Josh Josh Josh Josh Josh Josh Josh: Part 1

The 'Straight to You' Concert, July 29, 2011, 8pm
Wells Fargo Center (formerly the Wachovia Center), Philadelphia

As I have gotten older and had more stress in my life, I have unfortunately had less and less time to obsess over Josh Groban. But when I discovered myself separated from seeing him live by only a matter of hours, I found myself in a frenzy of excitement. But after all, what else would you expect?

In preparation, in the morning, knowing that I would be leaving essentially straight from work I opted to wear my black liquid eyeliner because 1) it would look classy and 2) it would last all day and night without much smearing. I would not have time for touch-ups, and I couldn't go to see Josh with creased eyeliner! No sir!

I also had to wear something cute, hip-concert-goer-y-but-not-going-to-the-opera-fancy-or-t-shirt-slobbish, and most importantly work appropriate. I opted for a short skirt, tank-top, and blue sweater. The sweater saved me from raised eyebrows at work and could be discarded later for more concert-appropriate fashionableness. I also pocketed my bright red lipstick for the final touch to be added before departure.

But enough about the wardrobe, I also made sure I was up to date on all Josh's video blog posts. (I wasn't, I'd missed one) and read some reviews of the concert as apparently it was getting glowing reviews. I also spent some time daydreaming about what songs I wanted him to sing. I read a few interviews in which he was most hilariously amusing. Which was of course to be expected . . . Technically I was leaving work an hour early, but I am afraid I might have checked out a little earlier.

I was also extremely worried about getting to the arena on-time as I would be driving to Philadelphia essentially during rushhour and not only with a thousand Josh-fans but also anyone going to the Philles game. So I decided to leave three hours early, even though it only takes one hour, according to mapquest.

Luckily, traffic was really not that bad at all until the last 20 miles, in which we saw a white stretch limousine and listened to Mumford & Sons, Florence + the Machine, and Laura Marling. Because my car is super-cool and doesn't have a radio that works, we tested out my battery-powered speakers. Happily, they worked.

Parking, which I had expected to be hell, was super easy, and since I had pre-paid for reserved parking the nice man at the parking booth said we could park anywhere we wanted!!! So we parked three rows from the arena. Yay! Mega-convenient! We were an hour early. But there were also lots of other people around, and we took a moment to eat brownies in the parking lot and smile bemusedly at people in their Josh Groban t-shirts.

We were super afraid of security, so we left our cameras in the car. We were surprised to find security was very lax. We could have brought in our cameras no problem. They did not search our bags at all which meant I succeed in sneaking in Swedish Fish and could have smuggled in my massive bottle of Coke that was probably coming to a slow boil in the car. My companion did get stopped and questioned about her suspicious-looking "water bottle" which the gent suspected was really a "can" and if so that was apparently going to be a problem. I distracted him by asking where the bathrooms were, and she got off with an instruction to "drink it before you enter" which she totally did not do at all. In rebellion, she filled it up at the water fountain. It was pretty exciting.

We strolled around, bought an overpriced hot dog and pretzel, tried out both entrances to our section, considered getting ice cream, sat down, counted the heterosexual men under the age of 50 we could spot, made fun of the flashing advertisements--- one of which was a massive close-up of Enrique Iglesias' eye, ate Swedish Fish and merrily waited for Josh to come sing to us.

Come On Get Crafty: Corners of My Mind

My latest masterpiece. The picture came from an NY Times article about light bulbs. It has faded rather badly. But as I worked on it, it made me think of "bright ideas" and the light bulb that often symbolized an "epiphany." But as I doodled more and more, I occurred to me that our minds, while often fully of "bright ideas" and moments of clarity, they are also filled with all sorts of random inklings (. . . oh, I am so clever, aren't I?) and musings hiding the big picture--- and these themselves are often beautiful and curious.

