Past, Out!

As this year comes to an end I could simply sit and reflect on all that it had offered and taken away from me.  In fact, I could lament about the things I did wrong or should have done differently or how I didn't fully capture those fleeting moments I so respect to hold in my hands and heart.  I could also rejoice in what 2011 gave to me and  how I took hold of what was important and let go of the toxicity of life.   But instead of being redundant and overly reflective, I choose to take this past and throw it out.   Seems a bit volatile and perhaps unappreciative, but its what we need to do, more often than annually, to refresh ourselves and grow into being our best.   A year of twists and turns, ups and downs, whirlpools of emotion and global chaos has reminded me of the importance of learning, growing, listening and hearing.  

I will, however, share in what this year has brought to me: not things, but rather, energy.   I began 2011 with focus and control in my personal, public and work lives.  I knew if I just stayed in control and focused on the bigger pictures, the year would bring to me only what I could handle and manage without the noise. Truly, once committed to that perspective, the universe opened itself to me and I tangibly embraced each day as if it were the first day of the rest of my life.  Work got smoother, I personally grew more balanced and publicly, I was willing to show myself to the people and places I would normally resist.  Each night when I was ready to lay my head down for rest, I breathed easier with a sense of accomplishment.  I awoke with a world to conquer, me against it, but it wasn't daunting.  It was exhilarating.  Day by day, step by step, the universe offered me opportunities both great and small.   If we talk about the year as being divided into quarters, the first 2 quarters were brilliant and I thank them.   

3rd quarter!! I lost my focus and my balance.  I stopped capturing the right moments and became distracted by the wrong ones.  It only took a single distraction to throw off my balance and  momentum.  That single moment, again, which was wrongfully accepted into my world, took me on a ride for which I didn't wear my seat belt, thus, it was dangerous and empty.  I, on the other hand, tried all I knew to keep it in check.  It wasn't right, it didn't work, I lost my step.....it never should have happened.  But it did happen and as I began my last and final quarter of the year, I have come to let it pass as a brief experience and test of truth, ability, reaction, caution and endurance.   We all have things we so want to be better at and we all have things that keep us from actually being better.  But, we let those things happen to us, often times unconsciously.    We as people have the obligation to be our authentic self at all times both to ourselves and to others.  If we continue to be something we aren't or pose for the attention we crave, then we don't move forward.  We simply stay stationary with disrespect to yourself.  Time moves fast.  Why get tired out by not being truthful with yourself and others.  

So, as the 4th quarter began, so did  my new enlightened spirit.  Yes, there are those out there who will always be selfish and destructive.  Yes, everyday will not be our best days, but we still get out of bed each day to conquer the next day with the same guts.  I have come to realize that people may come into our lives to distract and interrupt us for their own benefit.  Others will come into our lives to capture the good energy we put forth and there are those who will come into our lives to enhance us and make us our best, or, at then very least, our better.   To love ourselves prevents us from harboring trickery towards others.    To be loved and knowing it stops us from hating.  I end the year on the same note for which it started for me.  For that, I am grateful.  I remain as knowing and capturing the moments as they come to me day by day.  I choose to take the past as let it remain in its archive.  A very good friend told me to not look into the past for answers but rather live in the day and look towards the future where I will find my answers, my peace.   He is right, thus... Past, OUT!!  Good bye to the past, hello to the present and I look forward to you, my future.  

Happy Holidays to all of you and thank you for reading my blogs this past year.  There are big things happening in 2012, not only for me, but for my friends I have now and the new ones I look forward to meeting.  

Best, 

Mike 

Show and Tell

I remember a time, in kindergarten, when once a week we were asked to bring something meaningful to us from home and stand in front of the class for a Show and Tell.   I brought such things as: my dog, homemade mittens that Helen, our babysitter made for me, leafs from the backyard, a birds nest from the neighbors tree, potatoes from the garden and, if I remember right, a new spring jacket with the school logo on it.   I loved Show and Tell.   I loved seeing the "stuff" my classmates would bring to class and ogle at each and every possession.  I remember Tom brought a Robin's egg!!! Cool, huh!! 

Why was show and tell so important when we were kids and why did the teachers promoted it on a weekly basis for an entire school year?  Recently, I realized the reason, perhaps. 

Every day and every year of our lives, as we trudge through our mazes, over hills, through dense fog, under water and around the obstacles, we are constantly "Showing and Telling".  But in a form of not just our "things", but also who we are as ourselves.  Showing the world who we are and Telling our stories.  At a job interview or client campaign, we Show our talents and Tell of our experience.  We Show potential friends and lovers who we are by our actions and Tell them what we are with our words describing who we are inside.  We gain wealth and Show off our purchases and we live with what we have modestly and Tell people how it works for us.  Sometimes we get angry and Show ourselves as vulnerable and sometimes we are filled with joy and Tell others how elated we are.   Everyone likes to Show off their talents, even if done so without fanfare, and everyone likes to Tell the stories of their journey through this complicated world, again, without fanfare.  You see, every one of us, no matter where you are in your life, where you're going in your life or where you have been in your life, we all just want to be seen and heard.  All of us, as we walk around each day bumping into each other, both figuratively and literally, just want to Show and Tell, right?  

It is our responsibility to listen to each other and see what is in front of us.  In that time, we have the option of walking away or standing by one another.  When we are shown from someone who they are, observe.  When we are told by someone who they are, listen.  Not all Show and Tell is positive, not all Show and Tell is negative, not all Show and Tell is obvious, but we need to see it and hear it.  When I walk out the door each day, I am ready for Show and Tell.   Some days, of course, I'd rather keep to myself and stay observant rather than exposed.  But most days, I want to be seen and heard as the person I have grown to be open to all the new challenges and people that come my way.   We forget to stop and look and listen so often in life.  I'm as guilty of that as everyone else.  In those times, there are moments that are fleeting that we never are able to capture.  Many great moments have been lost because I haven't taken a breathe and realized what is standing in front of me or running past me.   My favorite moments and lasting impressions have come from stopping to listen and see.  Good and bad, beautiful and ugly..they have been grand moments.  Even when someone thinks they are in control of themselves on every level as not to expose their fears, triumphs, goals and emotions, they still Show and Tell of themselves.  Just see them and hear them.  Its all there.  

