I started learning to meditate this week, and the book suggested picturing yourself somewhere where you feel calmest. I like to think of this image by Wayne Levin.
Jo Goddard has a great guide to outsourcing your life if you live in a city. I use a handful of these services pretty regularly.
I bought one of these as a new go-to dress for airplane travel.
Did not buy this, but if I saw someone wearing it I’d assume they were my people.
This would be cute for Valentine’s Day in pink, and it’s on sale too.
Simple genius idea for freezing bacon portions.
I’m looking at baby stuff and love this clever wooden magnetized toy.
Necklaces that pay homage to your true loves.
Grapefruit is my favorite booze flavor, and I just read about this grapefruit liquor, have you tried it?
On perfectionism: Artist Pierre Bonnard once convinced his friend Edouard Vuillard to distract a museum guard while he touched up one of his paintings hanging there. Been there, Pierre.
There are upsides to being single on Valentine’s Day. No bullshit underwear, and you get to pick your own present.
Heartbeats Necklaces, $55
Damn right you like the life you live.
Guest Toothbrush Set, $12
You burn Palo Santo to clear bad juju, create space for good luck, and invite something new. Say, here comes something new right now. Good thing you have a spare toothbrush.
Bartleby Shirt, $15
You’re not picky, you’re particular.
Delivered to your doorstep 12 times a year. Service.
Ebony Corkscrew, $24
A grown-up corkscrew to go with the very expensive wine you’ll be enjoying tonight.
No pants, my friend. No pants alllll day long.
Oof. One of the best imaginations of our generation. Miranda July has a gift for expressing loneliness, and the desperation in searching for connection when your brain seems so singular.
Miranda July, it’s such a comfort that you make things. Thanks.
Excerpts from The First Bad Man:
She gave me a betrayed look, because she’s a working mom, feminism, etc. I gave her the same look back, because I’m a woman in a senior position, she’s taking advantage, feminism, etc. She bowed her head slightly.
Then I realized we all think we might be terrible people. But we only reveal this before we ask someone to love us. It is a kind of undressing.
He cleared his throat, then was silent. Maybe he wouldn’t say anything, which is the worst thing men do.
I flitted around the city, either turning heads or else walking by heads just as they were turning.
Sometimes I looked at her sleeping face, the living flesh of it, and was overwhelmed by how precarious it was to love a living thing. She could die simply from lack of water. It hardly seemed safer than falling in love with a plant.
It won’t make sense until you’ve read the book, but once you have, visit The First Bad Man store, with auction proceeds going to The National Partnership for Women and Families.
Also, old related post: Learning to Love You More, Assignment #9.
My friend Michelle Morrison is an artist who specializes in what she calls “Nudie Judies.” I adore them. When she posted the one above, I joked that I wanted her to add a belly so I could say it was me pregnant.
Instead, she drew a pregnancy portrait just for me. I’m an official Nudie Judy!
I’m excited, and also so touched. Thank you, Michelle.
You’ll find more of Michelle’s work for purchase at her portfolio site Michelephant.com. I’m not sure if she takes commissions, but if you’d like to be a Judy too, it couldn’t hurt to ask.
Tokens of affection for your beloveds.
Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair, by Pablo Neruda, $12
The Cap of Courage, $58
Burroughs Beard Oil, $28
You’ll find more gift ideas on my Gift Guide | Valentine’s Day board.
Station Eleven is set in a post-epidemic landscape, with 99 percent of the population having been wiped out. My favorite part:
Toward the end of his second decade in the airport, Clark was thinking about how lucky he’d been. Not just the mere fact of survival, which was of course remarkable in and of itself, but to have seen one world end and another begin. And not just to have seen the remembered splendors of the former world, the space shuttles and the electrical grid and the amplified guitars, the computers that could be held in the palm of a hand and the high-speed trains between cities, but to have lived among those wonders for so long. To have dwelt in that spectacular world for fifty-one years of his life. Sometimes he lay awake in Concourse B of the Severn City Airport and thought, “I was there,” and the thought pierced him through with an admixture of sadness and exhilaration.
Reminds me of the Louis CK bit on cell phones and flying.