A Change to the Home Sweet Home

Hello my lovely readers,

After much deliberation, I have decided to switch to Wordpress. On May 17th, I can promise an exciting change to my layout, that makes me simply giddy to think about. Truly, if you could see me, I'm slyly grinning like a cheshire cat. My skin has even turned purple. Anyway, in perfect timing with my own move, I am moving to a fresh home that is much more suited to Rabbit Ears.

Come swing by and knock on my door. Freshly baked (virtual) cookies await.

My new home is littlerabbitears.com.

*m

Meet Your Summer *Insert Ridiculously Out of Reach Item Here*

Whenever summer rolls around, the same dreamy images float through the fog of my brain. Now this fog is relatively easy to clear up though, so don't be too concerned about its gloomy presence and/or my health. With each exam checking itself off on the seemingly never ending list of things that had to be completed before I could declare my summer as officially open, the sun would break through that fog and I could suddenly imagine myself dangling on the tip of a sail boat on the open sea. Perhaps dangling is a little too life-threatening. Although a good dangling session on the edge of a sail boat does sound appealing if it weren't for the fact that I have imagined myself already in a rather expensive and oh-so-breezy summer dress.
Seeing as how what I'm wearing kept coming into play in these day dreams of the exotic nature of my summers, whenever a fashion mag would boldly state, "Meet your summer jacket," I would immediately direct my eyes to this apparent staple for my summer wardrobe. Until the price tag practically hisses at me, "$525." Who has that money, yo?! Okay, well, not the starving student I claim to be (please look away from that Starbucks bill).
So this is pretty much a nod to magazines to say that the majority of people who pick up your magazine want to be whisked away into a dream-like state of picking and choosing items for their dream closets... but the dream can only extend so far, and I would like to see price tags that don't cripple my soul (no hint of melodrama here).

And with that, rant over & happy mother's day!

Please get your mumma this many flowers. Or treat yourself. Or a stranger. Because I think everyone deserves to be hugged by this many flowers.

Actually, now that Clare Elsaesser's paintings have made its way into this little post, I should dedicate a few more words to her. It would be a small crime not to, as I would be depriving you all from a taste of graceful talent. The series that first caught my eye were, of course, focused on these beautiful collections of flowers. My eye has become acutely trained to notice any bursts of colour that have so graciously bloomed for us over the next few months, as though they're trying on a new shade of lipstick and are eager for us all to see their dolled up beauty. We'll kneel down, place our nose but a few inches away, and just smile and say, "We're so glad you decided to stop by." At least that's how it should be. And I think that's exactly how these women feel, as they embrace their bundles of flowers as though they were long lost lovers. There's such a distinct feeling of relief, coalesced with sincere longing and a desire to never unlock their arms. And by hiding these women's faces, it becomes less of a painting about one woman, but one moment - a moment where love has bloomed all over again and we're somehow given this privilege to see it all paused, amidst the chaos of everyday when they have rushed to the store and spontaneously - or very much intentionally - purchased a bundle of flowers, or more aptly, found a moment in time to remember a lover. I find it all very beautiful. What's more, these scenes have a distinctly European feeling to me, and, of course, only in Europe does the term "lover" really seem to feel at home.

It is because Clare can so gracefully catch the beauty of the moments that are often overlooked that I am drawn to her paintings. I do think that she shares an appreciation for simplicity, made elegant but kept with its raw state. The next series of paintings focus on the quieter moments between lovers, if you will, or, I suspect, of a couple she may have simply passed by on the streets, or imagined herself. 

To me, it looks as if this body is radiating warmth from the inside, with these golden undertones finding themselves so much more illuminated against the darkness. It's as if you're in the perspective of her lover, and your eyes notice the soft curve of her spine, and the way the light just seems to wrap itself around her.

Quiet dependancy. At first, I thought that there was anger between the two of them, with the darker clouds hovering over them as though it hinted at unhappiness, but now I notice the way the woman is slumping into this man, letting herself relax into his back, her body appearing as though it has given up, and I realize that her support system is this man behind her, and he is the only thing that is keeping her from falling. 

Again, I love the fact that their faces are hidden, because the emotion of this painting is made clear by the way this woman retreats into his chest, turning her face towards his to sweetly whisper, or just to relish in this lover behind her. Clare captures the light in these block-like strokes, edged along their arms, boldly and unapologetically. It's as if Clare wants us to realize that she knows that the moments we are sometimes most desperate to freeze in time go by the fastest, in a blur of feelings and touch, and that by focusing more on the way with which the woman finds shelter in his arms rather than the finer detail of her dress, or the flowers surrounding their bodies, we recognize the fleeting nature of these moments we want to freeze, and that maybe they're not meant to be frozen at all, because the memories are meant to be in the feelings that will inevitably linger in our hearts. 

