If Everybody Had an Ocean

Well, hello there! I’m Rebecca from The Reluctant Floridian. Despite the name of my blog, I actually call California home now, which puts me closer to one of my dreams: learning to surf. (Yes, I could have learned to surf in Florida, but the consensus is that Florida waves suck.) I may have grown up in the most landlocked of states (Kansas!), but I know that deep inside me, there is a surfer girl who longs to get out. I love songs about surfing, surf documentaries, and, unsurprisingly, surf photography. Which brings us to another one of my dreams: owning a LeRoy Grannis—the godfather of surf photography—original. Like this, say:

Waimea Bay (No. 58), 1973 (M+B Gallery)

Or this:

Duke Contest Finalists, Sunset Beach, 1968 (M+B Gallery)

Additionally, I’ve always wanted a giant surfing photo mural in my house. Molly Luetkemeyer designed this bathroom with me in mind:

M. Design Interiors

On her blog, Luetkemeyer explains that she finagled the photo from Surfer Magazine, and had it made into wallpaper. (Can non-designer folk do this? If so, I want in.)

True story: I have subscribed to the Mollusk Surf Shop newsletter for ages and ages and always (incorrectly) assumed they were solely in San Francisco. But there’s also one down the block (give or take a few miles) in Venice! Huzzah. In addition to stocking the requisite boards and clothes, Mollusk collaborates with a sweet stable of artists, like Andy Davis, whose work puts a smile on my face.

Andy Davis

I kind of want to hang out in his studio:

Andy Davis

You know how sometimes you walk into a store and your heart races a little bit, and you can, perhaps, hear angels singing? For some, this is Anthropologie. For me, this is Surfing Cowboys, another spot in Venice. The people behind this place have got my number. Old surfboards? Want.

Surfing Cowboys

Old furniture? Need.

Surfing Cowboys

They even have a house line of clothing printed with vintage-inspired graphics. And, they have a blog, where they offer this sage advice:

We see surfing as a metaphor for life.  Bringing a surfboard inside is like bringing the sun, the sand and the surf into your living room.  You can almost smell our Mother Ocean and ride mind waves.

I’m considering this permission to buy a surfboard even if I never learn to use it. (Don’t judge. I’m riding mind waves.)

Run With the Bulls

99.9% of the time I'd say I'm way too chickenshit to run with the bulls in Pamplona. Mostly I enjoy the marked lack of extraneous holes in my body, but also I am just lazy. I mean, it looks like you have to run really really fast to avoid being gored by a giant razor sharp bull horn. Does that sound like relaxing good times? Not particularly. But .01% of me doesn't want a relaxing good time. Part of me craves adventure -- the adrenaline rush of living life on the daring edge of inexorable boldness. Bolditude. Boldosity. Yeah.

I'm probably not taking my death wish to the Spanish streets anytime soon (and if I do, somebody please stop me), but I do have the overwhelming urge to shake things up. A little.

Nicolas Matheus

From the Right Bank

Gramercy Park Hotel

All the black and brown in my house is pretty (I hope) but not so adventurous. Maybe too timid and relaxing. Comfortable. Now I'm not saying I'm planning a stampede of sorts, but perhaps a little flash and danger is in order.

Or maybe I just need one of those jackets.

And now, an important announcement: tomorrow the hilariously talented Rebecca of The Reluctant Floridian (who no longer lives in Florida) will be guest posting right here...

I know! Right here!

You simply must tune in to check her out. The power of Crisis compels you.

See you dudes tomorrow.

I Am About To Philosophize On Your Ass

In case you don't already know, Jenny of My Favorite and My Best has opened up a whopper of an excellent discussion about trends you hate. A lot of people had oodles to say on the subject -- it seems most of us are tired of seeing the same stuff endlessly recycled, co opted, and manicured, into cookie cutter rooms that look pretty in pictures. It really got me thinking that I'm super fatigued from seeing the same trends over and over again, but there are very few things that I truly hate, no matter the context. Well, I'm not so fond of this poster:

We've all seen it a zillion times and that certainly adds to my general sense of malaise here. But also, I just don't like art with words on it. Never have. Oh, well, except for Barbara Kruger.

So now I am already a hypocrite, because it seems that I do, on occasion, enjoy art with words on it. To add insult to injury, a few days ago, I saw this:

Yep, those words. On art. By my own logic, I should hate, right? And yet, I have mad respect for Louise Bourgeois, one of the coolest ladies that has ever graced this earth. If I grow up to be even a fraction as awesome as she was, I will consider myself, well... awesome.

So, I suppose what I want to say in my own rambling way is that I am trying to be less reactionary.

Am I implying that we can't ever say we really dislike -- maybe even hate -- something? God no. That would be boring. But I personally am going to take a page from Nietzsche and exercise my will to power. To a large extent, that means living according to one's own instincts. In decor terms, we can be inspired by many things, but just aping trends produces superficiality. In the same way, hating trends just because they're trendy is -- perhaps -- equally superficial. And it closes off a hell of a lot of possibilities.

Pretend you're living in a cave and the rest of the world doesn't exist. Do you honestly love it? Well, then keep it.

To Cranky Girl, the commenter on MFAMB's site who owns an original Keep Calm poster because it has ties to her family and specific value to her, I say: display that ugly poster proudly. If it's meaningful to you, who cares what anyone else thinks?

Even me.