Les jeunes filles quie portent des lunettes de soleil, Item 6

Item 6, Les jeunes filles quie portent des lunettes de soleil Collection

Everyone should do this in their spare time. Especially in red sunglasses. It look quite relaxing. Handsome boy in designer shades not required.

Les jeunes filles qui portent des lunettes de soleil, Item 5

Item 5, Les jeunes filles quie portent des lunettes de soleil Collection

I think I kept this one just because of the beautiful skin tones. Paired with the peach feathers and the white jewelry and grapefruit-pink logo everything looks so in harmony. Who cares about the sunglasses?

Les jeunes filles qui portent des lunettes de soleil, Item 4

Item 4, Les jeunes filles qui portent des lunettes de soleil Collection

I don't know if I'd want to be best pals with these girls--- they look like they live a bit on the wild side. But then again it's good to let down your hair sometimes and have some free-wheeling fun! And gotta dig the groovy retro get-ups. You know you secretly want to wear frilly blouses with vests and giant round sunglasses.

Photogsnazzy: Prom

I took this picture before my lil sister's prom during this weird, endless ritual when everyone's family gathers at one person's house and spends ages taking a billion photos of 30 giddy teenagers.

For me it captures what prom seemed to be about for me: young people being confused, dressed-up & silly in a pretty drab and conformative setting, but some how believing it is supposed to be a really iconic, personal moment.

Les jeunes filles qui portent des lunettes de soleil, Item 3

Item 3, Les jeunes filles qui portent des lunettes de soleil Collection

Julia Roberts lookalike!

Powder Keg: Zodiac-inspired Fashion Spread, British Vogue, Dec 2010

I would like to share one of my favorite photo spreads. It was a creative break from the traditional model-in-front-of-color-solid-wall or model-in-grassy-field/beach or model-in-exotic-land cycle we usually get. In December 2010, the British Vogue published a spread inspired by the zodiac signs. You can find them all here. Below are my favorites.

Freebies from Florence

Florence + the Machine's shop are having an awesome give away. They were giving away a free tote bag and diary when you purchase a t-shirt.

As I am in love with Florence and have been contemplating buying a t-shirt for some time now, I was SO THERE.

After considering these:

I eventually went with this one:

I got a sad email this morning saying that due to the unexpected over-whelming response, they've run out of diaries. So I won't actually be getting one of those. (I did get a 20% off my next purchase code though! yay!)

But I will be getting a free tote bag! I hope I get this one:

Les jeunes filles qui portent des lunettes de soleil, Item 2

Item 2, Les jeunes filles qui portent des lunettes de soleil Collection

These are some pretty show-stopping, head-turning, jaw-droppingly fantastic sunglasses. She looks soooo cool in them. She wears these glasses just to show off her overpowering self-confidence. She is so confident, that when she wears sunglasses to look cool, she wears sunglasses that don't hide any of her face. Because that is how awesome she is.

Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy

A well-made trailer is really a beautiful thing.

I've become obsessed with the trailer for the upcoming "Tinker, Tailor, Solider, Spy." This trailer is SO GREAT. I am dying to see this movie after watching it. I have watched the trailer 10 times. Seriously. The music is great. The editing is great. It subtly and simply builds the tension, hinting at the quietude yet gravity of the story being told.

I am in fits of rapture over the wonderful visual harkening-back to the old Cold War spy thriller and the 70s gritty crime film. First, how about the fantastic costumes. How perfect are those suits? the glasses? the hair cuts?

and how AMAZING do they make Tom Hardy look? Just flawless work being done here. I just hope Steve McQueen doesn't catch him!

(from Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy)

(from Bullitt)

Second, but just as wonderful, the shadows and muted colors that positively SCREAM "I am the spawn of The French Connection" make me want to kiss the cinematographer. Does this guy know his stuff, or does he know his stuff?!

(from Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy)

(from The French Connection)

The blunt, sneakily-in-your-face framing and composition get right at the danger, power-play and hardness at the center of these steely relationships,

And of course, those shots that masterfully pile on the tension and action, much to the viewer's extreme delight. (HE'S BEHIND YOU!!!!!)