As adults, we compress ourselves into hiding behind our faults and vulnerabilities.  We don't Show and Tell fully until we trust fully.   This is most evident with personal relationships. We are also busy which compromises our ability to stop and look and listen completely.  However, we also show our emotions and feelings as we trip through life.  But who is paying attention?  We are up, we are down, we are sideways with life.  Our past provides us with the nutrients to grow into our more authentic self.   If we dismiss our inner feelings and ignore our guts telling, we will miss out on the truth of existence.   If we could all go back to our childhood when Showing and Telling was safe, we could all be more of who we are to everyone who is willing to embrace us.   Life offers us many cross roads and mountains.   But there is never a "No Trespassing" sign at the beginning of the road or the base of the mountain.  We can walk the paths, we can climb the slope or we can just stay stationary and "hope" for the best.  Why not get to the finish line and Show and Tell of ourselves!  Stand on the mountain top and shout.   Someone will listen even if our voice is just a whisper.  And, if you listen and see others for who they truly are, you, in turn, will feel safe in your own Show and Tell.  

I have recently felt as though I have had a Show and Tell of my own where I had given it my all.  I believe I was heard, yet maybe misunderstood.  I was up, down, sideways and inside out.  Yet, I was truthful.  The feeling of revealing your whispers is not an easy expression, yet, if you are true to who you are, what you are, what you want to become, then it doesn't matter what the consequence.  What matters is that you were able to Show and Tell as your authentic self.  For that, you should be proud and unapologetic.   It takes experience and time to understand your own self and more time to understand your often times confusing feelings.  But when you do, life gets easier.  People become more understood.  As children we didn't know from hiding our inner self.   As adults, we know better.   What if we could capture that child's perspective and let it all out?  I think we would be better people to one another.   I will continue to Show and Tell the birds nest of who I am.  For it is that birds nest that twines together everything I am today.  

by chance

"Life throws us curve balls", we've all heard this over and over again.  We have the opportunity to hit that ball out of the park or miss it and wait for the next throw.   Not always, however, do we realize the outcome of each throw or the complexity of the homerun.

Recently, I was thrown a curve ball.  In fact, it came at me from a virtual place when neither I was expecting it nor waiting for it.   Either way, it caught me off guard.  Now, don't get me wrong, it was a great throw.  And, in fact, it was a possible home run once I realized it was the perfect pitch.  It headed towards me straight over the plate with precise aim and candid spin. It was honest and with good intent and without looking, eyes shut and heart open, I was ready for it although unexpectedly.  Funny isn't it?  When that curve ball is coming at you at full speed you seem to be able to verify its worthiness and plan your response.  In my case, I hit that ball so hard there was no way I was going to strike out.  I knew it was worth the swing and planned for it hit into the sky...to the moon.   As the ball was flying upward I concentrated, intently to make it to the first base, the second base, the third base and, finally, home plate. I've been running towards the score without caution or perspective.  All I've wanted was this score for which I always new I'd get, I just didn't know when...this was my opportunity.  Is it so much the score? Or, rather, the journey of the ball as it scraped past trees and buildings into the sky.  Lets face it, the ball eventually has to land falling with speed out of its thrust into the great unknown.  When it lands, then what?  Does it roll under a bush to hide? Does it land in the hands of another unsuspecting person? Or does it simply plunk down and take a deep breathe and realize its journey was purposeful and exhilarating?  As I caught my breathe after running the bases I too realized I didn't look back into the sky to watch that lonely ball venture to its new land.  Should I have concentrated more on the journey of the ball and its purpose or should I have done what I did and kept running towards the outcome?  There is no answer.

Once settled down, heart beat calming and adrenaline subsiding, I caught my breathe and realized that I had done something I had never done before now.  I hit a curve ball with the intent to make it a home run without deciding whether or not it was the perfect swing.  It felt safe, it felt good and it felt right.   I am confident in the fact that no matter what comes my way I can close my eyes and swing.  Fortunately this curve ball was a positive pitch.   It has not only given me such confidence, but also insight into myself as what is possible and what I am able to accomplish if I just believe in the process.   This curve ball is a person for which I write.   People are obviously more complex than baseballs, but the principle remains; Do we avoid the curve ball? Do we take a  swing? Or, do we simply not step up to the plate to take the chance at the home run?  I took the swing!! And, it more than likely one of the best swings I  have ever taken, curve ball or not.  If ignored, if I chose to sit this one out, I would have missed the opportunity to meet someone new.  I would have missed the chance to grow outward and I would have missed the advance of who I am and what I am capable of in this lifetime.  

To be able to open your mind and heart to newness and to be able to accept the everything that another person has to offer, is truly the best experience one can ever have.   There is no "what ifs" or "I should haves".  Simply, its important to step up, take a swing, connecting with the "ball" and hitting that home run.

Hugs,Kisses and Rhubarb

We all know that, among other things,  hugs are for greetings and kisses aren't contracts and rhubarb is sour.  However, during the act of contact, puckering or eating, we aren't conscious of these simple, yet profound facts.  Have you ever been hugged so hard it no longer feels like a gesture of comfort?  Have you ever kissed someone when the two of you have very different intentions?  Have you ever hoped when you bit into a rhubarb stalk that it was going to be the season of the sweet rhubarb?  Bet you have.  


All of these simple acts can take many different forms whether it be feelings or pride or cravings.  But, when does it all sync to make for a perfect connection?  I'm sure there have was a time or two when you had a date and that awkward moment came when it was time to say good-bye.  You know the moment.  Its when you are both headed for that "seal the deal" moment and, what seems like slow motion, arms open and mouths relax.  But, only one of you may have a bigger goal upon contact.  As one mouth is relaxing, the other person's mouth is dropped and slighting, squinting open.  Here comes the open arms towards the entrance into your "my space bubble".  You go for the kiss and he goes for the hug.  Awkward!! What happens, usually is that you end up kissing ear cartilage or a shoulder.  Ever so slighting brushing your wagging tongue across his neck as it lands on a wooly sweater.  In a state of minor shock, you hope he didn't notice your wet tongue slurping in seizure across his cheek and ear and hair line.  You act as if its a new way of showing affection without signing a contract.  You convince yourself it shows your interest without actually giving it all up so early on in your relationship.  Its called manners, of course.  You at this point look at him as though he should know its what everyone is doing now....a sign of the times.  


