The Tell: Weak Means Strong, Strong Means Weak

Check out this sweet campified short film I worked on last year with Devon Lyon and Kevin Curry at Lyon Films.  A Best in Festival award at the 7th Annual Eugene Open Lens Festival (plus a review in the Eugene Weekly) got the film back on our minds this week. As a town that proudly hosts well-attended nearly year-round Rocky Horror Picture Shows, Eugene loving the campy creepy fun is no surprise at all! I love this little bit from the Weekly review about short films as a valid story-telling device: "Short films don’t have all that much time to truly suck, and when they’re done well they have all the compressed emotional impact of a great short story." Also, "This nearly perfect short film is creepy, bloody, hilarious and, in the end, completely shocking — like a musical conceived by Scorsese, scored by Sondheim and directed by Guillermo del Toro." Wow! 

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The week before shooting The Tell (I guess it was Fall 2009), I met Devon at their studio and picked up a gallon of blood and a bag full of fake scars and plastic open wounds. This being my introduction to gore FX makeup, I enlisted my dearest (and most patient) male friend Scott (guys like blood and gore right?) to practice on. The night of (this was a 12 hour, all-nighter shoot), Nadia Kingston and I put the gallon of blood and falsie wounds to good use. I especially enjoyed my job of dumping blood down the neck of our poor young man sacrificed over the bucket. Jillian Rabe stars as the lady in distress alongside Todd Robinson and Norm Sanders. 

Love Is So Short, Forgetting Is So Long

I, right now, am not in the business of forgetting. That was Mr. Neruda's job, some night in a far off time and space, or at least the job fit for the speaker of this poem. At the risk of becoming one of those dreary blogs I've talked about, I want to share this poem by Pablo Neruda. Someone I care about deeply gave me The Essential Neruda book for Christmas, and this poem is one of my favorites because it captures heartbreak so perfectly, as well as the stories we tell ourselves while in the midst of heartbreak. My friend Emilee (a fellow lover of poetry) read it to me in the car this summer on a three hour drive to 10 Mile, a friend's old growth sanctuary on the Oregon Coast. Above poppy is by Bran Symondson from a photo story called "The Best View of Heaven is From Hell" on Dazed Digital. Check it out. It's eerie, but beautifully done, and about opium addiction among the Afganistan police. Pablo's poppys remind me of my Grandma Anita: she, a committed botainist, knew their power and loved them as some of her favorite flowers. 

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I can write the saddest verses

I can write the saddest verses tonight.

Write, for example, "The night is full of stars,

       twinkling blue, in the distance."

The night wind spins in the sky and sings.

I can write the saddest verses tonight.

I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

On nights like this I held her in my arms.

I kissed her so many times beneath the infinite sky.

She love me, at times I loved her too.

How not to have loved her great still eyes.

I can write the saddest verses tonight.

To think that I don't have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, more immense without her.

And the verse falls onto my soul like dew onto grass.

What difference that my love could not keep her.

The night is full of starts, and she is not with me.

That's all. In the distance, someone sings. In the

       distance.

My soul is not at peace with having lost her.

As if to bring her closer, my gaze searches for her,

My heart searches for her, and she is not with me.

The same night that whitens the same trees.

We, of then, now are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, it's true, but how much I loved her.

My voice searched for the wind that would touch her ear.

Another's. She will be another's. As before my kisses.

Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, it's true, but maybe I love her.

Love is so short, and forgetting is so long.

Because on nights like this I held her in my arms,

my soul is not at peace with having lost her.

Though this may be the final sorrow she causes me,

and these the last verses I write for her.

-Pablo Neruda

Nothing Remains But A Kiss Of Salt

Sometimes I work on shoots where I love the model so much I think: we would have been fast friends in middle school. Good measure for how cool and real someone is, right? Thinking back I'm not sure if I told Lynsee I could imagine watching TGIF with her when I was 11, but I may as well have.

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Here is a model, living in Portland, working full time. I know, it's unheard of. I had to ask her several times what else she does. Granted, most of her work is international or NYC. She flies up to Canada to do commercials, and spent a significant part of last year in Asia doing shows and shoots in China. She rarely works in Portland. Ben and I felt really lucky to shoot with her, and we should feel even luckier still: sigh, she's taking off for New York. Portland still isn't able to support many full-time fashion people, but that's another convo for another time.

