Yesterday, an old friend, died. He was the brother of an ex of mine, and she wrote to tell me the sad news.
I remember Gordon fondly. He was funny, had a booming, goofy, infectious laugh. He was smart, tall, attractive, amazing. Obsessive. Also troubling and troubled. Complicated, difficult, dangerous. The youngest of the three children, the baby--at 6'4". And he died, after many years of close calls, of a drug overdose. Which, horrifyingly, his sister discovered and attempted CPR, as did the medics who were called. But G was gone. Imagining this scenario makes my hairs rise.
I feel flat today. Last night was full of sadness. Today that ache comes and goes, as it will because that's how grief does. I wrote my friend back and shared the two immediate memories that sprang to mind. They are happy memories, Gordon silly & playful--the sparkling, funny lad, the brighter, lighter side.
When their mother was still alive, Gordon and she spent months watching Emma every night. Why? Who can say. I wasn't there, but I understand ritual and routine and odd comforts. So they watched this old Gwyneth Paltrow vehicle over and over and over. Until Gordon could recite the entire movie's dialog by heart, which he did, in falsetto when appropriate. And picturing this, hearing the cadences in my mind's ear, Gordon's funny ways, his silly, British voice-over--this has always made me laugh. It's so this family.
And the other truly, wonderfully stupid thing: when he and his friend were watching The Silence of the Lambs, and they both leaped up, ran to opposite side of the house, and seemingly on cue, flung open both doors--resplendant in tucked nakedness: "I'd do me." "It pusts the lotion on it's skin or it gets the hose again." Each one trying to surprise and shock and delight the other--and they both fell out laughing. True idiots! I love that story.
And today. It's still a sad day. Sadder in unknowable ways for Ish and family. And busy. God, death makes survivors so busy. I'm sure they're in various degrees of shock and numbness, resignation, upset and anger. Sure too, the stress of relief. Gordon isn't dangerous anymore. He isn't scary, or worrisome, or vexing or infuriating. He's not making everyone crazy with his craziness. But he's also not here to provoke--in the thoughtful, odd and curious ways he could. What do you do with the finality of that, and loss? Now we're all just sad and flat. His family is busy in their grief and planning. Friends will send condolences and think their thoughts. Life will keep moving on around everyone. Life does that. Time stops and time keeps rushing by.
There are a lot of really positive changes going on. But I'm contending with some anxiety. Part of it is control, part of it is worry. I'd like to enter fully into the spirit of the thing, but I feel nervous and that anxiety is having a blunting effect.
I know that these worrisome feelings will eventually recede--and as certain external events drop into place, that will help also. I feel a little stressed as well as sad. Maybe when we're all moved into our new neighborhood and I can get more into my thing--I can meet some like-minded folk and start fresh. I'm just down now and how much would it rock to not be?
Last official day of work was Friday. Had a good class -- and got pretty choked up when I left. As it turns out, those boys love me. And this is one of the first jobs I've had in a long time, where (despite my personal qualms with some on-going issues) I really did feel loved by most of the crew. It's an odd thing that so many personal friendships have come from a job that I often found so troubling.
As an analog to my previous post lamenting and celebrating my long distance relationship with my very bestest of best BFFs and most wonderfullest of lovelies and most loyal of loyals and most true of trues and good of goods--I had a one-off convo with her as we were window shopping for sofas that in retrospect has continued to make me sadder and sadder.
There was another couple in Crate & Barrel looking at flatware and glasses--and they were approximately our same age. But they were a male-female couple. I suddenly realized that KB and I are about (well, mostly) to move in together and possibly to move cross-country together. This past winter we went on a road trip and accidentally/serendipitously found the place we want to get 'married' (if that's an option). On that same trip I found a simple, pretty dress I want to wear to that happy event--and gosh, the list just goes on and on. I think my sister will be delighted to marry us and with luck, both our sets of parents will attend. If that's too uncomfortable, for them, I know our siblings will attend--and that's wonderful. We're lucky to have such supportive sisters.
