My plate is full to overflowing and when that happens my thought process, which is not all that linear to begin with, starts to pop like corn. It’s a sort of crazy connect the dots, though the end product looks more hypotrochoid than picture. Unfortunately, those symmetric lines and loops are a little harder to translate into words. So, this draft has sat, unattended, for the last three days. I plan to give it a go and if it seems a jumble forgive me; my life is currently a jumble.
As a lover of needlework I fell right into Olympia Le-Tan’s clutches in World of Interiors. Combined here is a passion for creation and stitching with a love of first edition books. How could she go wrong? Handiwork of nearly every kind appeals to me because of the work itself – the time devoted, the process – and the role of the stitcher. It has largely been women’s work and past-time and hobby and it is interesting to see the craft translated from busy-ness to business. And art.
Oddly, at the time I received the issue I’d been trolling the pages of old HGs with the same sort of nostalgia most people feel flipping through their childhood photo albums. Open on my desk was a story of a home decorated by Pierre Le-Tan (Olympia’s father) from April of 2003. The living room is still remarkable fresh, though that was not the page that stared back at me just inches from my right elbow for over a week.
I had meant then, and still intend, to research Line Vautrin who created these fanciful bronze boxes, right and bottom (the painting on ivory is by Le-Tan.) I did hit Vautrin’s site and expected to cull images and information, but at a time when I am winnowing my list to things that must be done it just seemed that I could point you there from here.
As near as I can tell, it takes about a minute and a half to read one of these posts, and I can’t suppose the lack of them makes all that much difference, but things may be a bit spotty over the next couple of weeks. I just wanted to let you know and hope that you will, please, stand by.
Images from top, World of Interiors, October 2010, photography by Bruno Suet; next and bottom, House and Garden, April 2003, photography by Francois Halard.
We discussed this in person over lunch when you were in Chicago last May–I think think AAL & EEE were the actual subjects of our conversation–and we agreed that the length of time between posts doesn't matter, as long as there's the hope of more to come. Do whatever you need to do. We'll still be here after things calm down.
You are a brilliant wordsmith Blandings, and we humble, devoted followers cling to your every syllable. Your posts will be missed but we will continue checking in….faithfully ; )
thenerochronicles.blogspot.com
Some posts are a quick read, while others facinate me and I spend time reading and then looking at the picture to see how it relates, and continue this process to the end of the post. I often reread them later if I'm in to something you have written about and want a refresher of your information or opinion. I frequenly remember something you've said in your essays on life. I've learned a lot from you, both about design and life, and eagerly await seeing that you have another new post.
That being said, thank you for letting us know that most your attention will be elsewhere for a period of time. Your posts are a joy to read and even "spotty" is a gift. Will be thinking of you during this time.
Sometimes my thoughts take much longer….smiles.
<< …it takes about a minute and a half to read one of these posts, and I can't suppose the lack of them makes all that much difference…>>
You're joking, right? Every time, for the past 5 days, that I clicked on your bookmark and saw the same post from Friday I died a little bit more inside ….
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Good always to see your posts. I look forward to them on a daily basis and am disappointed when they are not there. A bit like going to one's mailbox for an expected letter from a friend. Ann
Obviously we all feel the same way – love and look forward to your posts but always wish you the best in your life and hope that all is going well. Please know that we are with you in spirit if not in word.
So that's what it's called…"pop like corn", I knew there was a technical term it…for when my thoughts started acting like Mexican jumping beans (remember those?). Anyway…you did just great..Shopgirl recently wrote a very insightful post on this particular blogging dilemma…I related completely having just gone through a similar phase.
You just need a little salt & butter and you'll be fine… we'll be here waiting with a pop of the liquid kind when you return!
xo J~
I am fairly new to the world of bloggers and am "the kid in the candy shop" reading them.
I can not imagine how you and others do a daily blog. We, the readers thank you. There is no need to apologize.
Love your writing, sense of humor and informative posts. Will be awaiting them whenever they return.
I keep your posts in my inbox until I have the time I want to devote to them, clicking all your links and putting together all of your ideas. Your posts are interesting and inspiring. I always look forward to them in my inbox. Love the Line Vautrin link, thank you. Good luck with everything in the meantime.
Standing by.
Your posts are missed–first things first: family (boys) and life. Can't wait til you catch your breath. Line Vautrin is my inspiration.
I can certainly relate. Your posts are worth waiting for. Take care of you.
Ha! Starved folks like me know to go to the "archives" and since I have only been following you for less than a year, I have started in 2007! Hope you and yours are all well and happy, and of course, "we" anxiously await your return… Pam