Hunt continues: less action or more?

I think I will probably stick with my initial apartment choice, but just so that I feel better about committing to it, I have 4 more (or maybe even more) appointments scheduled for tomorrow.
There will even be a couple of multi-level lofts (strangely enough, one of this lofts doesn't seem to have windows in every room).
Putting totally different floor plans aside, one other factor is: do I really really want to live on a noisy street, or in a quaint, quiet cul-de-sac?
It's interesting that I am asking myself this in the first place, for I always took it for granted that I wanted to live in the centre of things. Now, I still will be in the centre, but some houses I've seen feel like my own home with a garden, back porch...
I will know what I decide by the end of this week, hopefully!

Please eat me!

There's no sexual revolution taking place, but on certain days (right now, pretty much!) this necklace accurately expresses my mood.

And mind you, the signals it sends around are powerful: I got sincere compliments from a Ph.D in psychology lady & got helped (much more than 'normal') by a friendly (and impressed) bank clerk.

1968: Love or money, or love of money?

Meet the 1968 ice bucket. I am not quite sure why this particular design theme/idea was applied to an object with this function (freeze your assets??? or see your money melt/disappear if you leave them out in the heat?), but I liked it & bought it anyway & will keep something else inside.

I also like to think about how American this object is: while Parisian students stormed the office of one of the Sorbonne's high officials & started making love in front of his eyes (was he trully shocked though, I wonder?), Americans unsexy worries were centered on Krushchiev.

Enjoy the fine print, or the fabric of our dreams

This kind of print lends itself easily to infinite jokes, some of which pretty naughty: I remember seeing a very similar fabric years ago in SoHo in NYC, where, when/if you looked closer, you saw couples dedicated to pretty intense love-making.

Dead lover's bodies & morgue gurney table

If you've tried numerous diets - Atkins, South Beach, etc., bet you've never heard of a new ''craze'' (very appropriate word in this context!): how about keeping your appetite at its lowest by eating from what used to be a morgue guerney table?

Yeap, that's right: in my vintage hunt last week at the Chicago Edgewater Antique Market I saw & fell in love with the table that had this rusty forceful look. Huge table on wheels. When I got closer, I fell in love with it (my black humor side, that is): it is a morgue table.

I betcha I wouldn't be influenced by that & would have to loose weight by more traditional methods...

As for the above trunk, it will be my coffee table. The trick here is that the coffee table books will actually go inside. Reversed logic will rule in my house! (and that's the only predictable thing so far!)

Mold: fresh looks of your apartment!

Mothers are always right: fresh out of Buenos Aires, landed in London, my mom told me that 'historic' phrase: "You are young but you smell of moth balls!"

To live up to this glorious image, I am excited to find mold in my most recent purchases.

Beautiful things: preloved, used, worn out. With stories to tell.

And the Barcelona-made plate is a pleasure to look at!

Family silver yes! (but not my family's)

I still haven't found THE apartment, but I definitely found some objects to put in there (as if I didn't have enough as it is!)
But time goes by, I have more grey hairs & my love for vintage is stronger than before. So here I am with some objects & I really have to control myself, stick to some kind of a homogenious plan instead of stuffing the rooms with random objects...
Yeah, right: Irene, be rational. Never gonna work this way!

I will fight imprisonment!

P.S. to my previous post
Are prisoners happy?
Right.
So I am off now to check the view in two more apartments.
The window below is by Caravaggio, you could tell that much.

Pscyhology of windows

I am getting carried away: I always liked windows, was planning to do a series of bijoux with windows, plus with this apartment search now I am thinking about natural light a lot...

So here we go again!

When I told my mom about some of the apartments I saw & hated, or saw & loved, based on the view they had, she said: "But let's face it: how often are you going to be looking out of the window?"

Ok, that might be true for some people, but as long as I know it's there (or not) it either bothers & frustrates me, or makes me happy.

So, is your mental happiness worth an extra hundreed dollars?

2 surprises in 1

Another Russian painter, Serov. The only painting I remember seeing all throughout my childhood was that of Lenin.

This is yet of another historical figure. Now, does that look like a man or a woman to you? Had I not asked, you'd most probably think it's a woman. But no, it's a man. And on top of that a famous one.

A tip: who was it that wanted to open a window to Europe?

Yep, this is Peter the Great himself at his house aptly called Monplaisir.

I think there's a problem with scale here: Peter the Great was also Peter the Tall - 2m.4cm, I believe.

Surprising windows

Would you ever guess that?

The first painting is by a Russian artist, Korovin (I am thinking of using it for my 'cross-pollination' series, Russian-French especially).

The second view is even more surprising: Egon Schiele. Who would've thought!

On winning a lottery

Teaching (or studying) a foreign language, whenever you happen to drill hypothetical question, you often come across this one: "What would you do if you won the lottery?"

