love, briana

2010-11-06T17:17:00.000-07:00

in love

2010-11-05T17:15:00.000-07:00

Martin Wolf

2010-11-04T05:42:00.000-07:00

available at Roseark Gallery

Matther Heller

2010-11-03T05:41:00.000-07:00

kelsey

2010-11-02T05:00:00.000-07:00

photography: Chadwick Tyler

lindsey hoover

2010-11-01T05:05:00.000-07:00

photography by chadwick tyler

Happy November

2010-11-01T05:02:00.000-07:00

David Michael Kennedy & Northern Pueblo dancers

2010-11-01T04:59:00.000-07:00

http://www.davidmichaelkennedy.com/

will never get over Dior F/W 2010

2010-11-01T04:20:00.000-07:00

backstage @ John Galliano

2010-10-26T09:30:00.000-07:00

2010-10-09T20:45:00.000-07:00

2010-10-09T20:38:00.000-07:00

2010-09-29T20:22:00.001-07:00

Dash Snow

2010-05-23T22:12:00.000-07:00

Archer Hairline

2010-05-10T03:29:00.001-07:00

Found this fun little link through Britt Browne. Be sure to watch the whole intro video!! http://www.pentagram.com/what-type-are-you/

unbelievable

2010-05-10T02:44:00.000-07:00

LAURA JANE'S "HELLO"

Spring Design

2010-04-23T16:44:00.000-07:00

Bryce and I completed a new spring design up at Wild Oak today...

'07 Alex Wang shoot

2010-02-02T20:55:00.001-08:00

feelin it...

sunday

2010-01-17T19:33:00.001-08:00

rainy days make you feel mauve about it all. kind of nice.

image via tumblr

colors one

2010-01-15T13:49:00.001-08:00

images via ffffound

space one

2010-01-15T13:23:00.000-08:00

Images: unknown

2010-01-14T20:05:00.001-08:00

rare rose

2010-01-05T04:00:00.000-08:00

image credit: via ffffound, and through some chance research...pillow available at urban outfitters

shall we float or sail?

2010-01-04T04:00:00.000-08:00

Nothing beats a Sunday filled with pale contentment, Air, leather butterflies, vanilla waffle cookies, and a found couch. Lends its way towards a honeyed Monday.

image credit: Tim Walker

now you see her, now you don't

2010-01-01T04:00:00.000-08:00

I consumed not one, not two, not three, but four salted chocolate caramels to ring in the new year along with the sounds from my Royal Quiet De Luxe. This portrait reminds me of Clemence, Royal's heroine. Wish I knew where it came from.
I feel quite relieved to have this apartment that shelters this typewriter and its thoughts. I feel to the world outside 2010 will be a case of, "Now you see her, now you don't." But there is a world being conceived with each clack and in this light, this world, my attendance has never been so perfect. A world where the undefined defines good and evil, beauty and facade, sagacity and unquestioned truths. Burn that amber incense and drink to secrets worth repeating.

Happy New Year.

image credit: unknown

"Call me Ishmael"

2009-12-31T04:00:00.000-08:00

I've been writing and deleting for quite some minutes now, hours perhaps, thinking of the best way to ring in the last day of '09 with you. I've decided it should be summed up with Moby Dick, or Mocha Dick depending on the year you were born (in the late 1830s Mocha Dick was a real life albino sperm whale that put the fear of the devil, shall we say, in those that were alive to read the news blurbs including Herman Melville, hence one integer in the Moby Dick equation).

I've been incredibly sick for the past two and a half weeks and that coupled with the end of a year has got me thinking about where I direct that majority of my energy and what kind of energy I am directing in the first place. You read about Ahab and his singular quest to slaughter Moby Dick, you watch The Cove and the fisherman's quest in Japan to slaughter 23,000 dolphins and porpoises a year just to fake out consumers with ridiculously mercury-ridden dolphin- I mean "whale meat" -and preserve a dependency and their hierarchy facade, and you read about the Christmas Day Detroit plan and it's hard, impossible really, to not let that idiotic, blind-sighted determination seep into your blood. Tunnel vision is something that makes the world spin round and unfortunately those that have it are those that end up corrupting all the small pictures that make up the big one.
I saw an advertisement for the G8 Summit clearly titled "Hopenhagen" the same day the conference ended and the word on the NPR street was that it was all a bunch of ruffled feathers blowing in the wind with every plan under the sun, but no purpose. Where/what is our energy made from, inspired by, and carried out from?
And to answer that, you need to answer your own. That is all you can do. Each day, every day. We all know this and we all wake up forgetting it. Perhaps if we all set an alarm for every hour (which would ring no more than the amount of Tweets and Facebook updates we confirm we want to receive) with that simple question as a reminder we could remember to do the best we could as often as we could. I feel a little guilty at the moment for sounding a bit like Debbie Downer, but that's just it. Don't you see. The energy that surrounds this topic is like a swamp-scape of taxes or death. It doesn't have to be that way. We don't have feel guilty or rip of a band aid whenever we face the truth of the world.
If we all took that energy, that determination, which is there just simply being in all of us, that peace in our core, that strength in our muscles, that inevitable love and mystery within our soul and owned our greatness of self, our beauty of self, solely, remotely, and apart from all others we will make Galileo spin on his ankles from the acute reflection and luminosity we refract from the sun.
You are beautiful. You are the answer. You are the mystery. You are needed.
You are loved for who you are, for what you've done, and for everything you haven't done but hold inside you. The definition of the actions are obsolete actually, it doesn't matter. For all we know you are undefinable. But you, being you, every minute of every day. You with your curiosity, your story, your inspirations, your passions, your secrets and revealings, your owning of yourself...that would truly be a New Year's gift to yourself.
As well as the world.

Happy last day of 2009.

all photos from: "To produce a mighty book, you must choose a mighty theme." via www.butdoesitfloat.com

A Fox Was Here

2009-12-30T09:43:00.000-08:00

I just scrolled through my 09 blog posts and realized how faint its ink stain has been. To be perfectly honest I feel as though I have given myself to love & loss of love for the past eleven years and have not quite nurtured my own heart and soul. That is NOT to say I would have had it any other way. I am learning a lot about myself and in that I am learning that I learn best through love. It is just that the past eleven years have revolved around two others (well, perhaps three) I can see clearly how I have only recently come to a place of simply loving myself and finding my peace and growing self-sufficiently. It is beautiful, it is lonely, and it is welcomed with open arms.

However it is not as lovely to have not posted anything on A Fox Was Here or Silver Shadow!! I'm sure you don't even know what I'm talking about! Unfortunatley I have a bit of a headache this morning so I'm going to cut to the punch...Here are my inspirations and photos from my latest art piece in Roseark! xxx

A Fox Was Here: Back in September I was asked to do a piece as part of VOGUE's Fashion's Night Out to be displayed in Roseark. I hand knotted chain and silk thread below a piece of driftwood collected from Big Sur. The piece explores the destruction of feathers, the healing of sage, and the magic of dream catchers.

Image credits: top 2 images via ffffound!, A Fox Was Here copyright Briana Horne 2009; available at Roseark, $3700.00

Ashes and Snow

2009-12-29T20:08:00.000-08:00

My mother and I had a recent conversation about our common desire to "mommy" orphaned elephants in Africa. She just finished a book revolving around the subject and just yesterday I watched the 1969 film "An Elephant Called Slowly" about an English couple adopted by/adopting (it's hard to tell) a baby elephant named Poli-Poli, or Slowly-Slowly. It is an amazingly lovely film...
All of which got me thinking about Gregory Colbert's Ashes and Snow Exhibit. I am sure you know of it and know of its beauty. I remember seeing it years ago at the Santa Monica pier and before that in New York. Just can't get enough!! Below is a little piece about the process & vision as proof of its candor and greatness as an unsolicited documentation of beauty

"The Ashes and Snow exhibition includes more than 50 large-scale photographic artworks, a one-hour film, and two short film "haikus". None of the images have been digitally collaged or superimposed. They record what the artist himself saw through the lens of his camera. While Colbert uses both still and movie cameras, the images are not stills from the film.

The animal subjects of the photographs and films include interactions with both wild animals and also those that have been habituated to human contact.

These mixed media photographic works marry umber and sepia tones in a distinctive encaustic process on handmade Japanese paper. The artworks, each approximately seven feet by twelve feet, are mounted without explanatory text so as to encourage an open-ended interaction with the images."

I will be doing some research in what we can do on this continent (at least until I can go elsewhere for some one-on-one time) to help orphaned elephants (and whales, and seahorses, and hawks, and rain forests, and....) in general and I'll get back to you!! Until then, enjoy!

all images by Gregory Colbert via www.ashesandsnow.org

Chapter 47

2009-12-27T02:49:00.000-08:00

"Blackberries.
Nothing, not mushrooms, not ferns, not moss, not melancholy, nothing grew more vigorously, more intractably in the Puget Sound rains than blackberries. Farmers had to bulldoze them out of their fields. Home-owners dug and chopped, and still they came back. Park attendants with flame throwers held them off at the gates. Even downtown, a lot left untended for a season would be overgrown. In the wet months, blackberries spread so wildly, so rapidly that dogs and small children were sometimes engulfed and never heard from again. In the peak of the season, even adults dared not go berry picking without a military escort. Blackberry vines pushed up through solid concrete, forced their way into polite society, entwined the legs of virgins, and tried to loop themselves over passing clouds. The aggression, speed, roughness, and nervy upward mobility of blackberries symbolized for Max and Tilli everything they disliked about America, especially its frontier.
Bernard Mickey Wrangle took a yum approach.
To the King, during tea, Bernard had advocated the planting of blackberries on every building top in Seattle. They would require no care, aside from encouraging them, arborlike, to crisscross the streets, roof to roof; to arch, forming canopies, natural arcades, as it were. In no time at all, people could walk through the city in the dounpouringest of winter and feel not a splat. Every shopper, every theater-goer, every cop on the beat, every snoozing bum would be snug and dry. The pale green illumination that filtered through the dome of vines could inspire a whole new school of painting: centuries from now art critics might speak, as of chiaroscuro, of "blackberry light." The vines would attract birds. Woodpeckers might not bother, but many birds would. The birds would sing. A bird full of berry pulp is like an Italian full of pathos. Small animals might move into the arches. "Look, Billy, up there, over the Dental Building. A badger!" And the fruit, mustn't forget the fruit. It would nourish the hungry, stabilize the poor. The more enterprising winos could distill their own spirits. Seattle would become the Blackberry Brandy Capitol of the World. Tourists would spend millions annually on Seattle blackberry pies, the discerning toast of the nation would demand to be spread with Seattle blackberry jam. The chefs at the French restaurants would dish up duck in purplish sauces, fill once rained-on noses with the baking aromas of gateau mure de ronce. The whores might become known, affectionately, as blackberry tarts. The Teamsters could try to organize the berry pickers. And in late summer, when the brambles were proliferating madly, growing faster than the human eye can see, the energy of their furious growth could be hooked up to generators that, spinning with blackberry power, could supply electrical current for the entire metropolis. A vegetative utopia, that's what it would be. Seattle, Berry Town, encapsulated, self-sufficient, thriving under a living ceiling, blossoms in its hair, juice on its chin, more blackberries-and more!-in its future. Consider the protection offered. What enemy paratroopers could get through the briars?
The King's heart had rattled like the spook chains in a horror show. Trembling, he had changed the subject to basketball.
"Oh-Oh, spaghetti-o," muttered Tilli under her breath.
Had the ink remained upright in its bottle, had the carpet's innocence been preserved, it was still doubtful if Bernard would have been invited back to the palace.
Now, following Chihuahua slaughter and publicized arrest, it was futile for Leigh-Cheri to expect sympathy from her parents, let alone help. She wept against Gulietta's bricklike breasts. And when the tear barrel was finally empty and every available frog had been consulted, she made-up, dressed-up, and caught a bus into town. She was going to keep her appointment with Bernard's attorney. She was embracing the blackberry as her emblem, her symbol, her exemplar, her muse. In other words, she would persist to the wildest lengths of persistence. She was going to blackberry her way to her man." -Tom Robbins, Still Life with Woodpecker

Study of Love #6

2009-12-26T08:05:00.001-08:00

Artwork: copyright Briana Horne 2009

Happy Holidays!

2009-12-25T12:30:00.000-08:00

peppermint, crumpled paper, hasty love notes, extra cinnamon, extra dashes of brandy, longer hugs, double the kisses, louder laughs, red-handed smiles, we, love, merry, and cheer

"There are essential and inessential insanities.
The latter are solar in character, the former are linked to the moon.
Inessential insanities are a brittle amalgamation of ambition, agression, and pre-adolescent anxiety--garbage that should have been dumped long ago. Essential insanities are those impulses one instinctively senses are virtuous and correct, even though peers may reguard them as coo coo.
Inessential insanities get one in trouble with oneself. Essential insanities get one in trouble with others. It's always preferable to be in trouble with others. In fact, it may be essential.
Poetry, the best of it, is lunar and is concerned with the essential insanities. Journalism is solar (there are numerous newspapers named The Sun, non called The Moon) and is devoted to the inessential.
About Leigh-Cherie, it would have made more sense to write a poem than an article. Reed Jarvis, with his Remington SL3, wrote an article. Others would follow. It remained for Bernard Mickey Wrangle, with his dynamite, to write a poem." -Tom Robbins, Still Life with Woodpecker: Ch. 32

photo: via ilovelolliblog

in love with

2009-12-22T13:50:00.000-08:00

lisa mann dirkes artwork.

via Shabby Chic blog and available at Shabby Chic locations!

Rabbit Holes

2009-12-20T20:29:00.000-08:00

Patricia Von Ah has completed one of the most beautiful series of photographs I have ever seen on rabbit holes. Please check out her site here: http://www.patriciavonah.com. I am so inspired. If you find yourself in London, check out her show at Colonnade Gallery-Sothebys.

So there's only one thing left so do for you know who!

Study of Love #5

2009-12-20T12:24:00.000-08:00

Artwork: Copyright Briana Horne 2009

Mt. Erebus, Antartica

2009-12-19T21:40:00.001-08:00

Been pretty obsessed with Darwin and his armada recently (the book is fantastic as well, by Iain McCalman) so one night I painted the Mt. Erebus experience off Hooker's 1846-50 Ross Expedition. My first ever anything that looks kind of like it could be something. Quite exciting!! Watercolor on cardboard.

Artwork: Copyright Briana Horne 2009

Study of Love #1

2009-12-19T21:13:00.000-08:00

Artwork: Copyright Briana Horne 2009

2 of 12

2009-12-19T18:02:00.000-08:00

There have been weeks, months, perhaps years within my recent hibernation that have clung to my soul with desperation and doubt, with panic and pain in a half-mast question towards a life as an artist. I don't know if one can ever truly believe in reality for there is too much within a soul that cannot be openly and outwardly expressed in a lifetime. What a shame that would be if it was indeed the case. No, your heart and your soul are more grand than physicalities and manifestations. So then, wash your hands of the fears and the doubts and the successes and misfortunes and find solace solely in your truths, your beauty, and those within everyone you see and don't see.

I have spent the past seven hours painting- content, peaceful, and in love with my truths. All i know is that at some point between yesterday evening and my rise this morning a spectacular gust blew ashore and calmed my heart.

I've begun an art series titled "A Study of Love" which will consist of at least dozen 5x7 watercolors.

I've begun collecting flower petals on walks again, singing the high notes, and sleeping under a canopy of twinkle lit bouquets. Boy, am I in love.

Photos: a John Derian rose

secret meeting in the basement of my brain

2009-12-08T20:58:00.000-08:00

feeling a little mechanical and thin right now. obviously listening to the national. these struck my fancy and gave me a little watering. all via fffffound. i've had "become and aeronaut" on my to do list for years.

did you see the moon last night? kind of creepy/comforting to think that whatever your answer, it saw you. it's an interesting thought...the bits that are both creepy and comforting. watching would be the most obvious, She would be the least.

inquiries into contrast & the beauty of simplicity

2009-12-07T09:43:00.000-08:00

contrast

2009-12-07T08:20:00.000-08:00

Most probably see this and are comforted by the bright bluntless of the one and only word that holds the world and its meaning on the tip of your soul. Let's also begin to find comfort in the contrast. The the darkness behind that allows for such a beauty to glow. "The soul would have no rainbow if the eyes had no tears." -old Native American saying.

Greek Computations dating 12-1500 mainly relating the solar, lunar, and planetary positions and eclipses of the sun and moon

2009-09-16T19:06:00.000-07:00

Hendricks

2009-07-17T09:48:00.001-07:00

The secret to the rogue's gallery of botanicals instilled in this gin:
"First is a lovely hint of Bulgarian Rose, which is extracted by gently pressing essential oils from the petals. Next comes the coup de grace — Cucumber, the essence of which is obtained by mashing the fresh fruit, then mixing the pulp with cold water."

Really?

Brompton Borders, London

2009-05-21T10:39:00.001-07:00

Brompton Borders cultural program studies the pioneering horticulturalist Gertrude Jekyll and her work influenced by the arts and craft movement. Throughout Brompton are secret gardens in odd places hoping to reflect upon the healing powers of living things as well as the importance of your thought a garden inflicts on you as opposed to its content. What a lovely exhibit!

all images and information available at bromptondesigndistrict.com

Tim Walker @ the Design Museum, London

2009-05-17T13:27:00.000-07:00

always and forever he sparks my soul

Live Blood Analysis

2009-01-29T13:09:00.000-08:00

Last night the boy and I attended a live blood analysis lecture in an artist's studio on Sunset & Cahuenga. Just before I had cooked up some brown jasmine rice with zucchini, brussels sprouts, yellow bell pepper, rosemary, raisins, and pine nuts. On the way there I drank my freshly brewed fresh ginger tea with a bit of honey and milk.
Mid-lecture I stopped drinking my tea. And post lecture I threw it out. And now I have a headache and a furrowed brow.

I don't really know how to begin to explain the what I witnessed last night, which itself was only a 2 hour beginning to a prehistoric process of understanding.

Essentially, we learned the effects that mental, nutritional, and environmental stresses take on our blood. And coming from the standpoint of our blood:human being soil:farmer we learned how to compare healthy individual blood cells: their shape, their movement, their transparency to unhealthy ones. It is AMAZING! Hormonal imbalances, yeast, premature aging, digestion, liver function etc all change the way a blood cell looks. And when you learn how to detect which is which (which is not hard to do...some form crystals, some roll on top of each other, some stretch to ovals, some grow spikes...it is OBVIOUS characteristic deformations) you can then see the potential/current diseases.

From there, after assessing the "terrain" of your blood, the idea is to adjust your nutrition and emotional stresses and make it as pure as possible, allowing for a stress free and there for sick free and energized lifestyle. This then relates to the whole theory of catering to homeostasis ph level of 7.365. Choosing a more alkaline diet creates healthier blood cells and muscular white cells.

I highly recommend further research if you are interested. There are ph food charts available on the Internet. I've only had green tea today(as opposed to my 4 cups of black)...without milk and honey. I don't know how much I'll be able to withstand, but being aware, and making an informed choice is usually the better policy...so why not learn a little more! Some charts even contain the food's ph levels. Lemons are +9.9 so pucker up and squeeze them over everything instead of salt!

xxxxx

Up Up and Away....

2009-01-27T13:26:00.000-08:00

I have been consistently switching back and forth between doing a lot of something or doing a lot of nothing since the holidays. Both of which equated to more behind the scenes work than usual.

I am knotting dream catchers and sewing medicine bags and studying crystal therapy and re-learning computer programming and calculating taxes and calculating prices for product and stitching cotton clouds and designing business cards and setting up photoshoots and hiking and grilling and loving and listing lb priorities and reading Tom Robbins and most importantly...thanking Laura Jane for my final logo design!!!

Though I am not yet announcing it's launch, the site is 90% complete and as part of my New Year's Resolution I am going to smile and love and appreciate the work/love that I and others have put into it (usually I tend to only appreciate the others).

Below is the final home page with logo :) HIP HIP HOORAY for WWW.LOVE-BRIANA.COM!!

love, briana

sigh

2009-01-08T07:47:00.001-08:00

It has been too long. And, in keeping with my top new year's resolution of not being too hard on myself to ensure a pure mindset and bountiful creativity, I wish to share this picture I found on Snippet & Ink.

I will write back soon!
x

Love, Briana: Black Knight Lariat

2008-12-11T14:07:00.000-08:00

I hand-knotted this based on a belt that Rose did. It is made with silk/linen & suede; decorated with black beads. Took me hours on end but it's amazing a quite long.

Salton Sea

2008-12-09T22:58:00.000-08:00

I stumbled across James Carriere's Salton Sea photography and have been completely humbled by the hues.

I wish my mind was this calm. This first one reminds me of a sifted Rothko horizon.

Design & Decor: Bailey's Home

2008-12-09T09:34:00.000-08:00

Awhile back I purchased Recycled Home, by Mark and Sally Bailey and I haven't stopped thinking about it...and by awhile back I mean maybe 6 months ago. I have been obsessed since I opened it and thought I owed a bit of love to it. It is filled to the brim with distressed walls, battered woodwork, natural hues, and airy spaces!
Click here if you would like to purchase a copy. I highly recommend it!

In an interview wirh Charlotte Abrahams for The Guardian, Mark explained the love and a bit of the process...

"'I prefer things to be worn and lived-in,' says Mark, 'and Sally goes along with me. I love things that are well made and have some integrity, honesty and heritage. The challenge for us is to find new uses for the things I buy. At the moment I'm making lamps out of wooden cogs and bobbins, and we use old fruit crates as storage and shelving.'
Ah yes, the wooden fruit crates. The Baileys don't just use them at home, they sell them, too, through their salvagey interiors firm, Baileys Home And Garden. In the past 18 months they've sold 2,000 of them at £16 a crate but Mark is quick to counter charges that they're exploiting wealthy urbanites searching for a bit of shabby vintage chic. 'It's not easy money,' he says. 'We have to pick the crates up from a farm in Lincolnshire - that's a 400-mile round trip - then disinfect, pressure-wash and repair them.'"

Now, at the moment I happen to be quite tight in the wallet, but no matter how thick or thin it may be, I completely value and respect and would buy if I could a dozen of those crates. It seems as though art is really the only thing holding up with that integrity of the process these days. And I am sure, even now that is waning a bit. Those headbands I showed you, well the Sparkling Magic in particular, take a long while to make and it always kills me when someone sees them and says "Oh wow!! That's is sooo incredibly beautiful! Could I buy that from you for...(insert incredibly small amount of change here)"

I am not upset with them, we live in a day to day that does not really consist of handmade anymore. And on top of that, with my pieces at least, I would much prefer to make that product I love and believe in, even if it takes me half a day - a day to make as opposed to 50 things I could pump out in one day. Not one is better than the other, this is just what I prefer to make, and to be honest I try to think of those things to! The hard part is finding the respect for it out there in the world.
Wow, sorry. That was a bit of a rant.
All that being said, if you go to their online shop (www.baileyshome.com) you will see some pieces for fantastic prices and thensome!!!!

Comment Section

2008-12-09T09:32:00.000-08:00

For some reason I am not able to comment back on your comments. I must be overlooking a setting, but please know that I soooo appreciate it and I have tried to comment back numerous times and just can't. It does not publish what I write!
I will say thank you to Amy Ross and Laura Jane. Your words are soo lovely to hear and I admire you guys soo much!!

xxx

Love, Briana: soiree headbands!!

2008-12-04T07:47:00.000-08:00

Yup, these are my favorite 3 so far... Everything that is a natural product passed away naturally including the feathers, so don't worry. I get my feathers in LA from Necromance, a lovely & wonderful place to rummage around in. I will definitely do a silhouette on them later for all you out-of-towners. Their feather supplier is a lady who runs a bird farm. She collects the fallen feathers and makes a side profit out of selling them to fly-fishing tackle people & Necromance. Every so often I stop myself and smile with the thought that some of my days revolve around seahorses and feathers.

Sparkling Black Magic Headband

Double Trouble Black Magic Headband

The Vapors Headband

Artist: Amy Ross

2008-12-03T09:15:00.000-08:00

Goose Magnolia

Rabbit Magnolia

Gullshroom

Fancypants Shroom

She Wolf Series Number 8

Amy Ross' work is quite whimsical a lovely. My favorites are Rabbit Magnolia and Fancypants Shroom.
Please check out her blog Nature Morph and site! I always enjoy seeing inspirations and days in the life of with artists. I think mine would consist of a bunch of tea spills, piles of feathers, suede, and glitter. Hers seems a bit more focused.

Odetta

2008-12-03T08:13:00.000-08:00

Odetta died Tuesday due to heart disease. She was 77 years old.

If you haven't heard the magic & healing of her voice or would like to find out a little more of her story go here to watch an amazing video.

She has an amazing deep and soothing voice that rang with American folk and Civil Rights Movement songs. She inspired Bob Dylan to buy his first acoustic and Brice Springteen to take on some of the songs he did along with Joan Baez, Janis Joplin, and Rosa Parks.

And for all you Vaud and the Villianers out there, you will recognize some of those songs in the video link.

xxx
(picture taken from Mountain Stage)

new & improved!

2008-12-02T18:36:00.000-08:00

Okay Lovelies!

The time has come and i have re-organized the blog to bring you the latest and greatest.

Here is the new schedule(the foundation anyway, lord knows my mind will babble outside of these things) so be sure to pop in on your favorite days or subscribe to the blog and be a part of our community every day!

Monday: STYLE - fashion, trends, gadgets, beauty...etc.
Tuesday: DESIGN - interiors, exteriors, architecture, cityscapes...etc
Wednesday: ART- artists of all mediums, galleries, exhibits...etc.
Thursday: LOVE, BRIANA updates
Friday: free writing day for me = surprise for you! yipee!

Also, January 1st will kick off my monthly "Silhouette Project." Which means that once a month I will profile a person (artist, actor, designer, rocket scientist...) and we'll learn about their inspiration, hopes, dreams, deepest darkest secrets, and what makes them tick-tock.

Stay tuned!!

Epithelium

2008-12-02T10:11:00.000-08:00

I don't know why, but I have been very taken by wedding blogs lately. Obviously I am a sucker for love and romance, smiles, flowers, cupcakes, horses, rain...etc. Okay, perhaps I understand now.

I stayed in bed a bit longer this morning. Today is Nana's birthday. She would have been 77...is that right?? Wow! I miss her. I was a bit wide-eyed and blue so I let myself feel it and then feel the love.

I made my tea and sat down to catch up on all these lovely blogs of people and artists, as I do, and came across this poem on Peonies & Polaroids that was read at her wedding. I immediately started crying, for Nana, for love, for the hope of a really warm future. I have never been one to fuss over a future wedding, but the thought of a forever love melts my heart....

This is your new garden, a whole wide
World of it, so green and songbird fresh
All yours to map and fill with luminous
Constellations of fruit and berry blossoms

This is your new garden, tend it as if
All the young shoots that promise
A succulent harvest of root and ear
Will be young and tender for all time

This is your garden, there will always be
Much hoeing and raking, the clearing
of weeds and sowing of seeds will ask
patience, attention, forgiving laughter

This is the garden you will want to live in, it’s not
all sunshine – there’s moonshine too, all earth
needs storms, but when the dark clouds peel back,
see your garden bloom into a universe of stars.

Epithelium, by Aonghas MacNeacail.

(Sigh). It's that last stanza.

flight

2008-12-01T09:36:00.000-08:00

here is the latest piece in full. :) i wish i had more to say, but i am conjested and coughy and have about 20 billion things on my to do list. i will check in at the end of the day. i can't seem to stop thinking about those ship chandeliers...

art: audrey kawasaki & a tick tock

2008-11-26T19:17:00.000-08:00

In case you haven't heard of her yet, let me introduce you to Audrey Kawasaki. I have been a fan of her work for years and years and years now thanks to Ramie & Heather. She has a great art blog and the most beautiful art you have ever seen. I have yet to get a my hands on a piece of hers...but alas there is good news!

She is considering doing a timed sale of this print titled, "Two Sisters." What this means is that for one hour and one hour only (date & time are yet to be announced) you can click on a link to buy the print and she will make enough, guaranteed. But you can't be a minute too soon or a minute too late.

I'll keep you updated as to when that is and in the meantime you can browse here 'til you're hearts content. x

i love lilac

2008-11-25T21:54:00.000-08:00

getting sleepy. quite the evening for updating a drop of my latest inspirations...i thought i would end it with my favorite flowering branch, lilac.

factory 20

2008-11-25T21:15:00.001-08:00

found a great resource for vintage furniture finds! here's a little sampling...

early 1900s Dutch/American wood workbench

1930s American Primitive steel and wood work table

mid 20th century Bentwood French Cafe chairs

vintage block and tackie sets

1930s-40s fire scorched decanters

factory 20

The Un-Dapperlies: Installment #1

2008-11-25T20:46:00.000-08:00

Here is the first tease to my new book about a made-up, traveling carnival magician who rests his soul in a magic opposite his own, in the most transparent & touchable magic imaginable - true love, of course...

There once was a time when things could only be described with some form of the word: dust. The air was dusty, the era was called The Dustbowl, and the hues of the world were dusty roses, dusty grays, dusty blacks, and dusty dust. It was a time of hardship, a time of toil, and a time when men did what they could to slumber not-so-soundly, but slumber at least as many nights of the week they could. As they said, “desperate times called for desperate measures.” And so believed Mr. Un-Dapperly which is where our story begins, but does not revolve around to be sure!

On one night that seemed like all the other moonless, winter nights Mr. Un-Dapperly found himself beneath a pile of ragged blankets starring cursedly at the stars. Unlike most other men he did not find them becoming in the least. What happily fateful direction had they ever led him? He thought of all those who sailed to great-hood by them, who drew inspiration from them, who prayed to them; men like these he thought petty and hypnotized.

Mr. Un-Dapperly, though never a man of cufflinks and ascots, was a respectable man in his opinion. He held his head high, he patched up his suits, and he took great care of his moustache that pointed east to west. He had made a name for himself across some many towns. His painted sign atop his car read: “Mr. Un-Dapperly: Turning Gray to Green.” Quite clever, he thought and laughed to himself.

Mr. Un-Dapperly had been struck on a whim not much more than a month back. It was as clear as lightning and he acted as fast- to sell all his belongings and become a mobile plant salesmen. His intentions were pure, in his opinion. The country was down on luck at this time, days were overcast, dust storms filled the air, and a penny was as hard to come by as an un-curdled slice of banana cream pie. So, he thought, give them life! Give them plants! But, not just any plants, plants that never died, never faded! Turn your grays to greens! He had a whole pitch, it was magic soil he said. Then, he would hold up his secret weapons…seven snails. He said they were a precious, rare breed…near extention in fact. They turned the soil like none other.

What he didn’t mention was that they were his only family, his only friends. The only creatures in his life that never ran away in the opposite direction.

And then it hit. First the cold winter that the snails couldn’t weather. And second, the newspaper that landed into the hands of everyone he knew and didn’t know with a front page picture of him, paintbrush in hand, painting his plants green.

And now here he lay, alone with the stars and seven snail shells where his family used to live. And for the first time ever seven tears cleansed his dusty cheeks and noticing, he drank his last penny’s drops of moonshine and slumbered as soundly as one can with a broken heart.

Now, in days of hopelessness and sorrow, one can never be certain of fate-full happenings. Whether it was the moonshine or the lamp shine, Mr. Un-Dapperly wasn’t quite certain, but during mid-slumber he dazedly awoke to a dance suspended in air above his lamp. He counted 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 magnificent moths tumbling and circling and swooping and diving perfectly harmonious with one another. This was not the ever so common haphazard jig of a moth he had seen on every other occasion. This was beauty so rare, form so rare. He likened it to a kalidescope’s intentions: calculated and ever-unfolding were these synchronized flyers in the light of his lamp. How magnificent indeed!

El Matador

2008-11-25T20:28:00.000-08:00

It was a 5:30am surprise when I was feeling really black & blue. I am so thankful and grateful to be loved.

This is my little girl. So adorable.

Caroline Swift

2008-11-25T19:36:00.000-08:00

i've been quite enchanted by caroline swift's site( thanks to peonies and polaroids). it is simple. it is beautiful. it seems exactly calculated in her strengths as an artist. i am trying to accomplish this as well for lb.

Above all that though is her amazing talent. These bowls are my favorite.

wish i was her

2008-11-25T19:30:00.000-08:00

Country Living Inspiration

2008-11-25T19:25:00.000-08:00

Images c/o Country Living

2008-11-24T09:15:00.000-08:00

the holidays are here...cider and bare trees, morning laughter, and crackling fires!!!

i found this lovely table decorating idea c/o Min Lilla Veranda.

high-pitched blues

2008-11-13T15:40:00.000-08:00

I've got the high-pitched blues
And the kettle's on
I've got no money in the bank
until Friday comes
I've been workin'
Workin' to save a dollar

I've got these friends of mine
They are all black and blue
They walk with beauty all around
but they don't see to see
I wanna slap 'em
Slap 'em 'til the love flows outa them

I've been pourin whiskey
I've been pourin wine
I've been downin' St. Germain
'Til I forget the time
It doesn't fix it
It don't affix me next to you

I've got this heart of mine
It is all black and blue
I walk with beauty all around
but I don't seem to see
I wanna slap me
Slap me 'til the love flows outa me

xxx

another piece

2008-11-13T15:19:00.001-08:00

title: no more thanksgiving dinners

moto

2008-11-13T15:11:00.000-08:00

there exists one tiny triangle place that makes everything worthwhile.
i recommend the date cake for dessert.

http://www.circa1938.com/

november inspiration

2008-11-13T14:52:00.001-08:00

ink stains, exposed wiring, edison bulbs, creations that look like mistakes, floating, sinking, sketching, blackboards, chicken wire, scalloped tin.

a victorian jacket

2008-10-15T07:57:00.000-07:00

Somewhere in between my love for art neauveau, victorian shoes, the Twilight Saga, and Beatrix Potter has sprouted a minor obsession with the Victorian and Edwardian periods. If you have any great book suggestions relating to history or society life please bring them on. I am already on top of art, architecture, and fashion.
On the soon-to-be love, briana website I will be selling found items...mostly with a wink towards art nouveau and the victorians. This is the first among many to come. Pardon the in-house photo. It was taken with the intention of showing a friend. We are now thinking of patterning it and selling a few exclusives.

I should also admit that I stare at this every night with awe beauty and wonder. It has been quite an inspirating for some of my new pieces. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. It is beautiful! All because of a victorian jacket.

star maker

2008-10-09T18:59:00.001-07:00

i wish, i wish

the lesson

2008-10-02T22:20:00.000-07:00

here is another one i did today.

i have been quite taken by late 19th-early 20th century storybook art.

this one will be for lb keychains.

the winds are a blowin'

2008-10-01T22:03:00.000-07:00

The days have become boozy and bluesy, and though LA is struck with an Indian summer, my mind is in the fall.

So many stories to tell but I think I will stick with one.

Love, Briana has gotten its first bit of investing and we are making it go a long way! Headbands and notecards are being made, the website is coming along (now located at www.love-briana.com), and future plans are being planned and acted upon.

Here is a little taste of the new site. The shoppe experience will look like a gallery of cut out scenes. This lady will probably wear a bracelet!

2008-04-29T10:15:00.000-07:00

2008-02-03T20:44:00.000-08:00

2007-12-24T23:36:00.000-08:00

2007-11-07T11:33:00.000-08:00

We took our East Coast friends to a lavender farm this weekend and guess who we found?

oddities

2007-10-23T03:24:00.000-07:00

i am awake. and that is a bit odd.
i was asleep and now i cannot.

i think i awoke because the moon is so bright tonight. and i got really pissed at it. and then i decided to check on our rabbit and aquatic turtle and get a glass of water and here i am.
what's really happening though is that we are in a funk and that always messes with me and my sleep cycle.

so i supposed that is what i need to deal with in the morning instead of inventing a way to dim the moon.

little afternoon helper

2007-09-27T13:46:00.001-07:00

at emma's birthday bash. quite fun!

2007-09-27T09:00:00.000-07:00

inspiration

2007-09-17T17:31:00.000-07:00

laura jane and i had another whirl of a conversation today. we make quite the equals sign.

i wanted to throw some inspirations out there. these are quite feminine and forgotten which i find to be my most favorite. i plan to carry both in the boutique and can say first hand both are lovely people and companies.

http://www.lulufrost.com/
http://www.ndesamim.com

note: check out british vogue fashion story (party hats)

New and Old

2007-09-16T18:45:00.000-07:00

some new bracelets I started making a couple months ago and forgot about.

They are for sale now. I think they are worth believing in. Quite fragile though. Its a flower made from wood pulp.

Postcards

2007-09-13T22:37:00.001-07:00

Just finished these. Have to go to the post office now see if they officially qualify as postcards.

Allen C. Haskell, Plants & Compliments

2007-09-13T22:07:00.000-07:00

This is a photo of one of his 14 greenhouses.
Allen C. Haskell is my newfound hero. He worked sunrise to sunset on his dream. His dream was his life and the other way around. That is how I want to live mine. I don't want a separation between the two. I believe in building a legacy of greatness. A process which necessitates the intelligence of design and foundation of good. What an accomplishment and goal!
He has done this with humor and family and a bit of whiskey during lunch. And look at the beauty he has created. Among hundreds of other species, he planted 10,000 bulbs of green tulips every year. 10,000! And I think of how much I have procrastinated that one little blanket or journal I have been meaning to make.
Sometimes, or all the time I think is how if should be, you just have to dive right in and do it. And you know what he did with the excess tulips every freakin year because he obviously planted too many? He gave them away to his customers and friends and family. Just a little added love. No strings attached. And the following year he didn't plant any less.

1c flour +2c water + salt + elmers

2007-09-13T21:50:00.000-07:00

Atop and old mirror in Heather's bedroom is a papier mache bat a crack addict made her. It is so beautiful and I wish the story was not as grim and simple as that, but I found it to be incredibly inspiring. And since then I have been exploring the papier mache method. Which brings me to Julie Arkell.
I found out about her art a few years ago at the NY Gift show. She is amazing. Below is a picture of one of her pieces. She doesn't have a website, but if you just google her name you will find enough material and images to last you days!

Almost forgot

2007-09-13T21:42:00.000-07:00

about this blog. I will start again - freshly dedicated.

This is for Laura Jane. Elaboration to come...

Creatures of the Un-lost Plateau

2007-05-05T10:42:00.000-07:00

I have this fear of loosing what once was- and by once was I mean the way of our grandparents and their influential generations: recipies and sayings, outlooks and reactions. They were slower I feel, watched more things, breathed a little deeper and took in the bigger picture.
When I was little and they were a given I used to fear of what once was. It reminded me of their ensuing death or their presently non-living. And now I scramble to preserve the lost and abandoned especially if it is a result of death.
There is a concern for future generations in me. Perhaps this is my internal clock kicking in; the need to preserve, to primally prepare and instill the old love in the next generation.
I should be watching more, listening.
How easy it would be to have one of them on my side. One who has seen all the thoughts and heard all the feelings. So quiet. Reacting so slowly- these creatures, these creations on my un-lost pleateau. Unfortunatlely, as in all great conflicts, their lips are sewn shut, their tummies stuffed with cotton, and in effect they are non-living.
Looks like it is up to you and I, at least according to Darwin.