Oh boy oh boy oh boy! I can't wait to see this film!!!

Envying London: the plays the thing!

One of my favorite up-and-coming young British actresses, Felicity Jones, was on the front page of the arts section of the NY Times today! Yay!

She is performing in a new play, "Luise Miller," about political corruption, intrigue, and the undoing of young, honest folk in love. Sounds great! Too bad I can't see it because it is in London.

The dashing Ben Daniels is in it too playing an evil chancellor. But I still can't see him, because like the rest of the play & ensemble, he is in London. But he is looking devilishly handsome in the photo for the article! Some small consolation.

Alex Kingston is in this too, playing the mistress to the prince. WHY CAN'T I SEE THIS? Meanwhile, the Doctor and Donna Noble, oops, I mean David Tennant and Catherine Tate are having a boozy 80s jamboree as Benedick and Beatrice in Much Ado About Nothing. Kevin Spacey is playing Richard III; Dominic West and Paul McGann are also treading the boards . . .

If I lived in London (and had the money for it too, while I am dreaming) I would seriously be at the theatre every night!

Les jeunes filles qui portent des lunettes de soleil, Item 1

People collect all sorts of things. For example.

I've started collecting ads I like from magazines that feature young women wearing sun glasses. A such, I've dubbed the collection "Young women/girls who wear sunglasses" but in French, because that makes it sound much more debonair.

Sun glasses add so much character yet aloof coolness to a person's ambiance. But I also love the irony of the pictures as sun glasses are supposed to hide you, shield you from the inquisitive eye of the on-looker and yet, because these are ads I can look at them as much as I want! hahaha!

I don't select every ad I see with young women wearing sun glasses, just the ones I like. Some criteria I might consider: not-boring, cool sunglasses?, would I want to be friends with these people (if I was forced to make such a decision based solely on a photograph of them wearing sun glasses), it is artistically interesting.

For slow days, thought I'd start sharing some of my selections. Tell me what you think of them. Are they worthy?

P.S. As I am a novice, I haven't recorded what magazine or product these are coming from. Sometimes you can tell, sometimes you can't, sorry.

Item 1:

Random Perfume Update: Marie Antoinette lives on

I am not personally into perfume at all, but this is actually kinda cool. Marie Antoinette's favorite scent is being revived! Now we can all smell like an infamous French aristocrat and victim of the guillotine!

(Well, actually only if you can stomach the $130 bill.)

But what is weird (because nothing about this is weird yet) is that it is being launched on Bastille Day. It was my general impression that the French people struggling for their independence and who stormed the Bastille that historic, symbolic day rather disapproved of Marie Antoinette & amis and their decedent, frivolous, expensive, elite way of life. Hence all the executions.

So reviving an expensive luxury item belonging to the Queen of France seems like a rather disingenuous way to celebrate the French Revolution. Les citoyens would not approve!

But maybe that's just me and my history books.

Introducing Powder Keg & Spread by Robert Trachtenberg for Tatler, Aug 2011

Prefixing posts with "Powder Keg" is my amusing way of indicating that I will be discussing fashion magazines. (Don't get the joke, look up "magazine" in the dictionary and be enlightened.)

This spread for Tatler is a super refreshing change from the general boring, hyper-sexualized, often racist, and gimmick-masquerading-as-creativity. It includes cute clothes, fashion icons, and cleverness!

My two favs:

Poem: Whalebones

Whalebones

Whalebones sing.

To some they summon a world

soft tones, soft looks,

dances of love words.

Bones tinkle together

like kissing chimes

strings of crystals

wineglass stems

arranged flowers.

They are magic wands of a fairyland,

gilt in the faded shades of picture books.

But those bones displace mine,

I feel my body crushed.

My own ribs bend inward,

shudder, split, splinter,

pierce my lungs

I can’t breathe, I say.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t move. I can’t run.

