light feet.

my bday last fall was a day of warmth. a beautiful brunch arranged for me, friends and loved ones around, and a night that turned into soft sleep in a hotel suite. waking up to room service. bliss.

my presents were as warm as the day. a trip to soak in the sun to leave my hectic work behind. my favorite scarf. many more.

and a gift card to a store i love, but realized i had never – no, not ever – bought anything from.

sometimes it is quite strange to note that things slide by you but nevertheless leave a marking: i was quite sure i owned items from there. i had stepped in enough times. the stuff resonated to me. even my friends thought it was a place i frequented...

i made it a point to spend my gift wisely. it proved to be a long endeavor, but finally this spring i managed.

there they were: the softest and lightest pair of shoes. to ease the heaviness of my steps.

moccasins by samuji.

thank you my dears.

moving on.

wrapping a material life in obituaries puts perspective into how things could always be more definite.

at times like these, i can be obstinate in thinking that causally explanatory traces can and must be found before turning pages in my own life. the sort of stories that make sense, have culprits, actions that lead to reactions and a sense that folds neatly into boxes.

my perseverance in trying to find meaningful paths unfolds as an almost infinite understanding that slowly eats me inside leaving behind an echo of a motion fueled only by caring and worrying. overwhelmed, things shut down around my little universe only to whisper in muddled thumps as if reminding me that there is a world outside my preoccupation.

nevertheless, in order to move on, i am trying to learn to live by the surrealism i so dearly embrace otherwise. letting the crickets walk on empty plates.

it takes an eternity to fill a box after box.

it is a relief to realize that unwrapping feels – if only ever so slightly – less of an ordeal.

it all takes time.

beautify.

i have assumed several healthy habits in the past months. without delving too deep into details, i will reveal one  – and the most superficial – of them.

roses.

i have started buying flowers. just because they are beautiful. just for the enjoyment of me, myself and moi.

sure, it is not a spectacular habit by any means. it goes without saying that the other ones are not all that extravagant, either, but that's kinda beside the point.

peonies. vase from habitat.

they make me happy. in an unassuming way, a few fresh blossoms provide a fragile enhancement to the everyday environment where routines and chores dull your mind.

forget me not. i have not forgotten you.

luckily i also found some forget-me-nots at the cottage. my favorites.

i’m in the milky way.

well, i'm not too keen on suggesting summer hits – my psychic predictions are known to stray away by miles. but i think this song by swedish electropop duo icona pop might keep me bouncing a little come warm weather.

simply. i love it.

disruptive pattern material.

the approaching summer has brought the joys of night walks and bike rides through the city. i've strolled and rolled the streets, breathing in the smells and feeling the wind caress my bones with sometimes a stronger chill factor than june would imply.

i've got my hair wet and fallen short when trying to make it pedaling up the hill.

i've walked with a smile on my face with solid – and not-so-solid – ankles.

and i have worn a trusted set of boring old clothes and haphazardly realized my hair has grown. i have also sported an increasing amount of camouflage – i guess a need to blend into my surroundings and disrupt my edges feels more appropriate and sheltering than before.

at some opening at design forum finland with silver wearing old zara trf jacket. (photo timo idänheimo)

good old – and i mean from 2004 – vans slip ons in a limited edition stitched camo and natural rubber.

a camofleur in spring bloom.

sugar rush.

a long-awaited friday night with dearly missed friends demanded some special attention. it seems our lives get overwhelmed by work so easily, and the time we find for each other diminishes inconspicuously.

or life just happens.

although i'd say we're naturally inclined to effortless entertaining – meaning showing up at the door with a bottle of wine would be totally acceptable – there were lengthy and rambling facebook and email threads dedicated to planning the menu and the evening.

my contribution was sweet.

and it was good.

chocolate hazelnut pie in a jar.

life happened.

despite my firm efforts, my return to writing did not go according to plan.

it was life that swept me off my shaky feet, bounced and twirled me around while gasping my breath and left me panting face down on a cold slab.

it's spring. the light brightens things up. new life emerges.

it'll all be ok.

cherry blossoms.

how gala can you go?

perks of the job come in the form of big parties and exclusive events.

despite the fact that i most often wear a rather androgyne collection of clothes, a mix'n'match of women's and men's, and feel that i do not need to do neither my face nor hair, it's fun to get dolled up for a gala.

or a photoshoot just before.

dress by tiia vanhatapio, tights by wolford, sandals by miumiu, bracelet by kalevala koru.

oh, the smug smug face i have...

dreamscape.

i am absolutely in love with these videos. kinfolk are a group of artists who have combined their talent to produce work inspired by their love of small gatherings.

sure, they are a little too dreamy and perfect and at the wrong moments aggravate more than soothe. sometimes – ok sure, much of the time – life seems to consist of just managing between piles of laundry, dirty dishes, dustballs, hurry and short, snappy words to those around us.

but at most times, the serenity in these little clips draws me close and reminds me of the really important things: food, friends, and the details that make the moments we share so precious.

sit back, relax and enjoy. and if you feel the urge to write thank you notes by hand or quit your job to bake bread, do not blame me...



and there are more on their vimeo page. but remember i warned you.

have a beautiful weekend.

fragile vessel.

it's been a while since i've posted music.

too many mediocre songs and meaningless albums have passed by or i've just assumed that you know about the good ones way before i have time to say anything.

 yes, i assume you are a busy lot well informed and all...

even this one isn't new although porcelain raft's debut album strange weekend is just coming out next week. the dreamy, lofi pop that sounds as brumous as his videos look like are beautifully accompanied by the voice that assumes nothing resembling arrogance or pomposity, just gently adds to the haunting float that becomes a song.

he's opening for m83 at tavastia on feb 27 which is a combination bliss, if anything can be.

 

on relativity.

my mentor had a poignant suggestion to people who insisted that everything is relative: "just try jumping off a ten storey building and see how relative things are." naturally, his little remark was as beyond the point as the original suggestion was hasty, but there was a brief reminder of some things being universal.

talking about universals gives certain people the chills – and reassures some – but the mere acceptance of the existence of universal laws explains very little of the world. the thing is, once we start making sense of what happens around us, we start putting facts together and the glue we choose has an immense effect of what kinds of conundrums come about.

to put it simply, our explanatory stories – or narratives as the good old hermeneutic inquirer would say – are construed by us with whatever material we have at our disposal and the results are selective and biased in every beautiful sense of the words.

i have a paradoxical but loving relationship to moments when little details force me to reassess the storyline i put together. a challenge to my factoids which are built for self-defence or out of pure fatigue can illuminate where i picked the wrong jar of adhesive and give me a reason to reconstruct what i consider real.

lately i have found myself pondering the nature of being busy. my most common greetings start with oughts and shoulds, and i find myself explaining my absence from everywhere including the present moment.

or, to be honest, i feel like the artist faye mullen's model who chose bricks as her point of reference:

photo from series i am an artist and i weigh by faye mullen 2010.

whatever i give feels like a brick is lifted off my shoulders but provides the exact pleasure to the recipient that can be expected after being a given a solid block of clay.

to be honest, it ain't a great feeling.

thus, i have concentrated on doing things that give me pleasure. slowly finding time to browse the tubes of glue at my disposal and rearranging the bricks and bringing forward other elements that build up who i am and what my reality consist in.

i started with my nearest and dearest and am slowly moving towards friends and this blog. i refuse to let my narrative get stuck with beginnings like should've and ought, and will soon be distributing marshmallows and fountains of down.

the ultimate goal? i checked out that my weight equals about 9 spider monkeys and i think transforming my busyness from laying bricks into little monkey-gone-crazy is more like the narrative i want to believe in. i'm still not quite at handing out bananas, but trust me, i'll get there. i will still be more busy than i have ever been in my entire life, but it's all about finding the right relativity, right?

constant.

i am of the faithful sort.

people who shop by visiting random stores or even the ones they frequent without a pattern baffle me a little. don't get me wrong, i like to wander and flaneuring is oftentimes fun, but i just do not make decisions when occupied by vagrant thoughts.

i like routine where it makes sense: my mornings are simple because all my underwear is exactly the same and i do not have to start fussing over outfits when i'm just starting to wake up. having to change my facial care pattern arouses anxiousness. the thought of trying out different perfumes quite honestly scares me.

'sense' here equals, of course, 'sense to me'.

i like novelty, but for me to venture off my beaten path requires research – for example a suggestion somewhere online that there is a spot that hosts things that might interest me and looking into it. beforehand. of course.

i should not, then, feel surprised that i seem to find my wardrobe originating from the same brands since years ago. even if collections and years pass, i return to certain stores and designers regularly. i may stray occasionally and find new favorites, but the lineage my closet hides is quite easily compartmentalized.

and, yeah, it somehow manages to surprise me. this has not been an intentional process. i seem to be more focused on discrepancies than constants to realize that some things stick.

one of them is prada in shoes. i realized when my latest pair arrived that in addition to converse chuck taylors, zara and marc jacobs heels, most of my shoeboxes are adorned by one of the recognizable logos of the italian fashion house whether the main line, linea rossa or miu miu.

it's funny because have not considered myself much of a fan of prada. moreover, i do not like most of their shoes at all. i actually find the majority of them pretentious and overdone. nevertheless, it only takes the one pair, the either properly ott one or the subtle and understated specimen of the collection.

i have been looking for a flat shoe with some oopmh for a couple of years now, and although basic brogues were the sensible thing to get, they have just left me cold. hence, i was thrilled to find my newest acquisition from the linea rossa line.

the perfect combination of 90's clumsy walking shoe, dr martens, the classic brogue, the over-the-top lacquered leather and, i kid you not, girly bows. light as air.

there is so much wrong with them that they are just amazing.

any excuse to see ya.

sometimes it seems that bloggers get to live a life of parties with endless champagne being poured down their throats and gift bags cluttering their shoe-crammed hallways. in some ways it is true: invitations to press days, openings, previews and such come regularly and there are bubbles and bags to be expected at most places.

i respond to invitations rarely because i am already jampacked with events through work and my social life outside the blogging world suffers as it is. but sometimes these events are the perfect catchup moment with friends who also happen to be fellow bloggers – brief encounters that provide an opportunity for an update without the fuss of officially setting up a time in everyone's heavy schedule.

meself, mikko and luna the most adorable little smiling wiener.
me wearing silk blouse by t by alexander wang and scarf by marc by marc jacobs. spider fingers and smirk by mother nature, thank you very many.
pic by stella <3.

and no, free champers never hurt anyone.

chef-d'oeuvre.

when el bulli closed its doors last july, i was amongst the innumerable people who regretted the fact that we never took the proper steps to secure a seat at one of the extravaganza of servings they offered for the 24 years chef adrià was in charge of the kitchen.

as i read around twenty articles about the last meal served to a special crowd of invitees, my feelings fluctuated from grief to bitter rage. why did i not just once do something i intensely wanted instead of putting it off indefinitely?

sigh.

there are spots around the world where the talent can still be experienced – such as tickets in barcelona – , but it is a tepid consolation for missing out on the grand spectacle of the original.

sigh.

if i were talented in the kitchen, i could always try the cookbook. for voluntary and utter mortification, there probably isn't a better source, unless i wanted to venture to the most passé of things and got myself a molecular gastronomy kit: not sure if playing a chemist for the sake of a circus was arrogant or just plain stupid. it's as if i forced my family to endure a set of opera arias after two weeks of singing lessons...

sigh.

phaidon's newsletter around the same time as el bulli was closing intrigued me. they announced a new cookbook from adrià: the family meal. it was to be a collection of recipes the staff enjoyed at the restaurant.

i placed a pre-order without hesitation, but when the book finally arrived about a month ago, my expectations were surpassed intensely and manyfold.

it was as if adrià had realized that those of us who never got to enjoy the art of his kitchen could not attain consummation from attending copycats of molecular gastronomy, but needed gentle, warm comforting to ease our distress.

thus, he built a book of 31 meals worthy of the regular home kitchen, a great cookbook in the detailed instructions it provides and something that unassumingly reassures someone like me that "no, the fact that you had no idea how to cook caramel does not mean you're not worthy of enjoying the best cooking and dining experience."

the amount of pictures, the lists of essentials in both utensils and ingredients, and the basic recipes provide a solid foundation for anyone wanting to know the basics of cooking. the meal recipe ingredients divided into buy fresh / in the pantry / in the fridge and a timeline for organizing the menu come together as an experience only the best mannered company can provide: effortless and cordial.

i will enjoy one of the meals – perhaps #5: polenta and parmesan gratin, sesame sardines with carrot salad and mango with white chocolate yogurt –  watching the el bulli movie with the regret a procrastinator only is capable of.

and then i'll just move on, just that much wiser.

ff6600.

the warmth is gone and i am spending a few days inside trying to cope with a series of colds that have conquered me this fall. a small office with plenty of visitors and long days have attacked my immune system and left me defenseless with the viruses.

fortunately, nothing too serious that rest and plenty of liquids could not cure.

while i cocoon myself between the blankets and fall asleep watching yet another movie on apple tv, these photos from a couple of weeks ago remind me of the perfect shades of fall.

mushrooms. again. i promise these are different ones from last time.

tomatoes in four stages of ripeness.

suncherished.

pumpkins taking over the field.

perfect shades of fall.

i hope you're enjoying the ripening weather.