No Parking

This photo stung a little when I fell upon it today.  Much like falling off a bike in my younger days, I have many a scar covering my knees from these stings.  You see I turn 32 in two days and I must admit I feel a sting, the age doesn't bother me -  its the lack of movement I feel in my life.  

Have I forgotten to pedal, have I lost my balance?

Chelsea & Violet Tee, F21 Sunglasses and Skirt, Vintage Boots, World Market Bag, random arm of bracelets, F21 rings

What does it mean to be living?  I feel I'm pedaling, I can see the miles but when I look around the scenery looks the same.   Somewhere along the line I traded my cruiser for a stationary bike but kept pedaling all the same.  No wonder my destination is nowhere in site.  

The destination, where is this mecca?  

 A place where I can't predict the conversation and exploration is a must.  

I want to talk art, fashion, books.  

I want to learn from the people I meet. 

I want to walk down the street and experience culture, eat at unique restaurants.

I want to feel it is okay to be me.

  

On a positive note, I will be celebrating my birthday with the bando and our besties hailed all the way from Miami.  Records will be spinning, booties will be dancing, livers will be wilting and laughter will be flying.  

Here's to drinking fancy water by the pool on a work day. 

Until next time,

Lex

no snakes were injured

"Watch for snakes!"

The warning I received after I had eased my way into the wheat field. Doesn't this happen all the time - the warning after you've already taken the step, the wonder of if you made the right move? I ponder if this is a natural reaction from somewhere deep in our inner being or is it a behavior I have learned over time.

 [WGACA tee, Buffalo David Bitton jacket, vintage skirt [DIY from a dress], BR necklace,
F21 bracelet and other random bracelets.]

I recently had a conversation about this particular subject posing the question - what if...
 
what if, the news focused more on the positive and less on the negative.
what if, we focused more on love and less on hate.
what if, we focused on our riches and less on our debt.

Maybe if we switched to the positive our inner programing would change, news would be celebratory, Facebook posts would be full of life, we would read about how many people had jobs versus how many are unemployed. Would life be dramatically different or would our inner beings still scream "watch for snakes"?

And if we're throwing honesty balls in the air, my mind never went to snakes but I did question whether my gluten intolerance would be affected by standing in a field of my own worst food enemy.
 
But I said screw it, why the hell not.
 
The attitude I've had most of my life. Another time maybe, we'll discuss.

Until next time,

Lex

Stop Trying to be Someone Else's Perfect

Thank you Free People's Bldg 25 blog for this photo.
I will be carrying a notebook with me from this day forward - excellent advice.

Until next time...
Lex

Soul Food

Hammocks, instant soul food.  Bare feet in the grass.  The perfect activity on a late summer night with the one you love.  The ideal place to be on a fall day, wrapped in a blanket, reading a book.

I need one with fringe.  It will hang perfectly with the hammock chair we bartered for in Ecuador that is still wrapped up in plastic, quietly waiting in the basement to be introduced to Kansas.   This was two years ago.  I know now exactly where I want it to be - in the northeast corner of our backyard with a rock path leading to the destination from the deck.

 

I can picture it perfectly in my mind.

These are the type of corners I've created throughout my house, places to feed my soul.  Antique chairs from my grandfather's house separated by a record player my father eagerly picked out for my Christmas present last year. 

A breakfast nook filled with a table my family spent many holidays eating at when visiting my grandmother.  The grandmother I take after, who leaves me messages in my dreams.

I need these places to keep me grounded, remind me of what's important...

Ordinary riches can be stolen, real riches cannot.  In you soul are infinitely precious things that cannot be taken from you.  - Oscar Wilde

Until next time,
Lex

Good Friday...err, Sunday

I've been lusting after a pair of buckle wrapped boots ever since I spotted Kate Ciepluch  [Shopbop Fashion Director] in the above picture, wearing a pair at Coachella this year.  Last night lazily surfing the web, I stumbled into the boot section of the Free People website, lo and behold guess what I found?

You guessed correct.  Buckle wrapped ankle boots.

The beauty is stunning, you may want to shield your eyes.

Meet the Pencey Sylvia Boot.

Perfection, no?

I'm pretty sure I just dove right past lust and fell head over heels in love. 

This song really has nothing to do with this post - other than I love it too.  It has been on repeat during my detoured drive home.  Damn the person in charge of road construction around here.

Good Friday, Black Crowes

 

Until next time,

Lex

water of my youth

This picture.

This picture my friends is where you will find me most days when I am starring off into space, lost in a daydream.  Cutoff shorts, bikini topped, sand in my toes, on my cruiser by the ocean.

After each daydream, I say a little prayer for it to come true.  Even for just a short couple of years, before my skin looks like it does when I squeeze it together.  See this is the thing about being almost 32 years old, you wonder why you took your twenties so serious.

It's the decade in my life when I looked the best in cutoff shorts, yet I was too busy trying to prove something.

To whom? I'm still trying to figure this out. 

Now it is going to seem crazy, when we actually put the beautiful house we bought in our twenties on the market and move to the beach.  I often wonder if we would look back and wonder what the hell we were thinking or would it be the best decision we ever made.  This is the debate I have in my mind.

F21 sweater, DIY cutoffs, wellies from Ecuador

Yesterday, all I wanted to do was see some water - it was a windy, overcast day here in Kansas.  My idea, although not the ocean, was to wade through the murky waters of Winfield City Lake.

I wanted to show my husband the water of my youth; the first place I went skinny dipping; the place where I shotgunned many Natty Lights.   Isn't youth bitter sweet?  You spend your childhood waiting to be grown up and your adult life remembering the simplicity of being a child.

Yesterday you wouldn't have found me dipping a single toe into the lake without a little fear of what it would discover once under the water, but 16 years ago without a single dose of fear I jumped in sans a swimsuit. 

The lake was not meant to be, five minutes into our car ride an offer to babysit our nieces arrived and off we went in the other direction.  Another time perhaps, I will relive the water of my youth and take my husband on a journey down memory lane. Until the time arrives, I will serenade my husband with bits and pieces of the girl I used to be.

 

[Say hello to my sweet Zoey, wondering what the hell Mom is doing!]

Until next time, 

Lex