Ben Pigao shot this in an abandoned Nike studio space in NW. (It was sweet in there, but no, you can't use it. He's a Nike designer with his office in the building, so has free range.) In this elevator shot, it's newcomer Ryan Self with Lynsee, her makeup and hair pretty simple; her sweet nature made me want to do lovely. After a lonnnng day of shooting, we were contemplating final looks, and Lynsee said, "Everyone wants me to look sweet and pretty. I don't really have anything in my book that's tough." She showed me a couple sample shots of a heavy, blacked out eye, and I happily conceded. More photos from this day to come I hope! Go here for my first shoot with Mr. Pigao.

Lift The Rock To Find The Life

 

A heart-shaped rock

lies face to the sun,

dusty pink and almost smooth,

its four chambers pumping with life.

The cloudy contours fit perfectly in your hand,

but it’s bigger than it looks.

It’s a plateau, an entire landscape,

a mountain.

The heart’s spring came long ago

when the earth was hot and bubbly.

At its genesis it was connected to the earth

by a cord of molten.

Finally it broke apart and freed itself,

Tearing off its gown like one of Rumi’s roses.

Broken lines circle like a crown:

little rock stretch marks and

earthquake smile lines.

Proof it had to crack a bit to form.

-Carrie Hamm

Do Work. Dress Up. Feel Good.

How is it that 68 degrees feels so much colder some days? I'm doing web design today from home, and trying to find a warm place to work without turning up the heat or distracting myself with hot lavender baths. I've finally settled all bundled up in front of the fire with the gray alpaca blanket my sister and brother-in-law got for me from Peru this fall. I've pretty much avoided the living room since my little sister left after New Years for Chicago; home takes some time to get used to again without her. But now here I am with a cup (okay a pot) of Chicago's Metropolis Redline Express coffee and my day's work.

Here are some pictures from our Masquerade Ball @ Mt. Tabor Theater. Lately it has been just my style to wear the cheapest little clothes (above note the forever 21 dress) with way more valuable (albeit mostly borrowed) accessories. Thank god for Sahlia's most gorgeous jewelry (and her sanity-giving breezyness). About an hour before we needed to be completely ready to leave I went flailing over to her studio dramatically needing to be rescued with a feathered headdress, jewels (a freshly braided mixed-metal neckless which we wrapped around my wrist) and a glass of wine. I rambled on and on while we doctored the Urban Outfitters mask and cut the cloth flowers off the dress. I've come to the conclusion that it is impossible to get ready for an event without some drama. Best masks of the night in my opinion: Erica, Hannah and Ali and taking the total cake very bottom Ethan and Kerri with their dramatic homemade masks.

Photos Hannah Aronowitz

Secret Bin Of Sweetness

Again felt the need to unplug. Get to the bottom of my essence, find that core, stoke it and watch the brilliance unfold and shine out. Still digging my well, building my tower.

And it's coming along quite nicely, thank you.

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I'd like to come home to my blog and give us this beautiful poem by Mary Oliver, from her book of poetry American Primitive. My dear friend Ryan gave me this book on a rainy Oregon Coast weekend this fall, one of the treasured weekends I got to spend in wild, musical passion with my extended family of conscious friends and teachers.

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Like that weekend, today the wind rushes through the leaves, sounding like a wooden rain maker being turned and turned and turned; the rain comes in waves, showering the damp earth and leaving a mist for the moss to drink up; thunder rolls some ways off, vaguely threatening. In the front of the book Ryan wrote: "May your winter be warm with words and wet with rain." It is here we will visit the bear and her drunken, fulfilled happiness.

Happiness

In the afternoon I watched
the she-bear; she was looking
for the secret bin of sweetness--
honey, that the bees store
in the trees' soft caves.
Black block of gloom, she climbed down
tree after tree and shuffled on
through the woods. And then
she found it! The honey-house deep
as heartwood, and dipped into it
among the swarming bees--honey and comb
she lipped and tongued and scooped out
in her black nails, until

maybe she grew full, or sleepy, or maybe
a little drunk, and sticky
down the rungs of her arms,
and began to hum and sway.
I saw her let go of the branches,
I saw her lift her honeyed muzzle
into the leaves, and her thick arms,
as though she would fly--
an enormous bee
all sweetness and wings--
down into the meadows, the perfection
of honeysuckle and roses and clover--
to float and sleep in the sheer nets
swaying from flower to flower
day after shining day.

Carrie Hearts Lanvin Who Hearts H&M

The new Portland H&M store has been open for almost a week, but Alison Nicole and I put off going right away, at first to avoid the inevitable teenage hysteria. I understand the excitement, just don't respond well to Black Friday-esque trample-shopping crowds. Hopefully the surge has settled into a stream--we are heading to the new downtown store this afternoon. We're a day early to catch the new Lanvin hearts H&M line (is the collection even coming to Portland?), but look! Albert Elbaz never fails to thrill me, season after season, and didn't fail to again with his high-street-to-low-street-to-high-street (or whatever he said he was going for) pairing with H&M. Even if we get deprived of his line (out West we have to get crafty to get what we want some times), there are so many fan saucy dressed to get excited about. There was plenty of color on the runway, but I love best these creamy black confections punctuated with bursts of leopard and bright color, save of course for Anna Dello Russo's florescent sorbet trot down the runway.