There are those times when a hug lingers a bit too long.  Its that hug you think is only a hug, a short greeting or good-bye.  But, when it lingers, you suddenly feel trapped.  Nothing more awkward than this feeling.  As you are being bear hugged thinking you are about to be released and knowing that you have been hugging for the better part of your life so you have the timing and synchronicity,the hug doesn't stop but you have already released only to be dangling within his hug as it goes on and on and on.  So, like any well mannered huggie, you go back into position as though nothing ever happened.  Again, you convince yourself that he never felt the release and re-hug.  It is never spoke of much like a family secret.  No one ever says: "hey, did you just release the hug prematurely?"  You know the feeling.  So, the next time you are with that person, your head is in the right place, thank god.  Lesson learned, right?  So, every hug thereafter with that particular person, you are prepared.  A little less sincere, nonetheless, prepared. 


You know rhubarb doesn't have a miracle sweet season.  Its always sour.  Yes, it can be more sour as the season progress', but never sweet than you've ever had before.  What do we do about this awkward sour shock?  We sugar it down.  We add sugar, sugar and more sugar to change the sting of that sour bite.  Yet, no matter how  much sugar we add, we still get that sour characteristic of the rhubarb.  First sweet, relaxed tongue  flavorful tenderness, then BAM!! the pinch of sour hitting the entire tongue.  There is no way to change it, but yet we try.  Which brings me to the point of "sugar coating".  I guess this is where the coined phrase came from, maybe?  I would say more than likely. The same goes for people.  Once mean, always mean...once sour, always sour.  A friend told me recently that who you are today becomes more pronounced with age. Which means, of course, if you're sour and bitter now, when you're 80 yrs old, no sugar is going to soften your blow.  Basically, you just become an 80 year old stalk of rhubarb.  No thanks! 


Without sugar coating this:
Hugs are not forever
Kisses aren't contracts
Rhubarb will never be sweet

I have a Question

Recently I have been bombarded with questions.  Questions regarding my personal life, my business life, my private life and my future life.  Questions that are quirky and questions that are meant to be thought provoking and poignant.  Some questions are just because, some are to be nosie, some are out of the box and some are funny as hell.   So, I thought I would compile a few and broadcast them in this blog for all of you who wondered to ask the same or related questions.  Now, I pride myself in being somewhat private and at the same time an open book once provoked.  In doing either, I have put my foot in my mouth, offended, confused, enlightened and challenged those of you who have asked the question or listened to my banter.  So, here I go:

Questions and Answers: 

1. Why are you so critical of weddings? Meaning, the decor, the bride, the process?  (if this is the starter question to the interview, there is no way but down)
     A:  Because 95% of weddings all look the same, not including the weddings I have decorated or been a part of, clearly.  Bride's often buy bad dresses, copy magazine "looks", hire dated planners, serve horrible food and melt down.  The best weddings I have done are those composed of character, style, uniqueness and void of planners (you know, those who interfere in what is right because they want a commission check from vendors so they would rather book what they know rather than help to create what can be).   Frankly, all brides and their grooms should elope. 

2.  Are you often misread or misunderstood? (I don't understand)
     A:  I often don't care about either. 

3.  What inspires you? (ba-oring question)
     A: Truth.  Whether it be an artist who expresses his or her self without boundaries or the rawness of a confession from an friend or foe.  I love the underdogs in this world.  I am inspired by ambition and drive.  I am inspired by scenes; like the feeling of an McQueen or Dries Van Noten runway show.   Its funny, however, everyday nature doesn't inspire me, maybe because I take it for granted or it becomes ordinary.  Perhaps that's why I love the desert.  It seems dead and endless which equals quietness and calm.  I am inspired by color in waves of flowers and texture, but I seem to always lean towards dark flowers and interiors.  

4.  Why are you single? (if the interviewer has a brother who is a doctor, the answer to this question could become very skewed)
    A: This I am asked, lately, all the time and its so frustrating as if to ask why am I tall or blue eyed.  So, I have finally found an answer to this question and it goes something like this: At this time I do not wish to bring anyone into the life I am living at the moment.  I find peace in being single. 

5.  What motivates you to get out of bed in the morning? ( I always think this is a dumb question)
    A: My body wakes up.  I get out of bed.  I get on with my day. That's life. 

6.  Are you always controlling? A perfectionist? (as I looked up to notice a dangling, dead branch in the tree outside my office window and was momentarily distracted)
    A: Can you sit to my right please?

7.  What makes you laugh? (I wanted to say to the interviewer that her lisp is making me laugh, but..)
    A:  Real life, real people.  I am horrible at jokes, therefore, I never find them funny.  I like when someone's exaggerated expression creates a mockery of another person. Hmm, I guess making fun of other people makes me laugh.  Yep, I'll go with that.   

8.  Do you play well with others?  (what does "play" mean, I wonder, hmmmm)
    A:  If others play well with me I do.  Listen, I like "playing" with people who work hard and work smart.  I like having a common goal or interest.  I hate micromanaging tasks that are common sense/street smarts.  Yes, I expect people to read my mind most of the time. Realistically, that never happens, so I rely on those I am "playing" with to have the obvious common sense or integrity to play fairly without stopping the game.   And, it depends on who I am "playing" with, of course.

9.   Pet peeves? (this question for starters is a pet peeve)
    A:  Many, but mostly, liars.  Oh! And cab drivers when I am not in the cab and semi trucks on residential streets and honkers and loud talking and bad questions....AND ignorance, racism, parades and waiting for a table at a restaurant even though I had a reservation.


10.  What makes you cry?  (I wanted to say "Everything", so I did)
    A:  Everything. I can cry at a drop of a hat.  Again, its real life, and most often its the sweetest things that make me cry the hardest.  Not because they make me sad, rather they make me feel so good inside that it provokes tears or all out bauling.

11. What is your biggest frustration? (tricky, tricky question..where do I begin, hmm)
   A.  Lately, my biggest frustration has been with people who lack integrity, individuality and respect.  Also, people who feel entitled.  I have been dealing with an ex-employee who decided to be just like me and use what I have built as his own platform for "success".  It is incredibly frustrating seeing such lack of confidence in people who could otherwise be unique and awesome if they just tried a little harder.  