I can’t scream. I can’t sing.

Someone must help me.

The bone merchant does.

Anecdote: Coconut Saga

So Saturday I was making a fruit platter for a barbecue. Thought I'd be creative and include some coconut.

Purchased said coconut, bring it home only to remember I know nothing about how to crack a coconut.

Watched a video about how to crack a coconut. It was a bit insane. Involved an oven. Decided I'd skip that bit.

Carefully poke a hole in the coconut to drain the water. No water. Hmmmm. Shake it around a bit, give it a few punches. Still no water. Worry about this for little bit, then decided who cares, I'm not here for the water anyway.

Begin tapping the "equator" of the coconut with a hammer as instructed by the interweb. Do this for several minutes. No progress.

More tapping. No improvement.

Dad suggests I hit it harder. I explain to him that the internet warned me not to strike it too hard.

Dad ignores me and give the coconut a big wallop with the hammer and the shell cracks beautifully in half.
I spent several minutes prodding the coconut with a knife and spoon trying to get the half of the meat still in the shell out.

Dad gives it another wack and out it pops.
We both feel pretty great for accomplishing such a great feat.

Then, the coconut tastes TERRIBLE and I decide not to include it in the fruit platter after all.

The end.

Come On Get Crafty: Dot Dudette

This is one of my favorites. This girl's glasses are fantastic. Best way to celebrate is to cover the picture in polka dots, clearly.

Photogsnazzy: Depression Bread Line, by George Segal

As I've said before, I don't know much about sculpture, but one of my favorite sculptors is George Segal.

He is well-known for his "Depression Bread Line" which just beautifully captures the pathos of 30s poverty.

Pics taken at the Ground for Sculpture.

He is also featured in the wonderful work he did for the FDR memorial in Washington D.C.

I think I feel a kinship with the dash of melancholy and bleak anonymity his style often gives his subjects. There is something very New Jersey (tri-state?) about it to me; Segal lived in New Jersey for 60 years. My writing professor once described my writing as: "You have Beauty & Nature versus, for lack of a better word, New Jersey." That's not exactly how I see it, but there is something of that going on in me, and perhaps in Segal as well.

Photogsnazzy: My summer friends, the Snapdragons

Rutgers rarely does things of which I approve, but I must congratulate whoever is responsible for this lovely bed of snapdragons outside the dining hall near my office. Every time I see their bright summer cheerfulness, I cannot help but smile and acknowledge that there is beauty and grace in the world.

NYTimes talks Male Beauty Standards

Cool article in the NYTimes Style section this week about a new model-athlete: South African sprinter Oscar Pistorius.

Pistorius is being featured as a sort of cyborg-super hero in a new ad campaign for a fragrance by Thierry Mugler (yeah, idk anything about the 'fragrance' industry either). But the thing that is supposed to grab our attention: he is a double amputee who runs on blade-like prosthetics. Not your typical hunk.

While debate continues about whether paralympians and amputees have become a bit of "thing" in the fashion world of late, and whether this is exploitative, I appreciate this article drawing attention to Pistorius because for once, we are not exclusively focusing on women as we discuss fashion/advertising and body image.

Women definitely face extreme and rigid standards that are supposed to determine the value and success of our body, especially in the fashion/modeling world. But this article actually acknowledges there are pretty ridiculous standards out there for men too, and that striving to meet them can be pretty unhealthy. And men should be allowed to acknowledge this and transparently work to change this. It is really cool to see someone taking the issue of body conformity to other genders, even if it is an ad company. Everyone benefits when we reexamine all the strict rules we impose on ourselves, and that reduce anyone's worth to fitting into a certain "image."

Pistorius leaves us with this to chew on: "[The ad's superhero image] talks about not conforming to what are believed to be the limits of others, but striving to make the limits of your own."

We often forget that the limitations others construct for us--- usually based on silly things like weight, gender, race--- don't have to be our limitations. And this message is just as powerful whether coming from a man or a woman.