Unforeseen Circumstances

In anticipation of Lille Boutique's next fashion show, Unforeseen Circumstances by NYC designer Teo Griscom, I am grazing through the UC site, getting my first feel for the brand and the soft, vulnerable pieces. Usually I attempt to limit my consumption of dreary blogs and lonely websites, preferring to experience solitude in person through poetry, art and nature. But something about the images and Griscom's language--not to mention the gorgeous, hand-made pieces themselves--makes me more than willing to go there with her. Plus, there's nothing like the start of a rainy winter to make a person want to hibernate in cozy sheets wearing only the softest of fabrics! Get familiar with the knits, and
RSVP quick if you want a seat at the show.

Masquerade Ball At Mt. Tabor Theater

Portland family play time again! If you've a PDX Family party pro or if this is your first time, get your tickets at TicketsWest, Mt.Tabor theater or Just People music. Dress your best and come play. We will take good care of you! (Take inspiration from Daria Werbowy's masked beauty I found in an old Vogue Paris stashed in my room.)

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Check out my post from this year's prom (also at Mt. Tabor theater on Hawthorn) and 2009 Prom in Eugene. On December 18th, in addition to shows from Reeble Jar and host Just People, there will be live painting by Dane Eisenbart, hula hooping, stilt walking (courtesy Mr. Jasin Weiner) and Mr. Wu turning the tables.

Let The Beauty You Love Be What You Do

Let the beauty you love be what you do
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.
-Rumi

 Here are some behind-the-scenes shots from a recent shoot for Sahlia's website. Coming up to Sahlia's lofty studio in the Ford building in South East is like coming home to a little tree house sanctuary. The high ceilings, exposed brick, big windows and raw edge wood all feels so natural and peaceful. I love the old picture frames she made into jewelry displays. (I'm going to try and convince her to teach me how to make them--yay x-mas presents!) I visit her as much as possible, and always leave draped more of her gorgeous jewels. She likes me to wear them out and about to give them

some freedom and fresh air.

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The shoot was straight-forward, with just Natalie modeling, me styling and Sahlia shooting. Natalie is such a sweet, talented model to work with--not to mention hilarious and professional and all the other things a person could want! Doing her makeup was a breeze: a nude smokey eye, nude super glossy lips and summer-bronze face. Hair just took some minor tweaking to an already great cut.

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Recently I helped Sahlia name her new pieces. The first day I came in with my notebook and scribbled up line sheets I was a little nervous, thinking I could either be right on or possibly wayyyy off. I got her a copy of the Essential Rumi (my obsession) and used my copy to come up with the names. I was led by her example of the name "Patience" for a pair of earrings (they take her forever to make, plus a lot of patience, because of how she has to sauter and meld (or whatever she does) these tiny barbells through little links interspersed along the chain. I think we finally named the earrings "With Patience"). She loved the names, and over a few days (and a bottle a few bottles of red wine) we perfected each. For a pair of braided chain earrings: "Being Woven." For small silver hoops suspend from a chain with barbell clusters: "Sky Wheel." For the triple-v necklace below, I loved the name "Birdwings" (which inspired me to post the hauntingly beautiful poem here), and Sahlia came up with "The Symmetry of Wings," which is even more descriptive. Some names, like "The Sun is Love," had no match yet in jewelry, but inspired new pieces. For us creative freakshows, it is all such a process. I'm excited to see where we all go with our work. In the meantime we just keep digging our wells--working in beautiful spaces with clear minds, vision and purpose and collaborating with talented, passionate people!

Birdsong brings relief

to my longing

I am just as ecstatic as they are,

but with nothing to say!

Please, universal soul, practice

some song, or something, through me!

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The way of love is not

a subtle argument.

The door there

is devastation.

Birds make great sky-circles

of their freedom.

How do they learn it?

They fall, and falling,

they're given wings.