12.  Do you trust people too much?  (grrrrrrrrrrr)
   A. Yes, well, I used to be very trusting.  I have come to learn that people are generally good, but watch your back.  For instance, I like to give.  I like to help.  I respect others, differences and all.  But, when that respect is mistreated or misused, I no longer trust.  Lets face it. How much can a person give without receiving before the connection is disconnected?  I trust those who share the same respect I have for them as they have for me.  

13..  What's your next chapter? (as if I have completed all other chapters, this question made me feel old)
   A: I have yet to get through and conquer this chapter.  Who knows!! That's why its so great to be present in what I am and what I am doing now. 

14. Do you ever slow down?
  A. Yes, a couple times each day.  My mind doesn't rest, ever, thank god. 



These questions are the tops as they are asked me over and over and over again by friends, family, clients, editors, interviewers, etc.  Some, if find boring to both ask and to answer.  If I were an interviewer I would ask the hard questions like:  When did you first have sex? and When was the last time you faked a good time in front of a host/hostess?  I want the grit.  I like to know the details and could care less about the outcome.  Much like watching a trial, I like to know all the parts of the crime not just what happens at the end.  I like questions that mean something and get to the root.  I have found that people ask the same questions because its easy.  I question myself often.  It's those questions I ask myself that are always the hardest ones to answer and often, when able to answer them, I change my mind anyway.  However, those questions to myself that challenge me go unanswered or take much longer to answer.  Questions! They are the premise of our lives. 
Got a really good question for me?  Shoot it over and I might answer it.

Sleeping Single in a Double Bed

Very recently I have been asked repeatedly "Why are you Single?".  Why am I single?  Its not an easy question to answer nor should it be.  I pull my shirt to smell my pits for untimely scents.  I check my nose for shipwrecks or old bats.  I even practice not having a "tone" when I compliment someone or react to a compliment given to me by someone else.  Its funny, really.  Is being single a curse or a blessing?  And, why are people constantly in pity of your relationship status.  I'll tell you how I see and feel it.  Sleeping single in a double bed definitely has its perks which many a married couple or simply a dating couple would envy.  There is always the room to stretch and the peace of a snore-less night.  Also, whats better than getting in and out of bed from both sides as often as you want without reference to any excusable exit plan.  More so, getting up in the middle of the night because you have to make cookies because you can, or cuing up the television with you favorite late night news show without having to tap the mute button or hand mix as not to be "too loud" using electric mixers is a liberating and satisfying moment you can call all your own.
Honestly, I don't sit and ponder why I am single or choose to be single.  After all, I have dated off and on since I was 18, some good, some bad, some ugly, some sane.  Its always after my dating status changes from "attached" to "unattached" that I reflect and, frankly, revel in the organic nature of going it alone.  Selfishly, I don't have to include anyone in my daily plans.  I can come and go as I please.  Spend what I want on what I don't need.  Cook without worrying about food aversions or allergies or diets.  If I forget to flush the toilet, oops, I forget to flush the toilet (shit, that reminds me!).  Single is the most unforced natural status that I can think of today.  Dating, is a force of many things society wants of you.  Right? Well, maybe.  To date is to reposition yourself from sleep to wake to routine to relaxing.   Being single only means I am responsible for me, just me, no one but me.
Being single, I believe, helps someone grow more into who they are with a better understanding of who they are and for what they are capable and what your limits are.  I have always said; people shouldn't get married until their late 30's or 40's because they need to become who they ultimately can be without distraction. Being single isn't a bad or sad thing.  No worries friends and family, I'm okay and really am enjoying my time with myself (wink, wink).  With my boundaries set and my heart open, I am a better person to date.
I was recently asked what the perfect guy would be for me, to date or marry.  I have now processed it a bit more since the question came up a few days ago and my answer goes something like this:   My perfect match would have my back and likewise.  My perfect match would be his authentic self; an independent, driven spirit who at the end of the day will find me, notice me and acknowledge me. Honestly, my perfect match would be much like myself.  I figure if I hold those standards high to my own self, then a likewise person would be my long term partner.  I am not looking for a carbon copy, don't get me wrong, that would be creepy.  The best for me is only as deep as the best I can offer back.
So, I will continue, for now, to enjoy my nights of peaceful slumber in my bed with an occasional need to bake a batch of cookies or watch the news at 2am or fly off to somewhere for the weekend or to just sit with myself.

Neat and Interesting

Two words that jolt my swagger; Neat and Interesting.  I know exactly why, but I'll get to that in a minute.  I didn't want to support the truce of uttering "I'm not sure why I dislike these words..blah,blah".  Okay, so, as recent as I can remember, well, Friday, I had a client tell me this looked "Neat":

Her left eyebrow was lifted and her right eye squinted as she smiled blurting the word.  Now, I'll give it to her, she was only looking at a picture and lets face it, a picture doesn't do something tangible justice.  On another occasion recently I was looked at in a squint with lips pursed and told by a man that an installation of mine was "interesting" and thanked me whole heartedly.  Admittedly, I too have used both words to describe things that I really wasn't either interested in or disliked wholeheartedly.  Thus, the reason I don't like these two words to be used as adjectives towards my work or thoughts.  You know the times you are with someone and you are telling them all about this experience you had and they are nodding and smiling as if they are listening intently to your every word. Then, in response to your story they exclaim "wow, that is so interesting!".  Guess what?  They either weren't listening as intently as it appeared they were and/or they just thought the whole thing was a boring mess.  Would it have been better if they would have said "wow, that was so UN-interesting."?  I use the word "neat" when I need to tidy up.  You know,  keep things neat and organized.   But, much like "interesting", "neat" gets used in place of "gosh darn I really find that unappealing and rather appalling!".   Do you see what I mean? And, how many times have you used these words just because there were no other ways to kindly let someone down without them knowing?

In defense of the "neat" and "interesting" users, perhaps they are being, or at least trying to be gracious and complementary.  They may genuinely feel as those the neatest and most interesting things are just a grasp away and everything to them finds place in each category.  Then again maybe not.  A dead giveaway when someone says either word is their tone.  It usually goes down at the end of the word or stays constant with a contrived inflection at the end.  Practice with me: Neat! (inflect upward at the end)  Interesting! (inflect downward at the end).  Good Job!! Now do it in the mirror and let your face do the talking.  No need to practice.  I have begun to think that its our natural way for which we were born to communicate, um, nicely?

