Showing posts with label personal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label personal. Show all posts

Apr 26, 2018

A DECADE OF BIJOU LIVING


silk moth in a jelly moon Hornby 2018

A decade—ten years—sounds like a long time. I don't really have any concept of time—it's either "now" or "not now." I live in the moment—the adhd posse will relate.


Bijou Living started ten years ago, on May 5, 2008. I started writing to share cool things, give tips/techniques, and journal my thoughts and feelings. Where have I been since my last post? 


Life happens...




2016


divorce

California

start pottery

soul searching

old love, new heartbreak

good friends

laughter

peace


2017


happiness

inspiration

closure

confidence

laughter

sensuality

love

gratification

peace


Jan - Apr. 2018


achievement

stamina

good friends

soul searching

peace

...



Leslie, at The Bloomerie (Arbutus and 12th), saw my pottery on Instagram and contacted me to purchase some pieces. Donald Yim saw my pottery at the Bloomerie and called me for an interview. Here's the fun video we did! The soundtrack most definitely steals the show...


January 2018 saw the first major retrospective of Thomas Kakinuma's ceramic art, and I'm proud to have been involved in it. 



Remember my Kakinuma post ten years ago? The Kakinuma family reached out to me in 2015 as they'd read the post. We met shortly after, and a beautiful friendship has evolved.



May 26, 2018 - I'll be selling my studio pottery (my work) as part of a small conglomerate of West Van potters (there are only 16 of us). We'll be at the West Van Community Centre from 10 to 3. You can view what I'll be selling on my Instagram. Please come say hi—I'll tell you the story behind each piece.


I've been locked out of Facebook. I post regularly on Instagram, head on over that way - Instagram - Stories is where I share the behind-the-scenes stuff. Chat later, Stacy ✌🏻




Apr 30, 2016

check check one

Please come visit me on Instagram, TumblrPinterest and Etsy



April 2016 - In French they say, 'Je suis fatigué'. Fatigué is a good word to describe the state of my inspiration over the past year - or in English, fatigued.  My inspiration feels frightened. An inspiration that needs to be coaxed out of hiding and tenderly guided into the dawn of a new land.


I'm just getting revved up. I'll be in LA for the month of May hangin' with my cousin's cat Wes. Taking the PCH down from San Francisco and chillin' the heck out. Lunch reservations at Chez Panisse, helping out a friend at the Rose Bowl Flea Market, night viewing of the Stahl Residence, and dropping by my old Alma Mater the Pickwick Vintage Show on May 29th - stoked about that - I can shop it this time, (for crazy lady in Vancouver clothes).

Here's a checklist of what I've been pondering as of late:


Fashion - the elderly Chinese ladies of Vancouver (per usual), Incredible String Band, and a smidgen of Hole (MTV Awards 1995). Hey, I've met quite a few guys in Vancouver lately with great style. There's Jacob over at Nordstrom (near the Chloe bags), Nigel at Gravity Pope and Mohammed who was at Gravity Pope but is now at Blanche MacDonald. If you're into men's street style go check out the kids hanging out on their 10:30 smoke break in front of BCIT downtown then watch them drive off in their Maseratis and Bentleys at 3:30.


Architecture -  There have been 787 demolition permits issued in the District of West Vancouver since 2010 - 174 in 2015 alone (population of West Van is 43,000). You know I left West Van in 2014 - or was it 2015? I left because I was frustrated by the mowing down of all the West Coast Modern homes. Well, turns out the District has voted unanimously to curb the size of McMansions. Here are the minutes of the meeting from December 2015. Too little too late in my opinion. The City of Vancouver issued 267 demolition permits in the first three months of 2016. If Mayor Gregor Robertson is tooting the greenest city horn - let's challenge him on the effect of the demolition cycle on landfills. I lived in Pt. Grey for six months (story in my next post). It was like a ghost town - no community, no neighbours hanging out in their yards shooting the shit, no cats rolling on the sidewalk, no sound of children playing in their yards. I moved eight blocks East and what a change! I was walking down Second last night and a group of people were having a glass of wine - they invited me to join them -  I did!


That being said how long do you think this house two blocks over from me is going to sit vacant?


Interiors - I moved again in February - four times in one year.

Music - I have some playlists up on YouTube if you want to check out what I've been listening to.  Electric Moon, JJUUJJU, Federale, Moon Duo, A Place to Bury Strangers, Roy Harper, Bridget St. John, Magic Carpet and of course classical Indian music.


Personal - Remember those Choose Your Own Adventure books from our childhood? I'll leave my adventure to you. Perhaps you've been following my other pages, perhaps you know my real adventure or perhaps I'm living vicariously through one you've chosen. Whichever - know this - everyone deserves a love story.