Well, I would get all my friends together and propose that we start a crazy company, multifaceted business of strictly non homogeneous nature: everybody does what he/she always dreamt of doing but could never put into practice because of the lack of time, money, etc.

And that's us on the picture above, writing our Declaration of Independence of Reason.

Not my style, but

the light is right & the table is similar to the one i just described...
Still, Morisot is too sweet & romantic for my taste.

Healthy, natural kitchen light

Well, what do you know?
I thought a quieter, suburban-looking street was not 'up my alley', and yet I loved the house (inside). And when I got back there to look at another apartment, I had to admit that I would probably go with an apartment that had a bigger...kitchen!

I am still torn between the two apartments: one has more natural light & bigger rooms, but the second one has a nuc, a generous space to put a table, chairs & have meals facing the garden.

When asked if I like to cook, I always answer negatively but then add: "But I love to cook for my friends".
So I guess that choosing a bigger kitchen over more light means that my friends presence around my table will mean even brighter light, inside & out.

Shopaholic: things just love me & offer themselves for free!

The ''aholic'' part would be even more appropriate in this particular case...except for I didn't buy the vintage Italian 'thing' above.
I was going home after a good bear & an even better conversation with my ex Professor... and I stumbled upon this, sitting quietly by a parked car, waiting for me.
So I had to take it home and boooy, it was one heavy load to carry!!!

A note to myself: I should spend more time in sunny hot gardens in great company with a drink. Relaxing is good, once in a while...

This is definitely me

Admiring the Italian copies at the Pushkin Museum in Moscow, circa 1986.

This - pensive & respectful & thoughtful attitude confronted with art - is definitely me.

Russian literatue is art, too. But it's not my cup of tea.

Nao e' a minha praia....

By the way, I saw a cartoon strip years ago that showed a girl on a beach reading a big fat book and a sign above her head: "Reading Dostoevsky on the beach is prohibited".

Is it really in my blood?

Are Mayakovsky & Pushkin in my blood, part of the 'fatherly' milk, my DNA?

Hmm, I have my doubts!

Book (like in 'reading') Favela Tour!

Welcome to my own unique & unforgettable Book Favela!

I specifically bought the 'tower'-style bookshelf hoping to keep there 'work in progress', books I was in the process of reading (for I never read just one book).

But of course it didn't work out, because I like to keep books next to my bed (that's why I say that I love going to bed with the French...philosophers).

I went out on a date with a guy in Sao Paulo. Very intelligent (but intelligence is not all, not even for me) & when we were discussing the reading question, he told me that this little 'towers' by my bed, his brother used to call the similar process at his place 'favelizacao', basically slum-building, piling up.

And occasionally this slums would fall down. And you'd see some long-forgotten book that happened to be buried underneath...

Anyhow, I no longer have the apartment you see in this photos. The chic place I live in now is not mine & you can tell this right away - the bookshelfs are scary - totally empty!!!

"And the vodka flowed slowly": for Fernando

The title above was that of a textbook on Russian literature I saw in Washington DC years ago (for those who cannot read Cyrilics, the textbook above is NOT it).

Everyone loves Russian authors.

Unless you are Russian yourself, you find this soul-searching deep, profound, wonderful.

Russians find it 'heavy'.

When you live in the midst of a heavy reality, you simply want to escape. You want some light, some silly hope. You want to think a bit less, maybe.

Anyhow, it's long story. Better to talk about it live, ok?

Ricardo, the 'love elephant'

Fruitfull research today. Found plenty of sinners & the strangest elephant I've seen in my life so far, taken from a "Simple medicine book" by Testard.

I am still to find out what is elephant's curative power exactly.

As for me & Ricardo, it's a symbolic pet of our friendship.

I love elephants now because I love you, Rica!

Hmm, I guess someone gave me a love potion to drink a couple of years ago & I still haven't recovered....and I don't want to!

Let me be in love with my friends!

Prudish drunkards

On sins & drinking (very appropriate, I am off to meet my dear friend, my ex professor of advertising, for a beer later on).

And on attention to detail, yet once again today: I've never come accross a painting very someone's actually holding a loin cloth, making sure it's in place & covers what it's supposed to cover.

Coverage provided by Giovanni Bellini.

...while virtues are boooring

Easy to see why I wouldn't approve of something like this. Not even on moral (or immoral?) grounds, but also because it's so unappealing visually, without salt & spice & anything nice.
Or rather: it's all so nice & sweet & pretty & simmetrical that I feel bored.

Hmmm, I am in a sinful mood.
Thank you, Giotto!

My sins are so pretty!

Wow! I feel like a Saint who wants to be a sinner & show it to the World!

And I am not the only one who likes this kind of black humor - Gloria, a te!