I stand on a cliff at the edge of the world. The sea salty wind whips my hair, Bringing the tastes of the earth to my lips. As I try to hold on to grains of sand Slipping between my fingers, grasping, struggling to hold on. To memories, to life. I don’t know. Only the sea does. Dolphins jump and ….
The hardest part of yoga, is getting on your mat. Almost every teacher I have come into contact with, as well as practitioner say that, myself included. It isn’t the level two three classes or the heated hundred degree room. It isn’t even remembering to breathe (though that is a close second) it is getting there. You might think really? ….
Writing is not a matter of choice. Writers have to write. It is somehow in their temperament, in the blood, in tradition. ~ N. Scott Momaday Sundays aren’t just for God. They are for writing too. Obviously I am being facetious. But after a Friday night and Saturday, Sundays are the perfect day to begin again. Why wait for ….
I love unique, locally made things. The stories behind the product. The passion and yes, even the blood sweat and tears the maker had to endure to get their goods out into the world inspires me. Like with anything artistic, whether it be a writer, a jeweler, or a bag designer, their are hundreds and thousands of nos, amongst that ….
Being in Boston the other week, I was saddened to see all the rinks closing. I know, I know, it means spring is close, and I am ecstatic about that. I am. I just wish the rinks were open year round. There is literally nothing like an outdoor rink. Growing up in New Hampshire, the local indoor rink wasn’t even ….
I was walking with a client about two years ago, when she paused and told me to look up. I had no idea what she was talking about. But I stopped and did what she said. As we gazed up at the tops of apartment buildings with shrubbery on the decks. The ornate cascades that framed the sides of the ….
Their are times like today, where I wish I could be a little kid again, where the biggest catastrophe was cutting to much hair off the heads of my American Girl Dolls. Or how I was going to make more then seven monies from my father, so I could buy another princess figurine from the Disney Store. It is ironic ….
You have probably noticed that I have a huge problem. A gigantic problem. Time to intervene problem. This is bigger then being a coffee or martini junkie. I am an Anthro Addict. What is an Anthro Addict you might ask? Well Anthro is what Anthropologie calls their rewards members. And what groupies call Anthropologie for short. Example A “Hey Kristine ….
My style is very definitely BoHo. It has been from the time I was a teenager. I still remember my knitted ponchos from Limited Two (remember Limited Two?) So when Kimonos made a comeback last year, I died and went to Kimono heaven. Now I am not talking about the Silk Kimonos ah la Disney’s Mulan. Those are traditional Japanese ….
I am a self professed hat junkie. Hats are a girls best friend. They are perfect for bad hair days. Lazy days, or just because you want to feel like Marlene Dietrich. Hats give a bit of glamour as well as anonymity. Hats are perfect for the beach not just to cover your wet, salty stringy locks, but also shield ….