Monday, October 20, 2008

Something instead.

Maybe to see things more beautifully, you have to feel pain more acutely. I see these things and notice these details with intricacy and vibrancy, but assuredly, I'll carry your burden so close to my heart for so long that my scars might mirror yours in time.  

I'm so grateful for so many things, but not nearly as many as I should be.

Friday, October 10, 2008


Kenley made it to Fashion week over Jerrell.

The sky is falling.

Monday, October 6, 2008

Missed Deadline.

The Challenge: Design an evening gown inspired by a photo taken at the New York Botanical Gardens. Awwwwww yeah.... The L'Oreal Paris Challenge!

-Jerrell is goin' a bit "Castaway" there alone in the apartment.
-Kenley thinks that Leanne sabotaged her. Obviously, it couldn't have been that her outfit was god-awful-hideous.
-I love all the Hedda Lettuce references.
-Kenley usually uses bright, pretty florals, but instead of going with it and rockin' she has to be Kenley and use fugly fuscia faux python?
-Producers show left bag at mood....dun, dun, dunnnnnn.
-Tim Gunn is sooooo classy! Kenley does not deserve such considerations! And yet another reason to complete adore him!
I- officially recant Jerrell's nickname. Sorry, dude, but your early stuff was ugly. But I like you now.
-Commence break-downs. Everyone.
-Kenley is cray-cray. She get's complimented everytime TG critiques her.

Korto- chipmunk noises.
Jerrell- "I have tulle I'm not going to use, but she's a one-trick pony and I refuse to help her." dannnng. vindictive.
Jerrell "It's like she's Kenley the Dragon-slayer!"
Kenley "My whole life I've had to deal with being left-out..." She's left out because she tries to eat everyone whole like goldfish. Ay yai. What a mess of a thing.
Jerrell- "Work it out, BooBoo."

(Botanical) DESIGNS:

Jerrell- The play of colors IS phenom. But it does look unfinished and sloppy in the detailing, like the hem. But MMMMM! The colors. Yummy.

Kenley- If "The Little Mermaid" was made into a Broadway musical, this would be Ariel's main stage-outfit. This is just alarming, though, really. If it were a shorter sillouette it would work as a cocktail dress (maybe.) but there just isn't a category that it can work in as-is. This would definitely make the "What-what-she-thinking" section. And Kenley is a whiny crybaby. A mean one. A mean, mean baby.

Korto- The cut is modern, the color doesn't work for it, though. But you DO have to respect Korto's fearlessness with color. I can see the judges "pagent" point, sadly. But it was better than Kenley's! I can't believe Kenley keeps getting chances!

Leannimal- As much as I love, love, loved! Jerrell's color palette, this should have be the winner. This was whimsical and soft and stunning going down the runway. In the words of Rachel Zoe "This dress was just begging to be put on the Red Carpet." You can completely see the inspiration of lavender. The whole look makes me think of a soft breeze on a summer evening....sighhhh.

They have to all give boring, slightly heart-tugging speeches to prove that they want it. Kenley whines some more, snore, snore, snore...

In the end, Jarrell wins (despite the atrocious! finishing.) but isn't safe. They all get to do the 12-look lines to compete for spots at Bryant Park. GAHHHHHHHH!!!!!! So over it! Why didn't they just give Kenley the axe, say they were sorry, and call it a day?

Over it. Craps.

Two more weeks, babies, one more post. And then back to those other things.

Sunday, October 5, 2008

Shoot for Two [blog posts in one day...]

Well. It would appear that I am now two weeks behind on my "Runway" blogs. I just haven't had the motivation to write them the past two weeks. Soooo I'm going to skip Kenley's awful-should-have-gone-home week, because I'm just too upset about the whole thing, really; and just hop straight to last week. Yeah? Good. But after this legit post. A friend of mine said that they were ready for Runway to be over so I'd get back to the other stuff, so to honor that request, I'll put in a break. 

I went home this weekend. Columbia is like a third parent to me, in so many ways. So much of growing up is completely inseperable from the place of Columbia, so in that way, Columbia has its own personality- it's personified in weather, in coffee shops, in city blocks, in certain smells, in sounds and music festivals, in people that you only ever see in one location. 

The second annual "Roots, Blues, and BBQ" festival was in full swing when I got there on Friday, as if Downtown Columbia needed any more activity than it's usual bustle to make me completely happy. Such an event (with blues and bbq to boot, too!) was just a monumental bonus. I think soon, Columbia will be referred to as "Little Portland," and be an absolute personification of all the cliche things of one of my favorite blogs Stuff White People Like . Gotta love it. The place is filled with Farmer's Markets, and local coffee shops, and organic restaurants, and pedestrians, and art-good and bad, and my new favorite: Sharrows ("Share the road w/ bicyclers" arrows). There are college students, yuppies, homeless people, intellectuals, artists, political activists, and hippies; and often, one person will occupy more than one of these categories. My friend Aaron had the best quote of the weekend when he said (talking about hippies and homeless people hanging out:) 
"...I mean why not? They have so much in common! All the homeless people used to be hippies, and all the hippies want to be homeless."
That's just perfect, right? It's even better when I tell you that we got on the subject after seeing six people ride down the block on bicycles in capes...we came to find that they had psuedonyms like "Gypsy Weaver" and "Infinity Man." I mean, I could make this crap up, but I just never have to. 

This festival is exactly the kind of thing that simply must be experienced first-hand. I always find it so hard to believe that writers can write about life from inside a closet, away from the experience of it. All this has to be seen, smelled, heard, felt. I have to see the tens of thousands of people smashed against one another fighting for space, trying to see, trying to dance-even though I hate it and it makes me feel panicky and claustrophobic. I have to smell the bbq smoke; feel the burn in my eyes and my throat from the carbon monoxide, cayenne pepper, and vinegar on the air. I have to smell the alcohol, the pavement, the people, the October air. I have to hear the music, the shouts of people, the sizzle of grills. I have to feel the unusual warmth of the early-October-evening-sun. I have to feel the bass thump-thump in my feet and my heart and my veins until eventually my blood pumps to the same rhythm of this musical emotion heard for blocks. This music, this music, this music. These beautiful blues. Awwwwww yeahhhhhhh, this good rhythm. This kind of music tells stories: it tells it with poetry, guitar riffs, and sweat; listen to my pain, make love to me, break my heart, take my guitar, let's do some sinnin', and save me Jesus. Play till you bleed, sing till you suffocate, drink till you die. So long as the music lives on. 

Well, I think I just wrote a song.