But I digress. I suddenly found myself saying that I thought it was a sad thing, that though we may do all of this, all of the above, feel just as strongly as our hetero couple--have just as good a chance of making it--if not better considering how much we've already dealt with and remained strong...that it was just a sad and strange to thing to know that the marriage option might not be available. That where so many other couples register at shops to help them start off, it won't be obviously assumed that we'd want and like to do this too.
Now, we're not a young 20-something couple just starting out with nothing to our names. I have been lucky to come from a family of artists and designers. I have a beautiful home, I don't 'need' anything--although as with any 'new' couple, we have items we'd like to replace with things that we find together--like the sofa. Like a new mattress, if not a new bed, like down-sizing and getting rid of duplicate household items, to make way for one set, our set, for us.
I'm rambling now, but the point is--it struck me as so odd and weird and sad and strange and stupid that even now, I know it wouldn't be a given that we'd maybe want and need to be acknowledged in the same way that our straight counterparts would. That I, too, want my parents to support me and my partner--and that if we should fall on hardship and harsh feelings--our parents would first be beholding to our stance as a couple, our vows--and not necessarily always be seeing our love, our bond, as different and a little less real--and a little less automatically cherished.
A person should be so lucky to find such a stalwart, decent, kind and true heart as I have found in KB. We are two peas in an odd pod for sure. The chances of us not meeting so exponentially outweigh the chances of us finding one another it's ridiculous that we did. And if this isn't special, I don't know what is.
After 5 years of living apart and dealing with a long-distance relationship, this situation is finally drawing to a close.
Here's what I've found. Although we've both gotten better at handling the distance, it hasn't gotten easier. If anything, this year has been much harder. With all the practice we've had, routines still never get established, there's always a dis/re-connect, there's always more financial burden, more food that spoils, more gasoline that's used, more nights and days alone, less ability to feel like you're a twosome facing the world together--when practically speaking, we are often simply each just one, trying to do the things that couples regularly get to do, but we have to do them apart.
This means birthdays, anniversaries, doctor's appointments, home repairs, yard maintenance, cooking, illness, dog walks, celebrations--most often happen individually and in isolation.
I'm so excited that we may, within just a handful more months, actually live together! In ONE place: together. There will be inevitable moving issues--doesn't matter how positive a step it is, even good stress is still stress. It's really blistered us in particular this year. If ever I doubted the role stress can play in overall health, this year has completely affirmed how significant a threat it is.
I'm already prepping for the 'good' stress that will be come in hand with the happy, and complicated, times ahead. That both of us will experience. We are pretty good communicators if in no small part due to the nature of our relationship--and how careful one has to be in these situations to stay together emotionally, and to keep feeling like a team. I am fully committed to Team KB.
Sharon Raydor sitting pretty surrounded by pretty things. She's on a Mies van der Rohe "Barcelona" chair, sitting next to an Eileen Gray E-1027 side table--and then another Barcelona chair.
I've always liked that E-1027 table, and it's one of the most copied/reproduced tables out there. Which means you can spend quite a lot on one, or relatively little. Glass-top tables & I do not get along. I grew up in a very designerly home, full of loveliness and lots and lots of sharp-edged, nearly invisible glass-top tables. My shins & thighs remember this well. What I like about Eileen Gray's table is that it's light, airy and surrounded by a safety bumper of polished chrome. Praise the lord.
I've gone on and on here already once before about the Meis van der Rohe chair--so I won't blubber any more. Except to say that it is BEAUTIFUL and also very costly if one purchases Knoll's version. But this design is also highly copied--and cheaper knock-offs can be found, although I'd be very careful about construction. For me, this is one of those snotty designs that I'd want an original of: the craftsmanship is brilliant, it has such an important place in design history, it's just the pinnacle of chair design.
While looking up pictures of the Barcelona and E-1027 table, I stumbled across this image from Flickr (photo is G. Travels) and I could move into this space in the time it would take me to snap my fingers:
Because not only does this wonderful library nook (let me just stop there and say: Library Nook again--because, perfection) have both the Eileen Gray table and van der Rohe's chair--it also has my most beloved, beloved table lamp design of all time: W. Wagenfeld's "Bauhaus" lamp. I mean, it's so iconic, it's referred to as the "Bauhaus" lamp. Let's just take a Bauhaus break:
As a bonus, here's a couple pics of Mary McDonnell & Kyra Sedgwick on a couple of white Barcelonas:
I've been trying to definitively ID this watch for a while. The issue is that it's a very subtle watch, with few good, clear screen caps that I can find.
My initial gut reaction was that it's a Skagen mesh bracelet watch--the versions with a separate lug that attaches the band to the case, rather than the all-in-one case that morphs into the mesh band.
I thought it was Skagen, because it's such a classic design, very Danish and has been around for quite some time. It's an affordable watch that is designerly and clean--it crosses 'money' lines & is less obvious than a Movado, say.
But the lugs are the thing that's killing me. I have found some Skagens that seem to have the correct lug width--but then the case seems too thick. There are a ton of mesh bracelet watches out there. It could just as possibly be a Timex--another classic, affordable watch-maker with some very nice watches--or a Maurice Lacroix, Hillfiger--just so many brands do this type of watch now. But Skagan was the original.
So, thus far, the parts I'm using as fingerprint factors are:
- white dial, or stainless--but I think white
- mesh bracelet
- separate lugs that attach the mesh band to the case
- some kind of numbers or hash marks on the face
- clean, flat buckle
But beyond Skagen watches, there are so many similar styles:
Hamlin, Hilfiger, Marice Lacroix, Timex (X2)...the list can go on and on...
Here's a really lovely Calvin Klein watch. Sharon's isn't this one at all, but the CK watch is just so gorgeous and simple:
Those engraved numbers are freaking beautiful. I can hardly stand how sublime this watch is.
But, back to the issue at hand: what watch is Sharon sporting? I want to say it's a Skagen for all the reasons, but if it's a prop watch (?) it could be nearly any knock-off brand. I keep hoping one of these days I'll find a great reference shot & solve it. Until then, I'm trending toward Skagen, but keeping an open mind.
I'm thinking that strap end is a give-away. Nearly positive we've got a Skagen goin' on.
So I'm trying to figure out Tumblr, because it's always confused me AND because of this next tragedy:
My blog, here, is being completely taken over by Sharon-Fucking-Raydor. The woman herself. And I need a separate space for my shameful fan-girling. Because it's that bad. No, really. I have reached the point where I must compartmentalize my lurve for Sharon-Fucking-Raydor. Or Laura Roslin. Whateves. Two sides of a coin. A really shiny, pretty coin. Oh, sorry. I went somewhere.
I'm gonna the prop-identification thing here, cause that's my deal. And occasional pretty pics because, honestly, who doesn't want to look at someone old enough to be their grandmother and skeeve on her hard time? Oh? Only perverts, you say. Okaaay.
Tumblr feels like shorthand. Here, at my blog, I can go into greater depth about props, related props, things that they are reminiscent of--and alternative options that folk might be able to find.
For whom am I doing this? I assume there are ppl out there like me, who have weird skills: and those should always be shared. So for that person who manages to find my site--and who isn't good with interior/industrial design--you've got me. I'm your girl for prop identification and you may go forth and shop, shop, shop for that desired prop. I do my best to provide all pertinent information that I can find.
I think I'm the only former interior designer/propper who is into, say, all 100 of her pepper grinders. Or mugs. Or pens. Or tables. Or lamps. Or...well, you get the picture. But in order to keep the Prop-IDing here pure, I'm gonna try and dump the pretty pics at Tumblr.
But ALL that fucking ballet stuff just stumps me. I've been crawling for IDs on some of those ugly ballet sculptures forever and come up with nothing. Ballet's not really my thing either, so the urge to ID is low.