Design - I was contacted by the family of Thomas Kakinuma - the midcentury BC ceramicist that I've written about. They'd read a blog post I did and wanted to gift me a piece of his work. I went to their beautiful home and what's transpired is a wonderful friendship and a possible show at the UBC Museum of Anthropology (two year curation time but we're working on a small show in a different venue). You can see some of the images of his works I was able to photograph at his home posted over on my Facebook page.

Random - I've been so deeply moved by all the spiritually profound stolen images defaced with free hand font floating around my feeds. Please read this journal article On the Reception and Detection of Pseudo-Profound Bullshit.





Thanks for sticking around - I really value your readership! 






May 26, 2015

Don't you ask me to give you a song

Bruno Freschi for Erickson Massey, 1967, Chartwell Place, West Vancouver, BC. © stacy reynaud

What am I going to write about? 
I need to be inspired. I haven't seen any good design pieces or heard any original music at all lately - 
although I do listen to my 70s Dudes playlist usually three times a day. 
You know what, though? 
The nice thing about having a blog is that it's my blog, and I can write whenever and about whatever I want. 
It's been seven years now, eh? Seven years! 
I remember when I was seven. 
Elvis died. 
My family and I went and saw Star Wars on opening night at the Stanley on Granville I'm a Han Solo kinda gal. Although Lando and his cape did give Han a run for his money - but just for a bit - until Han was f
rozen, then I felt guilty. 
Grade Seven, I remember Grade Seven. Mr. Coleman was my teacher, and Amy was my best friend. 
My hair was long and feathered to the side, and I liked drawing. 

What else? Hmm, how about the seven months in Kits before we were evicted? Yes. Seven months. Nope, not going to go into the whole ordeal. 
One word - Vancouver. 
You can look it up if you're interested.


me 1998

Okay, so I finished my philosophy course at UBC. 
My last paper was, What is Death? 
I finished the course with the same GPA I had twenty years ago, so at least I'm not getting any dumber. 
It'd been a while since I'd last been intense, so I thought it was about due time. 
For future reference, it might be less painful to just Jiffy than on a Stanfield's to remember - Intense (in all caps). 
It's the academic writing style that's painful, not the thinking. 
I'd hoped that style had disappeared with the 20th Century but no such luck. 
Ah, but wait! The Writing a Romance Novel workshop I took! 
What a fun day that was. 
There were only three of us - me, an eighty-year-old woman, and the instructor - who, by the way, was awesome. 
I'd tell you her name, but it's packed in my books in a bedroom box. 
What I can tell you is that she's a member of the West End Writer's Club, wears blue eye shadow and used to live in the Caribbean. 
A Gen X'er, a Baby Boomer and a Golden Oldie. 
You need to remember, of course, that in your 20s, you're living the romance novel, so you don't need to know how to write it. 
I'm working on one in my head - or is it an autobiography? 
So, that Kim Gordon book. What did you think? I need to read it again. 
Not because it's so friggin' good but just so I can understand it better - then I'll let you know. 
Kind of like when I heard In Utero for the first time. 
Can you please tell me that Virginia Woolf isn't as pretentious as she's coming across in Moments of Being
She's Tumblr famous, you know. 
Oh My Cat, speaking of pretentious - you need to watch - no, no, you have to watch Schitt's Creek. 
Catherine O'Hara. Can she be any cooler? 
The coolest Canadian in my books (and Anne Murray.)


Oh yeah. We went to a cider workshop in Mt. Vernon a couple weekends ago. 
I stopped paying attention after an hour into it. 
I cheated off Brad's notes. Joking. 
Those people who cheat - they don't end up making it - they fail at life. 
Why? 
Because you can't cheat reality.

Sometimes my cat Tilley smells like a Cowichan sweater. 
Sometimes she smells like one of those sleeping bags from the 70s. 
That's what she smells like right now. 
I love those sleeping bags. 
The ones with the flannel lining with images of camping scenes or ducks and guns. Hey, remember going over to a guy's house, and he'd have one of those sleeping bags as a bedspread (or was it his only blanket)? 
Holy mackerel, what a trendsetter. 

The sun came out.

top image: Bruno Freschi for Erickson Massey, 1967, Chartwell Place, West Vancouver, BC. © stacy reynaud
bottom image: © Lucasfilm Ltd

my instagram
my tumblr
my facebook

Jan 16, 2015

Hunky-dory



So, how are things? Keeping yourself occupied and sane, I hope.

You know those, What I'd tell my younger self, posts you see everywhere? I won't do one of those because there's nothing I'd tell my younger self not to do. I had a very awesome time as a younger self. Yeah, there were moments I felt like I'd been thumped in the head by the cross-section of a large halibut, but whatever. 
No regrets here! None. Zippo. Zilch. 
That was my life, and I think it was awesome.

Remember back in the winter of 2013 when I was working with the doctors at the UBC Mood Disorders clinic? Well, I wasn't sold on their diagnosis (they actually couldn't determine between three), so I sought out a second opinion. After seven months of waiting to get in to see a specialist and four months of weekly appointments, which required I bring in some 'collateral' (my report cards from elementary school and high school), I was diagnosed with ADHD combined with a few episodes of major depression. I was misdiagnosed as bipolar back in 2013. I didn't think I was bipolar. 

Apparently, it's common for bipolar and ADHD to get mistaken for each other. I never went on the drugs (lithium) the UBC doctor suggested. My family Dr. didn't feel the diagnosis was concrete enough either, so she didn't push it and helped me seek out a second opinion. 

I'll tell you this, though, my ADHD was making me feel like I was going crazy because I had so many things going on in my head. Seriously, your mind really doesn't stop thinking. I've been taking Wellbutrin since 2009. My Dr. prescribed it for depression, and it slowed down all the talking in my head, which has helped me focus. Now I only have between six to eight things going on in there when it used to be between fifteen to twenty. 

I'm still going to be working with the specialist (doing cognitive behavioural therapy) every week for who knows how long. My main concern is working on how not to fall back into depression or at least how to cope if I do. That's a dark and frightening place. Read H.P. Lovecraft's short story The Outsider; in my opinion, it's a good unintentional metaphor.

The thing about ADHD is you get bored quickly. Agh - so bored! One of the challenges is trying to remain 'responsible' when you just want to fuck off somewhere and do something new! I'm trying some new things for fun  - strictly fun. Being responsible shouldn't have to eliminate fun. Ever notice it really pisses some people off when you have fun? Lighten up, for fuck's sake.

My fun things planned so far for January - April:
  1. philosophy classes at UBC - okay, I dropped one already - Metaphysics and Epistemology. I dropped it nineteen years ago too! Now, I'm taking one - Philosophy of Mind with Evan Thompson. I'm taking it because it's in line with my train of thought over the past year, and I want to write about it. I'm thinking about going on to do my Masters but who knows. I already have a UBC degree in History.
  2. check this one out - a creative writing workshop this weekend, How to Write a Romance Novel. Haha! Might as well! Think of the people I'll meet! I'll tell them my genre is Space Erotica.
  3. spa day at Willow Stream with my friend - how normal? Not really - not for me, at least! I don't like people touching me, so I'm strictly using the steam room, sauna, hot tub and cocktail menu. Shit, I just realized I don't own a bathing suit. To tell you the truth, I'd be more comfortable nude than in a bathing suit.
  4. short story - I'm pulling together something around quantum consciousness, the macabre and utopia
Okay, I will tell my younger self something. Don't make one of those stupid lists of things to tell your younger self when you're older.

Live well and live now.

Jun 22, 2014

Please pop by my other channels



stacy reynaud

No, Bijou Living hasn't turned into a Craigslist Vancouver feed! We're moving, and I'm too busy (and moody) to devote enough time and creativity to composing long blog posts. However, I've been posting quickies on my InstagramTumblr, and Facebook pages, so if you're so inclined, please come by for a snoop. Have I told you lately how much I value your readership? Well, I do, so thank you!

images from top: Bijou Living on Facebook, Bijou Living on Instagram, Bijou Living on Tumblr





May 14, 2014

Where have all the Conversationalists gone?


Last Wednesday, I was feeling good. The sun was out, I was in my favourite part of downtown, and I felt inspired and alive - like my good old manic days that would last for weeks. The ones where I'd start four businesses, thrift shop for 12 hrs straight and forget to eat. Am I in denial to miss that? Anyway, feeling so inspired and alive, I automatically thought of my friend Ken and our hours-long vintage and fashion conversations, so I headed off to shoot the shit with him down at Deluxe - then I remembered Ken was dead. So I thought, well Rod will be there, I'll go shoot the shit with him, then I remembered Deluxe was gone - closed due to a $3000 a month rent hike. Okay, no need to get down, I'll go talk design with someone at Inform. Well, the only bodies at Inform were ones glued to computer screens behind cash desks. Five bucks, they're practicing the snobby sales technique identified in the UBC study, Should the Devil Sell Prada? Retail Rejection Increases Aspiring Consumers’ Desire for the Brand?

Well whatever, not yet feeling deflated I thought, 'Okay I'll go sit down and have a coffee somewhere.' Somewhere, conversation was already flowing, and I could at least be part of it. Uh, since when have coffee shops been so quiet? Not one person was engaged in vocal conversation with anyone. Not because they were glued to a book, writing, or staring off into space thinking, but because their heads were bent down, staring into their phones. Holy crap, people get with it. My public library has more conversations going on! I left without buying a coffee (or tipping someone for bending their arm beyond 85 degrees).