So, be mindful the next time you describe something as "neat" or "interesting" unless of course you are genuinely interested, then, try to find another word like "Wowwzza" or "Shazam!!"  

Nadia Comanechi

Tonight, as I attempted to lay me down to sleep, I realized that it wasn't the need of sleep that was attempting to lay me down.  Ironically, it was my lack of sleep that has laid me down,however to not sleep,but rather to  think.  Continuous and jumbled thoughts of flowers dance in my head as I prepare for a presentation amongst Mother's Day orders, weekly orders, parties and personals.  I was asked to prepare a new look, a new beginning for a floral program at a well revered space in Chicago.  After working with them for the past 8 years, the challenge is to reinvent the flowers as they are doing within their own environment.  Usually this isn't a big deal to me, meaning, I always feel in my gut I have it licked.  I can come up with a million ideas and whittle each of them down to a grand solution, a finale.  This time, I'm stuck.  I'm stuck within myself and my lack of ideas.  When do you start reinventing and when is it all okay just the way it is?  I guess, perhaps, I may be stuck within myself.  What I mean is, I may be afraid to let the big idea rip its way out of my gut and let it just happen.  I get that, but I can't find that "big idea"...it must be embedded very deep.  I've searched for it. I dashed to NYC for inspiration knowing that trip has never failed me before and yet, this time, it didn't produce the same effect I have come to trust from that entangled city.  Work is very important to  me because its what I love to do.  I love working with flowers as my medium.  I love seeing reaction and feeling accomplished in my designs and client relationships.  At the same time, I combat the stress of keeping this fresh, no pun intended.  I struggle with maintaining the quality and experience people have to come to love and respect about my work.  I agree to evolve is natural, but I fight the evolution of a constant changing society of perceptions and worth. 

Being creative is a challenge and a curse, a joy and a gift and a realization that it will never become complacent because of the "what ifs" and the "what else's".   Tonight I struggle with my creativeness and forward thinking.  What am I missing?  What else is there that hasn't been done before?  Where can I get what I need before I need it?  Its funny as I lay here typing recalling all the times I have told clients, staff, etc to calm down, "its only flowers".  Clearly, I am not living that at the moment.  The passion to create something magical and timeless is so much harder than creating something obnoxious, explosive and/or ordinary.  I have always relied on my gut, as I have said before, and I have become great friends with procrastination and last minute brilliance.  This time, I am lost. Maybe it is because I have been moving too fast as of late.  The more I can get done, the more I can do and the more I can add on to an already fast moving schedule.  So many people have told me to slow down, so I try.  But, as I slow down, my world around me seems to speed up and I surely don't want to be left behind to catch up later.  This past week I have slipped on loose leafs, tulip heads and rose petals as they lay in wait on the floor of my studio.  They were stalking me waiting for the perfect time to find themselves under my shoe and catapult me across the room.  I have good balance and am very used to the scraps on the floor.  But, on Thursday,  it happened.  A stray tulip leaf lay resting on the floor right outside my office.  It must have hobo'd a ride on my boot or sleeve. As I left the office in yet another hurry, my boot met the tulip leaf with direct contact.  It was a BIG slip.  However, I must admit, I felt much like Nadia Comanechi on the high beam.  With elegance and grace, I did the Chinese splits that would absolutely garner a perfect 10.    Painful, yes.  Embarrassing, not really (I was the only one at the studio at the time).  Humbled, of course. 
Its moments like that when I hear my dad telling me that  "moments like that mean you need to take a moment and slow down".  Something divine is telling you you are moving too fast, take a moment and smell the roses...blah, blah.  Anyway, I am challenged tonight and hope for a moment of sleep.  I will rely on my gut.  I will rely on my knowledge, my know-how and my will.  I, at the moment I am typing this, will acknowledge my vulnerability to surrender and persevere.  At the end of the day, it may be just flowers, but its also my passion and guts for which I will not lay down.  

Its a Pooh Thing

Recently I was reading my facebook stream and a good friend of mine posted a quote from Winnie the Pooh to another friend.  This quote was and is my all time favorite quote and I had over the years forgot about it, well, put it this way, its been stored in my mind bank collecting dust for too many years.

Christopher Robbins to Pooh: "there is something you must always remember...you are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem and smarter than you think"..."


Day by day, our lives change, no doubt.  Sometimes they are dramatic times, sometimes they are good times and sometimes they are times which pass us by without us even realizing what just happened.  Do we take the best of times for granted and dwell too much on the hard times?  Perhaps.  I often think as to why those hard times take so much of our energy to process and disclaim.  Its the good times we look forward to and what make us happiest, yet we tend to let them fizzle out of our core too quickly.  


So, after being reminded of the words of Christopher Robbins last night, the first thing that came to my mind, frankly, was being a child and dandelions.  I had friends when was I was just a kid, many of them.  We were all about the same age and lived only steps away from each other.  We had the best block in town!  Everyday after school we gathered around a light post in the corner of Vincent's yard and gathered our teams together for a game of flashlight tag or hide and seek.  We played until our parents stood at the end of the driveways and yelled for us to come in for dinner.  After dinner, we were right back at that light post to resume where we left off.  


On the weekends, it seemed, there were less of us around to congregate into enough teams to get any sort of game going, so I would venture off on my own into the woods, fields and swamps.  I had great adventures trekking through thick brush and tracking Bigfoot.  I would build forts to hide out in knowing I would be camouflaged from the world outside of the forest.  It was so much fun jumping from odd humps in the swamp as to avoid falling into the murky, smelly water.  I would rescue rabbits from snares, albeit they were already dead, but nonetheless, they were "rescued".  Picking cattails and yellow swamp flowers became a gathering expedition and tearing off Springs giant pussy willow branches from the enormous trees for which they grew all in order to bring them home for my mom.  If I recall correctly, she would make me leave them outside - bugs and all.  Frogs would lay huge puddles of eggs wrapped in clear, jello-like casings.  These would be the great find and after gathering them in ice cream buckets I would take them to the garage and watch them hatch into tadpoles.  Now that I think about it, I'm not sure where they disappeared to after they were tadpoles.  I guess its one of those things that parents take care of for you without making much fuss.  Put it this way; I was carefree, without worry and always dirty.  


 Like I said, dandelions were part of my childhood and I am sure I share this with each and everyone of you reading this.  Taking over all the lawns on the block, dandelions were this dreaded weed that every homeowner acknowledged in horror when they began to bloom.  However, as kids, we would relish them as a pretty flower for which we could use to play games.  One such game was called "Mommy had a baby and  her head popped off!".  We would take the dandelion in the palm of one hand with the bloom nestled on the fatty part of our hand between the thumb and index finger.  Then, using our thumb, we would recite "Mommy had a baby and her head popped off" and when we got to "off" we would pop the bloom from its stem...and laugh and laugh.  Another game, if you will, would be taking a dandelion and holding it under a friends chin.  Asking each other if "you like butter".  If the dandelion reflected yellow on your chin's bottom, then YES!! you liked butter.  Um, yeah, it always reflected yellow.  Simple times.  When the dandelion flowers turned into a fragile puff of white seeds, it was time to use them for something much more meaningful.  You know what I'm talking about don't you?  We would use the flowers in there last state of bloom to make wishes.  Crazy wishes like; "I want a horse" and "I want a pair of Lee jeans" and "I wish for 5 bucks so I can buy 20 packs of Charlie's Angels trading cards".  Wishes, simple wishes. 

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So, going back to the words of Christopher Robbins to Pooh;  As a child I was very brave, brave enough to hang out in the woods wishing to catch a glimpse of the unseen Saskquatch, braver than I believed.  Also, I was much stronger as I seemed when I climbed those grand trees to pluck the best lilac and pussy willow I could find.  Even more so,  I was much smarter than I thought, as I would have the best hiding places during hide and seek (most often lying flat on rooftops, where bravery and strength both came in handy).  As a child I made wishes for only what I knew as a child.  As an adult, with spring upon us, its hard to walk past a dandelion without reaching down and blowing it with a wish in mind.  Our adult wishes are a bit  more complex, but they are still wishes, beliefs, strengths and smarts.  


In case you were wondering:   I never did see a Bigfoot, but I believed it to be real.  

Love It..Hate it..Can('t) live without it

There are things I notice, things I love, things I hate and things I can't live without.  I thought, pondered and even stewed about letting in a bit of mixed culture into my home and life, you know, to stir things up a bit and create new vignettes and moments into my everyday life.  I have thought hard and deep and realize that those things that I like, even love, have no place in my home or work life.  For instance, I love when great photos are perfectly framed and hung cluttered on walls.  I especially love when photos are clustered on walls from floor to ceiling.  However, I just don't like it in my home, at all.  Perhaps its the clutter?  Perhaps its the daunting task of the actual act of hanging them all.  But, in thinking hard and deep and even laying out a perfect plan to hang the collected works of photography and art, I happen to realize that I just don't like pictures.  I have one photo picture of an old French, 1930's mannequin set upon my mantle at a resting tilt.  That is my extreme of photos.  No friends and family pictures clutter my tables or walls either. I find them to be freaky and weird as they stare at me in the same gaze day after day, so they all have been edited to a box in the closet.  Thus, I love a good wall of pictures hung in perfect harmony in someones home, work or hotel, but I will never allow such wall covering in my home.

Green Walls!!! I LOVE them! When the color green is the perfect blend of depth and vibrancy, magic happens and life begins. Again, not in my home please.  I have admired walls like these since, well, I think I was a teenager.  I love the guts it takes to take a white wall to big levels. This boldness acts as the walls make-up.  Its like that daring green eyeshadow I have seen only a select few women wear..and it works for them.  I prefer a muted color palette in my home and I go as bold and deep as warm charcoal Grey.  I have often collected deep, bright paint swatches and hung them in all rooms in my home thinking I would jump off the pantone bridge.  I always come back to and realize my daily waking, occasional lounging and peaceful slumber requires paint colors of timelessness and understated composer. 

My all time favorite, as a guest in a home or hotel, is white furniture. Clean, bright, aloft...white furniture is, to me, an all time F you to commitment.   I get it, yes, some love to live a life of bright white and void of color, much like those who choose black as their safety zone.  I, on the other hand, prefer, again, muted colors or textures like Belgian linen and colors like coffee, grey, taupe and dove.   I was once told that the color white is the beginning of making decisions, a non-commitment, the start of moving forward or changing.   Could it be that the homes of white and  hotels of the same decor are places of rejuvenation and self-discovery?  Not sure about that, but I do know its not right for my home and I will admire it from afar.  Side note: I love white sheets if that matters.

Finally, flowers.  Okay, about a decade ago the trend to tilt flowers en mass from the tops of vases became all the rage and still, to this day, I have noticed that many of my colleagues still choose this design to create "edgy" and "big statement" event decor.  HAAAAAAAA!!! I laugh at them all.  A couple things before I digress into dogging the competition: First, I love the was this flower design looks at the George V in Paris.  Its truly amazing and a must see on anyone's visit to the City of Lights.  Why it looks good there?  Because of the generous budget. Also, I like Jeff, the designer behind the global trend.  Here, hotels/floral designers, copy the "look" halfheartedly.   How boring to walk into a hotel and see the same flowers as the competing hotel around the corner...ahh, yawn. They clearly don't have the budgets to perform a ballet of en mass "tippy" flowers, thus losing the impact and "wow".   Same goes for weddings and events, if you're going to do it at all, do it right or leave it in the pages of a book.  I don't even attempt this design for the main reason of not copying someone's signature design.   I choose to create a style of flowers that are more beautiful and just as interesting.  So, again, although I admire the work of Jeff Leatham, I won't tip my flowers. 

I sometimes wish I could paint a room grass green and load the walls with pictures and paintings and fill it with blank faced furniture and red roses bundled and tipped to one side out of a vase on the coffee table, but as I look around my environments, I take pride in my solace and simplicity.  In fact, because I have a muted private world for which I live and work, I am more creative, more ambitious and more focused.  Those are the integrated "who I am's" that I can't live without. 

Wait a Moment

Lately I have been asked what defines my style and outlook when creating either interiors or floral sculpture/designs.  I respond slowly, trying to find the quickest,easiest translation without trying to sound pompous or overly descriptive.   Its a task of organizing, in my head, the correct response without spewing out contradictory points of creative, pointed arrival.  I have finally found my response: My thoughts and designs are composed in "Moments".

