My friend's 3 year old daughter lovingly calls anything related to Halloween "the spooky". Tim Burton's, Jack Skelington takes residence in Disney's haunted mansion, this time of year. It's such a visual treat to see it so decked out in jack-o-lanterns, scary Christmas carol scrolls, and other Burton-esque decor.
The new Twilight Zone Hollywood Tower of Terror ride, also recently opened at Disney and we were terribly jazzed to try it out. The line winds through the interior of an 1920's era styled hotel, complete with creepy bellhops and antique furniture. Really, it's a sight to behold..click here to see photos. It reminded me a bit of the Hogwart's school from the Harry Potter films. The actual ride, was also quite boss. The premise, is that you are entering a haunted elevator shaft...that has taken on a mind of it's own. 3-D special effects, make you feel as if you have just walked through a movie screen. You feel captivated by the images, then the doors suddenly slam closed as you plummet down the shaft. The feeling of weightlessness is so strange, you can only help but laugh as you float up and down in complete darkness. Your hair and legs uncontrollably fly up in the air. Your heart flutters. The doors open at the top to reveal an open air view of the park...when you ride it at night, the lights of the boardwalk shine through the shaft doors. The feeling of rising and falling was so strange and beautiful, I think I could've ridden the thing 20 times and been equally amused.
Lastly, I know I've not even begun to talk about Halloween... but somehow I can't resist mentioning these knitted cupcake ornaments I saw today at Anthropologie. I don't know what it is about cupcakes, but I even find the fake ones irresistable.
This weekend we stepped out on a drizzly Sunday morning to take a drive down to another historic district, for a walking home tour. Lots of new ideas are dancing around my head because of it. We're in the process of restoring our own 1914 Craftsman bungalow, and the list of things to do is almost unbearable. But after a day full of wandering around in other people's houses, I have a kind of renewed faith in the restoration process. Some of the homes we toured were even once condemed. I've found it takes a lot of vision and self sacrafice to restore an old home, and once you've tasted the process...you have instant admiration for others who've done the same.
Most of the homes we visited were from the arts and crafts period of design, where the focus was more in the simplicity of design itself. Traditionally in this style, walls weren't papered rather they were painted solid colors with unpainted woodwork. The idea was to let the beauty of every object shine through. Porches were originally painted with colors of nature in mind, the ceiling a light blue to mirror the sky, the floor a soft green or brown like the earth. I found it interesting, that in the victorian period gardens were never set against the house, there were seperate spaces alloted for that. Whereas in the arts and crafts period (those who were rebelling against the victorians) nature was brought closer to the front door and things were planted closer to the home.
There are so many time periods at play, in our own home...I couldn't possibly follow the rules of just one. So I tend to make it up as I go...finding solace in the eclectic nature of so many different eras combined. I found that many of the homes we visited held that same conception of what makes a home.
In the vein of Yvestown's "good things" Fridays, I thought I'd share a few things that have recently snared me into an impeccably good mood.
The idea of having colorful lanterns hanging in lieu of curtains in a bedroom. My aunt collects new and vintage lanterns that she buys off of ebay. These hang over her bed. Everytime I go to visit her, the decor has changed. I love her creative energy.
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Playing The Black Keys work (Original version) by Erlend Oye on repeat.
(This is especially good while driving. Head bobbing is completely imperative, causing passing motorists to smile as well.)
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A new evening ritual. Making beaded corsage pins while watching season 6 of Sex in the City.
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Fixing up a very shabby antique birdcage purchased at a local flea market for Pierre. It also came with a gorgeous claw-foot victorian stand, but it's quite wobbly at the moment. For now, I have him on my beading table... he's such good company.
I inherited a small blue cap finch this week, named Pierre. I'm having to get used to all new bird sounds now. It's the oddest thing how every once in awhile I confuse his song for the telephone ringing, and go running to pick up.
I was told that his last owner was trying to find him a mate, so every female that lived with him was named "Mon Cherie". I thought that was pretty amusing. After being told this I couldn't stop imagining Pierre wearing a tiny beret, smoking a cigarette, and singing his sad little love song in French. He's a lover, what can I say?!
I always joke that my parents are such vagabonds, because they are always moving from place to place. After their most recent move, I acquired this funky curved twig thing. It worked out perfectly as a backdrop for our faery garden. I love it. Everytime I look at it, I'm reminded of these beautiful rustic chairs they sell up north in Cambria (my favorite little coastal town) that are made out of bent willow branches.
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Also...here's a little something I made for my sister's birthday last week.