Although, what all this has to do with a perfume/cologne . . . . ?

Photogsnazzy: My summer friends, the Hydrangeas

My parents took my camera on a two week trip around New England. But that didn't stop me from taking pics, cuz my phone now is a camera phone because I am super hip and cool. Here are some GORGEOUS hydrangeas I had the privilege of encountering last weekend.


They were in full bloom, glowing with summer. I just wanted to dance around in their glory and splendor. Unfortunately, that would have been really weird and embarrassed the people I was with.

Photogsnazzy: King Lear, by J. Seward Johnson

I don't know much about sculpture, and this artist had many other, different sculptures around the Grounds for Sculpture in Hamilton, NJ, but I was very taken with this 20ft metal depiction of King Lear. Something about it captures the forlorn, weary despair about the classic character yet retains its regal dignity and moral certainty.

I was very much fascinated by the haunting face and eyes.

Ok, so maybe JK Rowling is a little bit of a genius.

Although I readily admit to getting a kick out the ole Harry Potter books, (not the least because they spawned a movie franchise that continuously parades the pantheon of British acting elites) but I've never really believed that they really qualify as "great work of literature."

Sure, the Harry Potter global phenomena (even pre-movies) needs to be acknowledged. And, to be fair, she's cooked up some pretty stupendous characters, dreamed up some great settings, has a pretty good sense of wholesome humor, and suspense, and can clearly write an engaging adventure. She definitely has a more than healthy dose of creativity and narrative-construction skills.

But still, in my book, she still wanders into some pretty cliched or let's say heavy borrowing of ideas not really worthy of her---why oh why the "chosen-one" prophesy thing? we were so fine without it!--- and her writing is not what I would consider "great prose."

HOWEVER, perhaps I've been overlooking a few other things that deserve mentioning.

I came across this blog post entitled "The Women of The Harry Potter Universe," and by golly, now that you point it out to me, JK has serious done something pretty incredible: She's constructed a world and a narrative that takes women's equality as a given.

As the article explains, the women in the Harry Potter books are not only well-constructed, dynamic characters who avoid stereotypes (not a treatment the gals regularly get) but they are just as awesome, active, and crucial to the stopping the baddies as the gents. Sure Harry is the protagonist, so we spend a bit more time fussing over his feelings and his mentors/nemesises (Dumbledore, Black, Malfoy, Snape) but he is only ever as good as his supporting cast--- male and female. And as Feurbach says:

"These women fill all sorts of roles: mothers (Molly Weasley, Narcissa Malfoy, Lily Potter), professors (McGonagall, Pomona Sprout, Sybill Trelawney), highly trained aurors (Tonks, Alice Longbottom), Dumbledore's Army members (Luna Lovegood, Ginny Weasley, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, the Patil twins, Lavender Brown), nurses (Madam Pomfrey), Triwizard champion (Fleur Delacour), and Quidditch players (Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, Cho Chang)."

The women are just as strong, diverse, competent, inspiring, and talented as the men who run about doing awesome things alongside them--- just like in real life.

But hold the applause. There is more.

What is even more incredible is that Rowling has also managed to give us a cast of male characters who see this whole thing as a non-issue. Harry, Ron, Neville, Dumbledore, Fred & George, Hagrid, Lupin, Dean, Seamus, Flitwick, and the rest of the lads are not wimping around worrying about the state of their masculinity and plotting petty ruses to undermine the ladies. Because you know what? It doesn't bother them.

Just because Hermione is brilliant, doesn't mean Harry can't be brilliant. McGonagall being great doesn't make Dumbledore somehow less great. Angelina Johnson and Oliver Wood can both be phenomenal athletes. You'd want Ginny and Mrs. Weasley on your side, just as much as you'd want Ron and Mr. Weasley. Lupin is not crippled with an inferiority complex because his wife is also a super-cool auror. Even Bellatrix is just as horrible as the other death eaters.