Now, let me take a moment to explain the moment of conception and throughput.   My second job was when I was 15 and I had crossed the street to work at McDonald's (my first being at Hardee's where I was fired for "not being cut out as a burger flipper").   While at McDonald's,one of my jobs, if you will, was working the drive-thru.  We were told that when we told a customer "please hold a moment", that meant we had exactly 1.5 minutes or less to return to that customer for service.  The Old English "moment" was 1/40th of a minute and today's modern "moment" is any express time limit - I call it quickedness.  I never loved the process of interior design because it took too long to come to fruition and then, at that point of arrival, something would fail and minds would change.  Therefore; I found complete satisfaction in the moments created when I design with flowers.  The flowers are bought fresh in the morning, designed soon after and sent out for exhibit immediately after completion.  I don't believe in or have coolers for this exact reason.  Nothing prolonged, nothing over thought, nothing left for debate; just a guttural response to my medium.   

I have never been one to like the confusion of walls, corners, floors and ceilings being cluttered with "stuff" to fill in the blanks.  I design for creating moments.  In a home, for example, we take for granted our space and walk by many of our possessions because we forget to stop and admire their beauty or story.  Empty walls with a single great piece for furniture that hold a simple vase of a single Japanese maple branch lit like a work of art: is a moment....to stop what you are doing, look at it and continue with your day.  More compulsive would be a stone dish holding a topple of goats milk soap set next to your tub waiting for its dip into a hot bath of inviting water.  Yes, I have that stone dish at the ready for my next bath.  And, admittedly, it is compulsive and obsessive, but it makes me happy while I scroll it over my limbs into cleanliness.    

Its a simple way of living when life is racing around you.  My dad always said that when I trip or stub my toe or fall down when rushing, its life's way of telling me to slow down for just a moment and "smell the roses".  As life gets faster and people walk quicker and cars race frantically and media bombards us with chatter, why not take those moments, less than a minute, of each of our days to stop and look at what makes our living so great.  I have always said: I don't care if people love or hate my flower designs.  What is important to me it that they stopped and looked at it.   I have created moments in my home that make me happy when I glance at them.  I love the way a floor lamp in my dining room stands proud at the tables end and the way the ghost chairs surrounding  my table float as if they aren't really there.   The charcoal walls and the grain of the table play off each other like a leaf to a tree.  And I love the odd, teardrop shape of the matte white vase that holds a single giant leaf.  Nothing cluttered, nothing overly thought, just plain simplicity which slows down my always tumbling thoughts, for just a moment.

                                                     photo courtesy of: Dries Van Noten

My favorite designer of his fashion shows is Dries Van Noten - simple moments with lasting impressions.  That is life!! That is living!! Sounds simple. Because it is simple.  I urge you to take a moment of each of your days and enjoy it.  Find those things you forgot to look at yesterday and within less than a minute of your time, you may just change the outlook of  your entire day.

Midnight Snack. Snack?

Its one in the morning and I am awakened by the grumbling in my stomach and the screaming of my taste buds.  I am definitely having a snack craving.  We've all been there.  Its an occasional yearning for me and it never seems to happen when I go to bed hungry, rather, it happens when I have eaten my fair share of food for the day.  Last night I woke up at 11pm.  I had only been sleeping an hour or so when the urge to stumble squinty eyed into the kitchen and ravage the fridge and pantry for a remedy to cure my food craving. Earlier in the evening I had a great salad and a filling protein drink. I had made Snickerdoodle cookies, only 3 so I wouldn't gorge myself and I froze the remaining dough for later indulgences.  However, my cravings were stronger than the cookie which stared up at me, lonely and single on the plate for which it rested.  I needed something  more, something, well, satisfying.  I kept opening the fridge thinking something would appear magically, you know what I'm talking about.  I only clicked the overhead light of the stove for my late night scurrying.   My contacts were taking there time getting adjusted to my sudden leap out of bed.  I have a few favorites for these moments.  A few food finds that I try to keep stocked in case such an emergency should arise.  The first is ice cream, preferably coffee ice cream.  After opening the freezer door no less than 3 times, it became reality that I had not stocked that option.  I needed more anyway.  I needed salt!

I had some 2 day old Brioche left over from a way too greedy shopping spree at the bakery.  I knew I had cheese but wasn't sure of its pasture.  Digging through the fridge in search of a perfect cheese combo to complete my ingredients for a grilled cheese sandwich, eyes squinted, I only came up with bleu and swiss cheese.  Nope, neither were appetizing this late.  The time clicked by during my search and 11:30pm was now upon me.  A midnight snack was closely reporting for duty.   My craving for a grilled cheese had consumed my mind and for a mere moment, I almost got dressed and ran to the grocery store for the right cheese.   I love my grilled cheese with Gruyere and/or white cheddar and mustard.  I couldn't justify a lazy approach to curb my pangs by using Swiss cheese.  I shut the fridge door, then opened it quickly just to see if perhaps I missed anything.  Nope.  The wilted fennel was still there...alongside eggs...hmmmm, eggs. 

Eureka!!! I love scrambled eggs as a midnight snack.  (Sidenote:  The best eggs on the market are Phil's, unbelievable flavor and the brightest orange/yellow yolk ever.  No, I am not being paid by Phil's to say that, yet).  I pulled the eggs, one at a time, out of their snuggled up, cold container being careful not to drop one.  My cravings were to too strong for a splattered egg on the floor.  I grabbed the milk, some herbs; parsley, thyme and tarragon and the remaining "dash" of grated Romano cheese all out of the fridge and I was set!!.  Ahhh, herbed scrambled eggs, perfect.  I heated my non-stick fry pan, dabbed in a little butter and began to assemble my eggs and herbs.  My eyes had lifted by now.  I scrambled the 3 eggs in a bowl, added salt,pepper and the chopped herbs and a dash of milk.  Ready, set, go!!! Into the  hot pan, the smell immediately filling my nose, mind and stomach.   I prefer my scrambled eggs a bit on the runny side, not soupy, just creamy.  I stirred them as if they were going to be my last meal, ever so careful to create the large sized scrambles I love so much.  Ahhh, the smell.  12am on the dot, I plated my eggs.  Leaning against the kitchen counter I ate with restrain savoring every mouthful.  I was satisfied.  Midnight craving subdued, I headed back to bed.  I tossed and turned until I finally gave in, again, and got up.  I made my coffee, checked my mail, watched the news and sat frustrated that I couldn't get that sleepy feeling back.  At 5am, I thought to myself; "I wonder how many more eggs and herbs are available in my refrigerated section of my kitchen?" And, without much thought, I marched right back and made myself another healthy portion.  So started my day.   