Highly irritated, I turned around and headed back home. On my way, a homeless man complimented me. (I was hoping to run into you, but I'd put a little extra effort in that day.) I turned around and said, 'Thanks.' He said, 'Anytime, sweetheart'. So, from now on, when I want to have a conversation, face to face with someone, I can feel confident the homeless guy at Water and Cambie will participate - and I guarantee he has a hell of a lot more stories and opinions to share than the dipsticks glued to their screens. What's that old saying, 'All text and no talk makes Jack a dull boy'?

God, I miss hanging out and just talking.

Stacy Reynaud
image: Simone Signoret, Marilyn Monroe, Arthur Miller, Yves Montand

Apr 30, 2014

My Morning Routine


The socks and clogs are mandatory.




Apr 3, 2012

Last Weekend



Picked up this vintage silk screen for our washroom at the highly anticipated annual 
West Vancouver Seniors' Flea Market.



25¢ for a Kosta Boda Zoo owl.



I'm very happy with this score from the WVS Flea Market. The images were on opposite ends of the table, but I spotted them. Voila! A mountaintop panorama—and yes, they're real photos.



Wild Alaskan Halibut season has begun! We poached halibut with ginger and avocado and served coconut jasmine rice as a side. We paired it with a Pinot Blanc. 



More food goodness! The BCLDB released their Spring edition of Taste magazine. Who has picked this free magazine up? You know how good it is.



I first saw Bandit last Thursday night when we were walking home from dinner. He has the cutest sideways scamper. I was lucky enough to run into him and his pal taking a walk on Saturday afternoon. It turns out Bandit is paralyzed. He was trying to befriend a deer on Bowen Island when the deer stomped on his back, breaking it. That was four years ago. Bandit is eight. He can't move his back legs, so his paws drag, hence the booties. I hope to run into Bandit more in the neighbourhood. He has such a good spirit!



Bandit


vintage Pyrex percolator coffee pot and Pyrex glass teapot

If you've been reading Bijou Living for a while, you know how much I love my coffee and my coffee maker. Whenever I find these vintage Pyrex percolators, I have to buy them—just in case I break one of mine, I'll have a backup. I bought these two at a yard sale on Saturday. The teapot has such a great design. $20 for both.



Weekend listening. Willie Nelson, Red Headed Stranger, 1975. 

These two have been living in our neighbourhood for a few years now—actually, they live next door. Last summer, one scooped up a dog from the sea walk. On Thursday, I opened my curtains to see one dive bomb and fly off with an unsuspecting seagull from the building next door. It was not a sight I wanted to see. I've heard rumblings around the building within the last 24 hours that a dog may have been scooped up again last weekend. 
Great, now I'll have anxiety strolling the seawalk.

Feb 29, 2012

He Asked About A Broken Heart


Someone recently asked me for advice on dealing with a broken heart. He defined his situation as one in which he'd 'lost his love'. I asked if he was referring to love as an animate or inanimate object. He answered animate but was inkling towards inanimate. To him, I answered something like this:

I believe in different kinds of love. In life, one may encounter many, a few, one, or maybe even none.

There is the love that hurts and makes one weep.
The love that poisons and makes one sick.
The teenage love one looks back on and smiles.
The love that one cannot remember
and the love that is comfortable and easy.

Those are the different kinds of love I know. There's s no use in trying to forget love. Love never dies. It's like a ghost summoned by one of our senses to appear at a certain sight, sound, taste, touch or smell. 

After a devastating breakup, someone once told me I should mourn its end. Treat it as if it had physically died, eulogize it, cry, bury it, and grieve. I did this. 

I wrote a eulogy for it and went and sat in the forest to mourn. I think I may have even worn black for a while. After all, if you're going to do it, you might as well do it right.

What have I learned?

Never compare the different kinds of love.
A broken heart will heal, yet a scar will remain.
Sometimes a scar hurts if it's bumped.
Don't bother trying to forget.
Accept that there are different kinds of love of different intensities.
The best way to love is to allow someone to love you.

It takes a minute to have a crush on someone, an hour to like someone and a day to love someone... but it takes a lifetime to forget someone. Khalil Gibran

Apr 19, 2011

A 1998 Collection of My Rejection Letters

One of the best things about writing your own blog is that you can save a fortune on self-addressed stamped envelopes.






















BUT
I did get accepted by Gerry Gilbert and that was the greatest compliment.



I have the tapes of our shows but have never listened to them.

The Return to Hornby