Somehow, these men are able coexist with these spectacular women without feeling threatened and inadequate. It goes without saying, that they can admire them, appreciate them, and, you know, respect them as equals. Again, just like thousands men in the real world! For some reason these men don't usually make it into our mainstream narratives, but thanks to Rowling, we've now got a few (quite a few) more!

In short, JK Rowling gives us a story in which men and women being equally extraordinary can work together to achieve victory over evil. And what a great story! Both genders bring tons of talent, courage, and charisma to the table--- regardless of their genders. She doesn't make a huge song and dance about how women and men are equal, she just shows us that they are.

The beauty is in the simplicity. And that, friends, is a pretty great achievement.

Photogsnazzy: Chili Soap Bubbles

Ok, the story: my mom made chili.  After dinner, she filled up the pot in which the chili had been made with soap water, then oops! Someone forgot to wash it.  Got up the next morning.  Early morning sun streaming through the window.  Blazing orange soap bubbles!!!

If I actually had an photography skills I would have exposed this better.  They were slightly more red than in this picture  and they were pretty amazing.  I have no shame in confessing that I probably spend 15 minutes staring into the kitchen sink.

Come On Get Crafty: Amateur EnviroUltilitariFeminist Art, 2

This one is pretty gaudy. I think it would have been much improved had it not gotten the ribbon treatment.

I don't recall mailing this to anyone, yet it has disappeared. Hmmm.

Poem: The Oyster

Poems are a frequent product of my attempts to write anything else.

In the spring, I had the great opportunity to hear poet Marie Howe speak and read when she visited Rutgers University. She said that it usually took her several years to complete one book of poetry. I was astonished, as like most novices, I think every word is golden in a first draft. But as I continue to write I am coming to understand her more and more.

This poem has been through probably eight drafts. I was hung up on the word "bauble" for a while, and have recently excised it satisfactorily. It probably still needs many more drafts, as most of the time when I make a change, I know it makes the poem better, but I don't always know why. And actually, between writing this sentence and the previous sentence, I wrote two more drafts, and I am still experiencing some ambivalence regarding the third stanza and the final line. But nonetheless, here it is.


The Oyster

I once dreamed of pearls.

Until I saw them carving my headstone in chalk.


Jewel-painted,

I am grown, nurtured---cultivated.

I am

loved?


Then,

they shatter me.

Shovel-handed, they scrape, scoop, tear---

pittances from the flesh.

The husk, they throw away:

shards of shell, to grind to dust


or sometimes,

to be picked up by some slow, quiet girl

who will say

‘These were pretty once.’

and lay the pieces together.


But some will be missing.

Come On Get Crafty: an Introduction

In my attempts to "be productive" yet still watch television, I have taken up card-making.

I use found material, by which I dramatically mean: old magazines, candy wrappers, stickers, ribbon, pictures from the New York times, various pens, and doodling--- sometimes rather badly. Basically anything that is flat and is glue-able. I recently (well actually several months ago) went to the craft store and bought some patterned paper and a pair of scissors with a jagged blades. I don't find I use them very much.

I had considered venturing into more diverse textures with some butterfly-shaped rhinestones, but my mother stole them from me. I got some stamps but can't figure out how to make them work properly. I'll probably give them away before the year is up.

I also bought some larger card stock than I'd been using. I recently made a card (not my best work--- it featured some chairs I think, or was it a staircase) and to get it away from me, decided to send it to a friend, only to discover upon signature that I didn't buy any envelopes in which to mail them. I made a make-shift one out of a piece of paper. Definitely not my best work.

I decided that I should take pictures of my cards before I send them, to keep from repeating myself in my illustrious future as a card-maker. As such, I am now able to force my ugly and silly artwork upon more than a single correspondent. Ha ha! Step 1 in my plans for world domination!

To kick us off, I have decided to start with a selection from what I consider my Amateur EnviroUltilitariFeminist Art line. Feast thine eyes: