. That can happen when finishing summer school algebra 2 overlaps with the start of 3 AP classes, chemistry and a couple weeks later 2 community colleges classes. Ok well the college classes are electives, but still, my free time has not been in abundance. But something that has are the end of summer blues. You know, that feeling, typically in the last super hot days of August, when the weather is just right for lovely evening walks, and you take a minute to look back at the past couple months and think, "WTF how did I waste all this wonderfulness!?!". Or at least, that's what happens to me. I've been very overwhelmed with my insane love for summer and all the good times that come with it: vacation (duh), constant consumption of ice-cream, my birthday, spending all day in the pool, travel, summer romance ;)... maybe. And now it's over, which is sad, but the nostalgia slap in the face makes you appreciate the season's greatness and can be sort of inspiring.
So the other day I let all my passion for summer twilight out: (also, please enjoy a couple shots from a test I found recently, I hope to have more from it soon)

 

Photographer: Rennie Solis. Model: Camila @ NEXT. 

A long missed lover beckoning you forward in time. With warm, welcoming arms, dark as the hot asphalt, and with all the sweetness of drippy ice-cream sandwiches. You would spend forever in young, lighthearted euphoria together. Running through sprinklers, staying up late, starring at the stars together. At these times the future looks infinitely bright and all things are possible. But all too soon, as is inevitable, you must part. Slowly, always checking over your shoulder to see how far they’ve gotten, to know if they’re really truly gone. You get caught up with life and all that lies ahead. And before you know it, if you’re lucky with a last wind whispered goodbye, just as four seasons ago, they’re gone.

Paris summer 2011 part 2

Promenade à Pompidou

Our first sightseeing venture was to the Centre Georges Pompidou. My mom usually tries to drag me to museums of all kinds, but I'm not all that tolerant of non art museums. I'm also particularly fond of impressionism, fauvism and other post-impressionist styles. And we're both big fans of Matisse and Miro. So this being the largest modern art museum in Europe, it was the perfect way to spend our afternoon. 

Crêpes on every corner!

L'île dans ma tête ( The island in my head)

Montmartre

Georges Braque La Ciotat Harbor 1906 

Georges Braque L’homme à la guitare 1914

Pablo Picasso Arlequin 1923

Georges Braque Viaduct at L'Estaque 1908

Vassily Kandinsky, Alte Stadt, 1902

Vassily Kandinsky Yellow-Red-Blue 1925

Larry Rivers, I like Olympia in Black Face, 1970

Random awesome cave you get to walk around in

Art overload

Picasso, Warhol, Miro, Warhol, cliche parisian photo, Klimt, Klimt, Matisse,  disturbing social commentary

I splurge on postcards, big spender that I am. 

Paris summer 2011 part 1

I was fortunate enough to spend this June and part of July in the city of lights/love/delightful little pastries. My agency had suggested that I try working in Paris, my mom has colleagues there, and she was going to go to Europe for work this summer anyway. So it all worked out beautifully. I must tell you that anything I say about the city is completely biased. From the moment I set foot there, it was love at first sight. The first time I went it was great, but the second, it was magic. If you ever get the chance to take a lights of Paris by night tour (or something like that) you too shall understand my passion. Or if 10 story department stores sound like heaven to you, they sure do to me. If I were a character in a movie I would probably be the assistant in The Devil Wears Prada who starves/almost kills herself to get nice clothes and go to Paris. It’s bursting with everything you could ask for: art, museums, architecture, food, fashion, history, culture and all kinds of beyond interesting people. This time I didn't get to do quite as much sightseeing as I would've liked, but it was wonderful anyway. We stayed in a cute little studio by canal Saint-Martin in the 10th arrondissement. Very lively picturesque neighborhood. I can't say I didn't get home sic. But other than chez moi, I don't think there's a better place to be. 

On my daily walk to the metro station. 

I can't tell you how much I love subways. Especially well organized ones. I love them almost as much as I love Paris (wow). Tell me it doesn't sound awesome to be able to go wherever you want, without having to worry about traffic, what you're doing to the environment, or your budget. Not to mention forgoing drivers ed. Call me a socialist (fyi: not an insult in France) but I think public transportation is pretty friggin great. It's a different lifestyle, one I think the French have mastered very nicely. But, if a Parisian absolutely must drive, they generally do in ity-bity, teenie-tiny, so small and funny looking that most Americans would laugh at, sized cars. Peugeots, Fiats, Citroens, you get the idea. No horrible gas guzzling Hummers and SUVs. Can you tell I disapprove of L.A.'s driving habits?

Maybe it's because not as many people get married in Europe. Maybe it's because we're all just weird. But my mom and me weren't the only ones waiting to see the bride and groom come out. When they finally did it just seemed a little more special, a little precious than back home. I feel like we, and the other strangers watching, left with warmed hearts. Happiness is contagious. 

My first foray into documenting street style. So cut me a little slack. I had to ask if I could take her picture in French! Evidently she understood me, but I subsequently turned red as tomato. 

Mommy and me at the market

My cool cheese guy

I know it looks like burned bread, or a rock, or a brick. But alas, this is cheese. 

Our lovely courtyard

Omelette jambon fromage avec salade verte. What was left after a couple mili seconds anyway.