mark shaw

Okay, so he was able to photograph some iconic figures, but it sure seems like Mark Shaw could make anyone look beautiful.

I'm not a fan of those Olan Mills-type portraits. Anything that screams out "Sears!!!" is not good. Rhiannon, my five-year-old, has never had a portrait done in a studio, because I love candid shots so much.

That said, I know some amazing photogs (check out my friend Macey Snelson's work - even her family portraits have a different feel than most I've seen) and I'm hoping to someday get them to work some magic on me and my family. Although it's not hard to make Pooka look good:

fall

I have always always ALWAYS looked forward to fall. I love school supplies and fall fashion - which I'm sure surprises people that have only known me in recent years, the "don't-do-your-hair-and-wear-the-same-five-outfits-every-week" years, as some have started to call them. Anyone who knew me back in the day, though, knows that I fight a very powerful addiction to clothing and style. I once had a $4000 limit on my Express card. Calm down, I never maxed-it out or anything.

Where was I? Oh, yeah...
I was apprehensive about what would be popular this season, though. I haven't been fond of the weird baby doll shirts that make everyone look seven months pregnant and the jeans that make even thin people have a spare tire and plumber's crack. What's the deal with wanting to look as odd-shaped as possible?

And there are a few looks so far this fall that have made me cringe. I blame the return to the 80s and Lady GaGa. Been there, done that, wore it on the cover of the yearbook.

But there are some great looks that I am excited about. Anything that makes me think of Kate Hepburn, Ali McGraw and Lauren Bacall is most welcome.

flamenco

As busy as I am training for the marathon, working two jobs, raising a five-year-old daughter (and 37-year-old husband...), and trying to keep friendships alive, I don't have the time to add another item to my schedule.

As soon as I have an opening, though, I'm learning to flamenco dance.The music, the pace, the dresses - it's passionate & intense. I know most people think I'm a goofball, but underneath all that is a dancer waiting to be loosed in a billow of silk and flounce.

Someday.

home sweet home

Or I wish it were, anyway.

This is a listing my boss has on the market. It's beautiful. It's not a huge house, but it has a lot of space, and 2007 sf is nothing to sneeze at (wow, I'm so retro in my verbiage today - time for more sleep).

If I could pick it up and put it on some property I love east of Boise, I would.

Oh, and if I had the money to move a house, of course.

the espace medissey - bois de villers, belgium

Once upon a time, in 1988 when I was just 16, I went to Belgium. It was amazing, full of beautiful architecture and great people. I fell in love with it. Sadly, I haven't made it over there since.

I traveled all over the small country, but home base was a small village outside Namur called Bois de Villers. When I make it back - and I will - I want to stay at the Espace Medissey in that same village.

Belgium is gorgeous with history, and I know that I will be seeing buildings that are older than my country daily. Because of this, I want to stay someplace modern to cleanse the palate, if you will. Then it'll be back to visiting castles that were parked there before Columbus sailed the ocean blue and bars established in the 15th century.

another reason to brush up on my german...

I was Googling the Helbich House in Dortmund, Germany (because I'm both a Google addict and a modern design addict...and a coffee addict and...well, there's a reason this blog is called Bulleted List), and found this site. It made me want to throw out this whole impoverished Bohemian artist thing and become a hard-core capitalist whose only focus is wealth, the pursuit of more wealth, and all the goodies wealth brings.

Many clicks later I found photographer Christian Eblenkamp's website and made the concrete decision to become filthy rich so I can live in a house like this one:

Try not to judge me too harshly.