February is a month of romance. Yes, there is one day in particular associated with love and lust. But the entire month is a sweet, tentative marriage between winter and spring, the first delicate blush of blooms and sun and fresh air amidst bursts of fiercely cold rain and snow. When I think of February, I think of pinks and reds and purples, of love and lust and romance and wintry sunrises. I think of lingerie, flickering candles, beautiful words, but also of a time to peer into spring from the last gasp of winter and prepare for what's ahead. This month I started (a little late, I suppose) planning for what is to come in 2014. I bought a beautiful planner from local San Francisco artist Julia Kostreva, where I've been setting my life in ink rather than digital words that disappear amidst a sea of apps on a little screen. For the romance portion of the month, I've given my sleeping attire a much-needed adult update and invested in a black silk nightgown, indulged in a rather large Voluspa cut glass jar candle from Anthropologie, and read the inspired love poems of Pablo Neruda. And then there are the shoes - the perfect pair of black booties, which drove me an hour out of the way on my recent trip to LA to pick up the last pair of 6 1/2s in all of California. February was a good month for some quality shopping.
instantanés
Snapshots of my daily life in Paris. You know that saying about how the little things are what makes you happy, or some such variation of that? I have found it to be particularly relevant lately. From top to bottom: a Bordeaux as a candle holder in my room; the Asniéres-sur-Seine city hall; an impromptu flower market; duck confit searing in the pan; a cage of parakeets found near Notre Dame; baguette with caprese fillings; view from my French classroom window, Rue Poissonnière, 2nd arrondissement; hot chocolate and an almond croissant on a Sunday morning.