The next series is a delicious dose of whimsy. 

*m

Dainty Tingz

A collection of daintiness for your dainty eyes (can eyes be dainty? you tell me). 

Because I'm in exam crunch mode, I am lazy. Because lazy people don't credit, there are no credits. Because I procrastinate, I have a tumblr. All photos from my tumblr, but are most definitely not my own. If you really want me to track one photo down for ya, shoot me an email or comment. Please congratulate me on my logic in the comments as well. 

The last one-piece I wore was on the shores of Positano, Italy, and ironically enough I felt very Parisian. I was a Parisian child visiting Italy. Although I'm not sure I would ever have the occasion to wear such a delicate bathing suit, as I'm not sure barnacles and dog paws suit that lace detailing too well, I can always appreciate its dainty allure.

This might be what it feels like to sleep in a painting.

A singlet fit for a fairy. And due to my obsession with all things fairy, I need it. Although the only issue with this beauty is that I would turn into Carrie from SATC and would just lounge around in my undies all day, regardless of what needs to get done. Someone just answered the phone as Carrie. There are spies everywhere. 

A little post-christmas daintiness. Replace the pinecones with flowers, and this is entirely fit for the summer.

What is it about stringed lights that tempt me so? Well the answer is obvious, my friends. I just picture hundreds of little fairy wings aglow above my bed. And who doesn't want to smile at the thought of that? 

How I would like to look if I were a ballet teacher.

A portrait of the Parisian child all grown up, visiting the city. 

This would also be an issue. Because I would want to buy seven pairs so I could wear them every single day. Variety is the spice of life... unless your undies look like this.

A pixie manifested in human form. 

Now that your eyes are so satisfied with daintiness, your ears might be feeling a little deprived. Don't worry. I got that covered for you. 

Keaton Henson: Lying to You

I first heard Keaton Henson's song, "Lying to You", and instantly fell head over feels with his vocal cords. So much soul in this fella.

Noted lyrics.

As we lie in bed I feel lonely,

Though we're young, I feel eighty years old.

And your arms around me are keeping me warm.

But baby, I'm still feeling cold.

Daughter: Candles

Had a special someone send me this song, and it only makes my infatuation with Daughter multiply by a hundo.  If Keaton Henson and Daughter were to get together, I would be the happiest girl in the world. The world needs more perfection.

Noted lyrics.

Things cannot be reversed, we learn from the times we are cursed
Things cannot be reversed, learn from the ones we fear the worst
And learn from the ones we hate the most how to

Blow out all the candles, blow out all the candles
"You're too old to be so shy," he says to me so I stay the night.

Bloc Party: Intimacy

Yesterday was a giddy moment indeed, folks. That same special someone sent me a link to these fellas and I just got waves of butterflies once I heard them. Their album, Intimacy, is ridiculous. I could listen to it on repeat for hours. Especially this song. It's so pleasing to my ears, they're just beaming.

Noted lyrics.

I can sleep forever these days'Cause in my dreams I see you againBut this time fleshed out fuller facedIn your confirmation dress
I hope you all feel a tad more dainty.Until next time.
*m

My Entirely Realistic, Mind-Numbingly Logical Summer Plans

At this time of the year, somehow my summer always begins to appear as something out of a utopia. My wardrobe transforms into a collection of delicate sundresses, my alarm clock is in the form of the sweet little birdies resting on window sill, and you could find me walking down the beach while strumming away on a guitar (because yes, I picked up an entirely new skill in two weeks). But alas, as much as I relish my summer, these dreams are usually replaced by an obscene amount of sleep, where I roll out of bed and spend a few hours on Sims 3, and then head off to get money, get paid, at my work. Oh, right, yes I see friends too.

However, this summer is going to be so different. Seriously, I swear. I found some visual images to accompany my deadly serious plans for summer.

One. I don't know where this is. Nor do I know if it is real (I told you I'm logical). However, I will be there this summer. And I will most definitely be wearing a cowboy hat because how could I not wear one when in the presence of horses and dinosaurs. I would be a fool if I didn't! Summer is a time for exploring your hobbies, yeah? My new hobby is horseback riding with dinosaurs and ohmygod are there people hanging on to that dinosaur's leg? Change of plans. I'm going to ride the dinosaur itself. 