Hush and Slush

Many great things come from the quiet squall of winter.  There is snuggling to a cozy fire, house cleaning and warm cashmere sweaters.  There is also pot roasts and pot pies, homemade hot chocolate and in-home dining.  Also, covering most of the land, is snow.  Its truly amazing how the city can go from green in the spring and summer, to shades of auburn and copper in the fall and then head first into a white wonderland come winter.  Snow, for some, is inconvenient and depressing.  Snow for others means skiing, snowmen and ice skating.  Waking up very early in the morning as I do everyday of the week, I often get the opportunity to sit in the hush of a sky dusting the city with snow.  White and pure as it falls from nowhere, up there; it seems to quiet things down.  As the snow falls, I seldom hear birds chirping, cars screeching or people yelling.  The trees even seem to stand still and accept their icing.   When it snows, its always just cold enough to keep the snow from melting before the ground stops it, but not so cold you aren't able to go outside for a walk and catch a few snowflakes on your tongue or cheek.   My favorite site as the snow walls atop previous resident snow, is the look of things untouched and unblemished.  Foot tracks are covered and all the cars look alike blanketed in the white, heavenly powder.   I have a large window in my kitchen that looks east towards another building.  In between me and the neighboring abodes there is a large space where the snow is able to fall and blur out my view of that building.  As I bake or cook and while its snowing, my tendency to slow down and revel in hand squeezing lemons or mixing pasta batter with my hands is heightened.  Being the favorite room in my house, the kitchen during a snow shower is the hub of all my senses.  The stove is warm, the food is hearty and full bodied and the fruit that perfumes the batters seems much more vibrant.

Now, understandably, the snow melts.  Salt is poured on it from loud oversized trucks and the sun tans it to a slush.  Its this turning point that the beauty of the fresh snow becomes gloom  of brown, impassable, wet globs of distraction.  Cars begin to pass you by throwing muck from its tires onto your pants and coats.  People are hopping in an obstacle course of puddles as they try to avoid making the wrong sinking step into an existing, camouflaged puddle.  The slosh of the city gets louder and louder and the quiet of what began the day becomes the chaos that keeps the city alive.  

Hush or slush; winter seems like a renewal to me.  Its a few months of starting over in a sense.  When everything is living and blooming and hurried during the first 3/4's of the year, the land and we the people are in need of a rest come winter.   I view it as a kind of retreat.  All things become dormant.  The land, trees and animals rest.  People hide and re-nourish.  And, in time, it begins again.  I look forward to Spring this year, but I am not ready to hurry up winter.  I still have a few more roasts to cook and chili's to make.  I also have cupboards to be cleaned and walls to paint.  These are just a few of the things that I need to accomplish so I can enjoy the Spring, the Summer and the Fall without chores and bores.   So, in good  humor, I write to the snow: "Good day snow!! Thank you for the hush. Please don't stay too long into the Spring.  And, be kind to me as I walk sidewalks and drive roads.   I appreciate your momentary presence and look forward to your return long, long, long after Fall has ended". 

Bikram and Beyond

Yesterday started the first day of my 30 consecutive days practicing Bikram Yoga!! Its an exciting endeavor and I look forward to every drop of sweat, every nauseating ache and every mind clearing revelation.  I have been practicing now for over a year and besides an occasional back to back class, I have never taken on this sort of responsibility.   Yes, a responsibility.  I owe it to my body, my mind and my spirit to take better care of all three.  After  not being in the studio for the past 3 months, this first night back was quite a comeback on  all fronts.  First, my body has changed since the holidays of 2010 began.  Being up front at the mirror confirmed how much I love Christmas cookies and stews.  Second, my ability to really stretch has tightened up a bit, well, a lot.  But, I retrieved the memories of when I could do a standing head to knee with my leg straight out in front of me and it gave me hope for the upcoming classes.  Third, and most importantly, I revealed my ability to forgive myself.

Okay, I know this is going to sound as if I may begin preaching about self consciousness, but bear with me.  As I was lying in Savasana (dead man's pose), breathing in and clearing my head, I came to realize an important lesson.  Let me premise this by telling you that I had recently ended a relationship that had a very strong impact on me and I had been going through a process of guilt, sadness, anger and self healing.  So, as I lay breathing and clearing my mind, a song kept running through my mind like a roaring stream after a hard rain.  I couldn't shake it no matter how hard I tried to concentrate on letting it go.  It, in fact, grew louder and each word became more and more pronounced.  It goes like this:

" I've heard it said
That people come into our lives for a reason,
 bringing something we must learn 
And we are led
To those who help us most to grow
If we let them
And we help them in return
Well, I don't know if I believe that's true
But I know I'm who I am today
Because I knew you"


It goes onto say:

"And now whatever way our stories end
I know you have re-written mine
By being my friend.........
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you 
I have been changed for good"


I know, it's a great lyric isn't it, just not so great when you want to clear your mind instead of think, think and think.  I skipped the next two poses as I felt crippled by my thoughts and song.  Funny how it made such clear sense, however.  As my breathing slowed and my mind's song began to fade and as each drip of sweat, mixed with tears, continued to scrap across my temples and cheeks, I remembered the reason why I find solice in practicing Bikram Yoga.  There are days I forget to breathe as well as fleeting moments I forget to capture.  There are voices purging and I forget to sometimes listen. There are clues I overlook and shoulders I refuse to lie my head upon.  Solice is, for me, Bikram.  90 minutes of just me.  The 105 degrees that I find lovely and cleansing.  Bending, twisting and breathing until things start to make sense.  My body throwing out unneeded feelings and confusing thoughts.  My toxins which pour out of every pore begin a renewal of my spirit. I remember who I am during this time.  I recall what makes me  happy and peaceful and it makes me more aware of the things I am forgetting to pay attention too.

Well, I look forward to my next 29 days and beyond with Bikram.  I encourage everyone to try it at least once.  If nothing else, come into the room and lie down, sweat and think.  You will be surprised, when you let yourself  believe in yourself, the things you can do.

By the way, Happy New Year!!

Mike