Author: cdelacuadra

Always a reader. Sometimes a traveler. Usually an archivist. Often a writer. Frequently a musician. Constantly a student of life.

I ❤️ Block Shop

~ cdelacuadra ~ 2 Comments
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Oxbow scarf

Next in my little series on makers I love and support, allow me to introduce Block Shop textiles.  I love their products, and love their company ethos.  Their Oxbow scarf is draped around my neck as I type this!

Block Shop is a textile studio run by two sisters based in Los Angeles and Jaipur.  They design on paper, print with wooden blocks, and dye in small batches. And the best part?  Not only do they employ local artisans and use vegetable and mineral dyes in keeping with local textile traditions, they invest 5% of annual profits in their Bagru women’s empowerment program.

Their website and Instagram have photos and videos that highlight the hand block printing process, which fascinated and delighted me.  It is so easy to buy things with a click these days that I think our curiosity about making and creating has fallen by the wayside.  Block Shop is doing a great job reawakening inquisitiveness.

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Hand block printing process
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Dyed textiles drying in the sun

Block Shop’s textiles are simple and beautiful, and I covet the serene simplicity of their woodblock prints.  This bright and cozy corner designed by Emily Henderson is everything I want in a room.  And I would fill my entire house with their pillows and quilts if I could!

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Sunwave and Sidewinder prints
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Ripple pillow
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Acadia kantha quilt

With Block Shop textiles, I love that I can feel good about the products they offer.  I can purchase a well-considered item to have and use forever, created by hand with time-honored methods.  I hope you find a little inspiration in what they do, and perhaps something beautiful for your own home as well!

Via Block Shop textiles

Getting warmer

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My visit to the Metamorphosis & Migration exhibit, Oakland Museum of California.

Yesterday on Cup of Jo, the fantastic Caroline Donofrio wrote about a five-word quote that she said changed her life: “Cool is an emotional straightjacket.”

Whoa.  Whoa.  That really got me thinking.  It really is.  How often do we censor ourselves for fear of what other people will think about us?  Maybe it is reining in enthusiasm about an interest that isn’t “cool enough,” or swallowing a sentiment because we feel obligated to “play it cool.”  Maybe it is putting down other women to seem like the “cool girl.”  Or maybe it is putting that favorite sweater/jacket/scarf/hat/whatever back in the closet with a sigh, wishing it were still “cool.”

The prospect of living my life in an invisible straightjacket seems terribly sad.  We are bombarded by admonitions to just “be yourself,” to “live authentically.”  But what does this mean?  I like to think I am forging my own path.  But when I get dressed in the morning, when I chime into a conversation, when I choose the restaurant for a group night out?  I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want the approval of others.

Perhaps this is a part of that ever-elusive self-care: to truly allow ourselves to be.  Be unique, be freer with our affections, be engrossed by the things that make us smile, be supportive of our fellow women without fear of not being “cool enough,” be unencumbered by what we think is expected of us in a million tiny ways.  Of course, this is an enormously difficult task.  But by recognizing this propensity for what it is rather than move invisibly constricted through our days , we can make an important first step.  Recognize that second-guessing, recognize the holding back, and act accordingly.

Caroline closes with his gem: “After all, the opposite of cool… is warm. Doesn’t that sound nice?”  It does, Caroline.  It really does.

 

Enamored with emerald

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Today I’m swooning over pink and green interiors, specifically the richness that emerald can bring to a space.  (I suppose it is no small surprise that I have an emerald velvet couch in my living room!)  These spaces, with their warm woods and pretty blush accents, are a delight and an inspiration.

 

Via inattendu  witanddelight  monologuelondon  kipandco  petitepassport  vogue  domino  designhunger  batessmart  emilyhenderson

The small and the daily

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“Because it’s true: more than the highlights, the bright events, it was in the small and the daily where she’d found life.”

-Lauren Groff, Fates and Furies

I took this photo while walking my dogs one morning, utterly struck by these tiny perfect flowers in the most unexpected place.  They were an excellent reminder that beauty doesn’t always come with fanfare — sometimes it is the smallest little detail of a daily routine that can make us smile the most.

Two great books

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Last week I dove headfirst into a pair of great novels, one after the other.  Both were intimate, searing looks at love, relationships, and life.

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Call Me By Your Name is one of the most achingly beautiful books I have read in a while.  This love story unfolds over a few weeks of summer in Italy, and is poignant in ways I can’t quite find the words for.  We inhabit the head of the protagonist, inhabit the sleepy Italian villa, and at the same time we feel every dull throb of longing from every past desire in our own lives.  I read this in a night and a day, and was gripped from start to finish.  André Aciman’s prose is tender and desperate by turns, fleshing out a love that is somehow both fleeting and transcendent.  An exquisite read that will leave you thinking about love and life and the way each changes the other for years to come.

fates_and_furies_coverFates and Furies gripped me just as much, but in an entirely different way.  Like Call Me, I couldn’t put it down, and finished it in less than two days.  This novel, too, explores a relationship, this time between a husband and wife over the course of their marriage (and beyond).  I’m not even actually sure if I enjoyed it, per se, but it was an intense experience to see their relationship from both sides of the coin.  It was very thought-provoking, and I think I am still digesting it — I haven’t started another book yet for that very reason.  One takeaway from this novel for me is the fact I want to be known.  I want to feel understood and loved for me, not for a construct someone has in their mind.  And I don’t want to be left with an impotent rage over the paths my life has taken (or not).  But then on the other hand, can we ever really know another person, truly?  We inhabit this body in this life, and everyone else is relegated to observer by default.  How much can we know?  How much can we be known?  Lauren Groff’s style is very compelling, and once you wander into this Greek drama, you’ll want to stay and ponder long after the curtain closes.

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S’il vous plait

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I’m starting the week with a bit of attitude.  Mondays call for a little grit and determination sometimes, no?  This jacket is the perfect middle ground between a prim tweed and a classic biker.  Paired with a red lip, a great jean, a signet ring for my index finger, and a little je ne sais qoui, I’m facing the week head-on.

Frayed hem woven biker jacket  Cafe au lait tee (similar)  Red longwear lipstick  Distressed blue jeans  Fox signet ring

…and morning seemed light-years away

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Interior view, SFMOMA

“Twenty years was yesterday, and yesterday was just earlier this morning, and morning seemed light-years away.”

-André Aciman, Call Me By Your Name

Time is such a fickle, fluid thing.  We swim through it daily, but understand it so little.  Some hours drag, while days can flash by in what feels like an instant.  I’m not sure there is anything we immerse ourselves in so completely that we experience in such varied and mysterious ways, except for maybe love.

The sting of defeat

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Colorado bowl via Anthropologie

If you’d like a little chuckle on this sunny Wednesday, allow me to take you on a hilarious harrowing journey involving suspense, confusion, ceramics, and ultimately, defeat.

A couple months ago, Anthropologie released their spring catalog of home goods. It was a visual delight after all the red/evergreen/gold of the holidays — pinks and whites and fresh greenery abounding in sun-drenched abodes.  My eye landed on a particular pink ceramic footed bowl, and I instantly coveted it.  Once it arrived in stores, I’d make it mine.  Of course, thanks to the magic of advertising, I had thoroughly bought into the whole scene: sweet clementines in the bowl promising citrus-y sunny afternoons, books galore to savor — I wanted the whole package.

Fast forward a few weeks, Continue reading “The sting of defeat” →