Two. Not only would my mum drool at the sight of this filing cabinet (set of drawers?), I would also drool. In fact, I am right now. But I would probably cry if I opened the drawers and they were filled with baby ducks, is this real life? So yes. This summer I fully plan to invest in a few hundred baby duckies and a rustic filing cabinet... and let total joy ensue. 

Hai.

HOLY MOLY! I may have been exaggerating earlier when I said I was drooling over the filing cabinet. That might be a little excessive (but not actually, totally justified). But this. This I can drool over. Avocado on bacon on tomatoes on basil on eggs on toast on SCRUMPTIOUS TIMES. I fully commit to replicating this to a tee this summer. 

Bookish Vibes

One of the most noteworthy perks of falling for a bookworm would have to be the conditional libraries. Think about it. A true bookworm would not live without a library of some variety. Be it a few shelves beneath their bedside table, or an expansive room with bookshelves that stretch from your toes to the ceiling. No kindles, kobos, or iPads storing electronic copies of their literary loves, but whole walls filled with stories waiting to be read. That's how it should be.

Freshome: 

OCD + bookworm = meant to be.

La Boheme

This is a spot where I would invite three wealthy architects over and have them debate the significance of the bookshelf a whole foot above the others. 

To Read and To Hold:

This is a spot where I would sing to my plants and expect them to sing back. And then take out my frustration on the looming canvas in front of me when they don't. 

Books, Words, and Authors: 

Ah. This. This is a spot where I would transform into a kitty cat and bask in the sunlight to my heart's content.

Bookshelf Porn:

This. This is a spot where I would play the blues on my harmonica and annoy all my neighbours. 

Flickr:

This. This is a spot where I would have to wear my prom dress whilst reading Tolstoy and having multiple revelations. Perhaps dance down the hallway with my butler as well. 

Rue Mag:

This. This is a spot where my math essay would just write itself. 

Modern Man: 

This. This is a spot where I would feel as though the world was able to be controlled with my mind. John Nash would probably join me and we would draw things on the window together (he wouldn't be doing all the work, I swear).

I feel as though I should share with you all my newest taste of sophistication in my life. By day he's a business man, but by night, he transforms into a biker with a need for speed. I fell for him immediately. Oh, his name? Such a fool you are, it's a coat. I personify all my clothing obviously. 

How glad am I not to be wearing my puffy parka built for Antarctica and cannot be worn with brown pants otherwise I am the human tree? SO GLAD. YOU HAVE NO IDEA. 

Have a vunderbar Sunday evening (so cultured, I know). 

*m

Summer Bikini Temptations

I remember the first time I fell in love with a swimsuit. It was the summer of '05 and I was in Positano, Italy with le famileh. The sun was setting and the waves were just callin' my name so I pranced on outside with my two younger brothers giggling and dancing behind me and frolicked in the Italian waves for hours (I don't know about you, but I come from a family of cupids clearly). And what else would I be in other than a swimsuit? Well, a wetsuit, yes, or maybe my birthday suit, but both of those options would be bizarre. Why would you even suggest them. I happened to be in a one-piece cherry red and sailor navy blue striped suit, and I felt so European and stylish.

The second time I fell in love with a swimsuit was in the summer of '09 when I was going on a boating trip with a friend. I managed to transform into a swan every time I went swimming because of the most delicate and dainty bikini I had ever laid eyes on. It was a ruffly, milky white bandeau top and simple white bottoms. I truly felt like this (Ryan Gosling not included, unfortunately).

And here I am, Spring (Winter?) of '13, falling in love with a bikini all over again.

Meet the Australian line, Rittenhouse, all jazzed up for summer.

Would ya look at this?! So whimsical, I adore it.

I've always been tempted by one pieces, and this one maintains that little bit of youthfulness with the tied string back. Quite charming, isn't it?

I feel as though you have to have a certain element of sass with this. It's so minimalist, yet daring.

And here's a few clothing pieces I have been flirting with the idea of.

Like these pants. How bohemian.

Currently, I'm hanging out in the executive class lounge in the airport. My ticket randomly upgraded, and I wasn't about to complain, guys. This place is awesome. I'll be walking out buddy buddy with a few of the wealthy business suit clad men any minute now, and be discreetly stuffing my pockets with as many of these croissants as possible.

*m