Dreams of Eames...

Earlier this week, while valiantly fighting off a savage stomach bug, I had chance to catch up on some much needed rest and watch a few documentaries via PBS (God bless those people, wouldn't know what I'd do without 'em).

One such visual and intellectual morsel was "Eames: The Architect and the Painter".

Highly -highly- recommend catching it while it's still available to stream. I had never known much about the Eames legacy outside of a few (though admittedly very cool) chairs. Now I am much more enlightened. :)

One particular point of Eames-ness I became acquainted with and further fell in love with: The Eames House (aka Case Study House no.8).

Behold what mid-summer scented flights of fancy are made of:

{via Wikipedia}

{via the LA Times}

{both via cyberquirky.org}

I -have- been converted to the color block/Mondrian window idea...tempted to go at mine with some festively colored cellophane and masking tape...

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Thanks for being so awesome Charles and Ray...

Merry Christmas to all...

"For to us a child is born, to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace."
~
Isaiah 9:6

das Pusteblume

...

and we held

too tightly

to what the dandelions said

das Pusteblume promised

love and fortune

laughter and pretty boys

...

but their spell weakened

with the icy rain of winter's stay

the tiny chutes of fluff and heartbeats

withered

against that gale of stones

that is the final shudder

of summer's reign

...

these weeds of childhood

the unfulfilled and unrealized

forever sprout

in the remembered past

waiting...

waiting...

to be seized

...

Heart-Throbs On Ra-ra-repeat

Deja vu, anyone?

(Chris Evans & Ricky Nelson respectively)

While their mugs share a striking resemblance,
Ricky just might have a leg up on Chris when it comes to the whole singing schtick...

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History's never been one to forget a pretty face...
and it seems God is quite keen on keeping up with the demand.
Not that anyone's complaining... ;)

You remind me of a man...

So it seems there is no strain of the beastly "Blues" illness that can't be remedied with a little Cary Grant...

The magical healing power of Archie is profound
and smells slightly of sandalwood, shoe polish, and smouldering cigars...

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