-Rumi

Sexy Savant In Portland

Friday night at Holocene, Feng-Feng Yeh of the NYC-based Savant label debuted her lingerie capsule collection--nine sexy, refreshing looks that stayed true to her avant-guard aesthetic. The line recalled her Spring 2009 collection, this time making bandeau bras, elastic caging and brocade boyshorts the central focus of the collection. Boyshorts, briefs and bloomers came with pool-blue stripes and black detailing, silver trip set against black cotton, and lavender silk Chinoiserie. Elastic bras provided cleavage and suggested a most comforting fit. Everything looked completely wearable--I mean, we're talking about the bedroom here. Anything goes! But the collection looked almost like it was ready for the street (okay, ready for the beach), with the water-loving neoprene and suggestive, but not dead-give-away coverage.

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Alison Nicole and I stayed after the show, catching up with some of the models and checking out the neoprene and elastic fits up close. We stuck around long enough to catch a word with the adorable Yeh. I asked her why she chose Portland to debut her line. She said simply that Lille boutique approached her about a trunk and fashion show for First Friday and she liked the idea. But she enthusiastically added, "I love Portland! It has everything I love... Coincidentally my sister moved out here just two days ago, so it all just worked out."

 From top, model Kate Troedsson wears the Neoprene Sportive Bra and Cotton Organdy Night Dress. Sally Garrido-Spencer wears the Blue Stripe Elastic Halter Bra, matching boyshorts and Elastic Cage skirt with metallic buttons. Megan Hodge wears the Reversible Neoprene Bandeau Bra and Blue Stripe Applique Boyshort. Photos by Alison Nicole.

There Is A Rain For Storytelling In Candlelight

This morning I had the pleasure of watching the most fantastic hail storm. My sweet little cat and I sat side by side outside on the deck and watched little white pellets and loads of rain smash through the branches of our little forest. We've had some gorgeous fall weather, but today in honor of the rain and the cozy season, here is the poem Seasonal Event by my grandma Anita out of her book Pockets of Time.

A gray day in this land is a time

for scholars

              and lovers

when diaphanous scarves of mist

fold into the hills and wrap parched

sensitivities in an intimacy

that no highbright sun could achieve

It presages rain.

Ah, rain! On the face, in the hand--

it breaks into music on trees and stones.

It dissolves the dusts of summer

and holds in suspension a subtle

distillation of muted colorings--

the miracle of a raindrop in a gray day.

-Anita Hamm

Dressing As A Limitless State Of Mind

This is pretty cool! Tonight at Holocene: debut Spring 2011 Savant lingerie fashion show, created by New York-based Savant founder and designer Feng Feng Yeh. The show is presented by Lille Boutique, which will be hosting a Savant trunk show tomorrow, November 6. I've read about Yeh and her creative club wear designs (read: Avant-gard) in Vogue, and it's awesome we get to see the new lingerie line first. Rest assured, it won't be your typical Angel-esque bra; check out this bandage bralette for a hint of what's possible. Love the '70's pallet, thick fabircs and bold lines from this season's ready to wear
(not to mention the sweet elf ears).

Robo Boogie: 001000100101011

I don't usual post about downtown events, but this one is going to be flowing with some of the most colorful, glittery fashiony club girls in town. At least, it should be with Annie Angell (real name--we used to get in trouble together back in middle school) running the show. (Plus, I couldn't pass up posting this adorable robo flyer created by Corey Michaud.) Come out to East Chinatown Lounge to check out the DJs and all for your post First Thursday activity. More info on Annie's blog. 

Stress And Destiny

This isn't exactly hot off the press, but I want to show some appreciation for Portland's Gretchen Jones and her win on Project Runway, especially because of how up in arms the world seems to be about it! Exciting for Portland --third Portland (Portland-area, thanks Seth) winner on the show and fourth to compete! (For those who've been napping: Leanne Marshell won Season 5, Janeane Marie and Seth Aaron competed
Season 7, Seth taking the crown.) 

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I watch zero TV (not necessarily out of principle), so I had to get all my Gretchen updates from Jezebel, where the writers took an uncharacteristically rude approach to the coverage. I brushed it off each week, figuring I was biased. (Not only hometown bias--a little white Moth Love dress by Gretchen from Francis May with a deep fluttery back has been my 95 degrees and above go-to now for two consecutive summers.) As a huge fan of "blah colors" (Gretchen's pallet choice as described by the Jezebel writer) I had no problem with her hashing out a design idea without throwing in superfluous color. The (ahem) neutrals not only stayed true to Gretchen's style, but also allowed for some true exploration of design. Some of the more interesting collections have been made from an entirely simple pallet--see Spring '11 Chloe, Stella McCartney and Francisco Costa's Calvin Klein. It is with obvious respect to the environment that designers chose less harmful dyes and chemicals. Plus, as it sounds, Mondo will have no trouble gaining deserved attention and support as he continues his career.

 My personal experience with Gretchen? She's honest, gracious and focused on what she wants.

What's not to respect?