I am once again starting out on another blogging expedition. Yes, that's right, again. Don't be gettin' all judgy on me or I'll have to come over there and wring some virtual neck. Anyway, it's not that I grew tired of my last blog, it's just that when I signed up at Vox their enticing layouts swayed me so that I completely ignored the fact that no one can comment on said blog unless they are also a member of Vox (which would have put me off from the get-go, but we all know how difficult it is to resist a good layout). Now, I'm not deluding myself into thinking I have legions of followers who hang on my every word and would love to tell me how much they adore me, save for this one small catch (though that would be nice), but I do like to think that perhaps someone might write a note from time to time if not for the prohibitive step of signing up for one more thing in the already overcrowded realm of Things For Which One Can Sign Up on this great internet of ours. And Martha Stewart (YAY) is doing a show all about blogging with an audience full of bloggers and guess who got tickets!!?? Oui, that would be moi! I've been meaning to overhaul my blog for ages now, and this certainly seemed as good a time as any to do so.
I considered keeping my old title, "Apple Pie and Arsenic," when making the switch from Vox to Blogger and in fact am still not sure I'm ready to let that go entirely, but for now—after considering "Yume and Tivoli," "You, Me and Tivoli," and "Tivoli Traumen"--I've settled on Yume et Tivoli, a name which may become a brand if I ever get around to making anything to sell. See, I'm already plugging my brand and I don't even know what I'm marketing—which would be genius except for the fact that right now about all I've got to offer is a pile of dirty clothes, a bunch of unopened cable bills and a half-eaten piece of chocolate mousse cake. Not too promising . . . but maybe if I say it's an "ironic" half-eaten piece of chocolate mousse cake, someone in Williamsburg will buy it.
Anyway, I digress. So what's with all the Tivoli? Well, I wanted to choose a name that would reflect my perspective and interests without being too limiting because, let's face it, I don't think I'll ever write a blog that's entirely dedicated to one topic . . . and it just wouldn't be appropriate to write a post about my *new favorite Belgian singer-songwriter on a blog entitled "Hooked on Rug Hooking" or "Pies, Pies and Even More Friggin' Pies!!" N'est-ce pas?
And so we have "Yume et Tivoli"—a name that, for me, represents inspiration and possibility at a time when I'm very excited to be exploring new creative pursuits and reconnecting with long-held interests. I am particularly looking forward to starting three new classes in the coming weeks: a techniques & materials of painting class and a figure drawing workshop at the School of Visual Arts and a scene study class at Stella Adler. The acting class will most certainly enrich my pursuit of voice over (it better enrich it, dammit, I need to be making some money), and I'm hoping that building a foundation of technical drawing and painting skills will allow me to refine and explore my style as a designer and illustrator in new ways. Plus I'm sure with all of the art projects sure to crop up in the coming weeks, I'll have plenty to post right here on this shiny new blog! I'll pause for a moment whilst you jump for joy . . .
Ready? Okay, good.
So why exactly did I choose "Yume et Tivoli" to represent this new chapter of my life? Well, Tivoli, as you may have guessed (you smart thing, you) comes from Tivoli Gardens in Copenhagen. Yes, one could call the attraction—which, having opened in 1843, is the oldest existing amusement park in the world—"touristy," but there's also something deliciously otherworldly and old-fashioned and perhaps just a little bit off about it . . . like a carnival designed by Baz Luhrmann, with its fairy lights and colored glass lamps dotting the water and endless dreamy little details amidst the chaos that add up to its own brand of strange and wonderful magic, at once ancient and impossibly modern. Scandinavia itself seems to be a fantastic juxtaposition of old and new—of cobblestone streets and the stark lines of modern design—and though I've only spent a few days in Denmark and Sweden thus far, it was enough to capture my imagination forever. I feel like I connect with the artistic language that exists there; the dark and the light, the bold and the delicate side by side. It was my trip to Denmark and Sweden last summer that gave me a renewed passion for pursuing the visual arts, and it is a rare day that passes that I don't dream of returning to the region to continue exploring the thatched roofs and wildflowers of the countryside and the mysterious intrigues of the city. Plus, Danish men are just ridiculously attractive.
Speaking of dreams, we arrive at Yume—the Japanese word for the aforementioned (dreams, that is). For some reason I've always thought that if I could choose to be from anywhere else in the world, I would want to be Japanese. I'm not sure exactly why—maybe it's because Tokyo seems like one of the only places on earth that's big and bright and busy enough to dazzle even a jaded New Yorker, or because the idea of a culture in which impossibly adorable characters decorate even the most grown-up of products is enticing to someone who stills swoons over sanrio at age 27, or because I just like the idea of experiencing a culture entirely different from my own—but whatever it is, I've aspired to travel to Japan ever since I can remember, and I will always have an affinity for anime, bento boxes and m-flo. And dreams? Well, I've got a lot of those these days (only a small percentage of which involve terrifying flying clowns hurling pore-clogging cream pies; the rest of them are very lovely and inspiring dreams about puppies and flowers and making something of myself so I can show all those pea-brains I went to school with how pea-brained they really are).
And last but not last, there's "et." Small, mais très important. Simply put, if you know me at all, you know that in my mind I reside in Paris approximately 95% of the time. That's why I keep slipping little bits of French into my writing. It's not because I'm one of those annoying people who speaks in other languages for no other reason than to show off how nauseatingly interesting they are—it's because I keep forgetting I'm not actually in France. So there.
Oh, and I also imagine Yume and Tivoli to be two friendly little characters in ink and watercolor, perhaps the new face of the note card/pillow, pouch & other small sewn item/art print line I keep meaning to start (somehow I don't think that ironic cake idea is going to pan out—I'd just eat it on my way over the bridge). Once they're actually designed (no really, it's going to happen), I'll be sure to post them here!
I'm also planning to transfer much of the content from my old blog at some point soon, along with adding in some new and hopefully exciting things along the way (especially once my art classes start). So you better comment on this damn thing after I've gone through all the trouble of moving everything and writing a fifty page dissertation on my brilliant new name just so you'd have the opportunity to tell me how much you love my stupid blog. See how much I do for you?
Anyway, there you have it: Yume et Tivoli, in a nutshell. Well, a rather large nutshell. Who knew all that could be in a name?
Soooo . . . Come back soon to see what I'm up to! Or else.
*I really do have a new favorite Belgian singer-songwriter. His name is Milow. You can hear him performing a fantastic acoustic cover of 50 Cent's Ayo Technology here (wait for the chorus—it's the best part)! Stick around for his other tunes and find out why he's one of the most popular things happening in Belgium right now.
