Daily Inspiration - January 30th

Photo by McKenzie

Nothing is lost when it comes to love. We get stuck in this perpetual cycle of passed looks, of that yearning for conversation, for words, for smiles, for anything. We become diary-writers and backyard poets, guitar-strummers and jitterbugs, all for the sake of four little letters - letters that we spell out in black ink and huge, looping letters, L-O-V-E. We want it written all over our bodies like tribal tattoos and battle scars. We become Yakuza gangsters, painting our history on our backs for all to see, for us to experience. My grandparents told me that they met while my grandmother was working as a waitress at a burger joint, that my grandfather ordered root beer after root beer and kept emptying every one that my grandma would bring him out the window of his convertible when she left just so that, when she brought him another, he could see her again. Love is funny like that. True love means being bashful and strange and completely unpredictable - it means ordering those thirty root beers just to see that one beautiful soul that you've wrapped your wings around, even if you have to empty every last one of them out the window.

Love, spectacular love, high-flying cotton candy silky-milky circus love, means setting all conventions on fire and throwing caution to the wind. Love makes us brave, it makes us unbelievable, and so we become those poets and musicians and artists and revolutionaries, all for the sake of four little letters. But in the end, when we find ourselves held tight in the arms of that one spectacular person, the root beers seem insignificant. The words, those letters, those are the only things that matter, and it's a beautiful thing to be able to say them with true conviction.

I love you, we say. Root beer and all.

Always,
Penelope ♥

Audrey Hepburn On How To Be Lovely

+ For attractive lips, speak words of kindness.

+ For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people.

+ For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry.

+ For beautiful hair, let a child run his or her fingers through it once a day.

+ For poise, walk with the knowledge you'll never walk alone.

+ People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed and redeemed; Never throw out anybody.

+ Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, you'll find one at the end of your arm.

+ As you grow older you will discover that you have two hands; one for helping yourself, the other for helping others.

+ The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair. The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart, the place where love resides.

+ The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mole, but true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul. It is the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she knows.

+ And the beauty of a woman, with passing years only grows!

I've been informed that although this incredible list of "beauty tips" was echoed bravely by Miss Hepburn, the true credit goes to Sam Levenson who authored it. Nevertheless, I think we can all still safely say that Audrey Hepburn lived her life as the epitome of these words, giving back to this sometimes crazy, mixed up world, always putting others before herself, and meanwhile somehow managing to be the most lovely woman in show business. She was not just a starlet with a beautiful face - she was a humanitarian, an optimist, one of those incredible people who carved their own rugged path in life just to be sure that others could safely follow. At times it can be hard to say this of people you've never met and I usually don't say it very often, but Audrey Hepburn was truly beautiful and we will never find anyone like her on this little Earth ever again.

Stay beautiful, angels~

Always,
Penelope ♥

Daily Inspiration - September 6th

Photo by Kate Andrews

It seems that every night recently I find myself having these cherry champagne dreams - these dizzy illusions that leave me nostalgic in the morning, dying for more. I dream of holding hands and chattering to strangers and performing hoodoo rituals in the grass, trying with all my might to float up towards the ceiling and out into somewhere new. I dreamt that I was standing on the trellis, knees shaking in the breeze, and as I looked out to where the concrete and rust of the city used to be, instead I found this great expanse of green - tiny hills and bubbling fountains that covered my backyard and beyond. And the wind swept me away from my unstable perch, whispering in my ear, "Come away, sweet Penelope. Is this really anything new? Believe it or not, this has been here all along - but maybe you were just too blind to see? The world will always be beautiful in one way or another and the people you meet will always have a story to tell. So look past your glorious backyard and look towards the horizon - find that sleepy everyday magic."

And so I fell. And I fell forever and so quickly at the same time, daydreaming whole novellas in the half a second it took me to fall, yet for one reason or another I never hit the ground. I landed in the arms of all those I had ever loved, of those who had slipped gently into my life and seemed to fit so perfectly. Looking around, I realized that there was always someone there to catch me, one of those glorious souls with a story to tell, those beautiful folk who have made an impact in my life, and it occurred to me that in this crazy world none of us really ever hit the ground. We can fall, spinning through space like mad cosmic frisbees, but in the end there will always be someone to complete our grand finale. And we will spin wildly right into their arms.

That great everyday magic is discovering those who are strong enough to catch you. Those who care enough to reach out their arms and cushion your fall. And I think that's what's so wonderful about life - you never know when you'll stumble upon these kinds of marvelous people, or when they'll stumble onto you. And as terrifying as it sounds, the greatest thing that could ever happen to us is to slip up in the wind and float down into that fall. Because you never know who will be waiting for you at the bottom.

Always,

Penelope ♥

Daily Inspiration - August 23rd

Photo by Missy

There's something spectacular - something earth-quaking, china-shattering, spell-binding, something poetic that makes your heart swell as though it's been soaking in the bubbliest of champagne your whole life, something thrilling in all ways imaginable - about your first kiss.

It's a daydream of baby girls in babydoll dresses, swinging on tire swings or from tree branches or observing the ever-spinning world from the seashore that is their bedroom. We can all admit to spending at least part of our sleepy childhood with our head in our hands, thinking about those mysterious boys who will sweep us away with that sizzling effervescent kiss of womanhood. We wonder, blowing the amoxicillin-pink bubbles of summertime dreams, what they will look like - whether they will have ice-rink blue eyes that seem to sweep over us with a bittersweet chill, or a crooked smile that always comforts us, even in our most tart of times. What kind of music will define them? Will they be rocker boys who can strum out chords on our bedroom floor, serenading us with Radiohead and Kurt Cobain love songs? Or will they be jazz types who sneak into their father's study in the dead of night to have gin-spun rendezvous with Billie Holiday and Wynton Marsalis? How will these dream boys, so different yet so the same, find us in this ever-growing world - and more importantly, how will we know when they are here?

We ask ourselves these silly things while trudging through girl-hood, yet when we finally do slip into the open arms of our first lovers it seems so correct, like those first two puzzle-pieces we get to lay down in life, and suddenly questioning those beautiful boys seems simply absurd. These boys - with their strange stories and mystifying eyes - they give us butterfly kisses deep in our bellies, like an aviary suddenly shaken into a fury and the flapping of hundreds of neon wings. Life seems to float around them, and we suddenly find ourselves wrapped up with them, tied up in their electric lives - watching the entire universe circle in slow motion. We're atwitter with small talk and passed smiles, hand-holding and poetic words that still could never quite explain how we feel.

And when it finally does happen, that ruby red cherry on the cake of adolescence,
when we finally do kiss - all we can see are fireworks.

It's an explosion in small scale, a soda pop sip that fizzes through you like a high-speed chase. It's witchy women who slam-dance on the beach and throw themselves at the moon and stare into the bonfire as though searching for answers. It's all-night diners and midnight festivals all lit up in a neon glaze and hand-spun circus spectaculars deep into the night. We feel like thundering tides so glassy that a single touch could shatter the sea - our hearts heavy bongo drums meeting the beat of clattering subway trains. In that single moment, we become electric, anew. We are something more than tiny girls in an infinite world. We have been brought closer, closer to the Earth and the sea, the sky and the wind, closer to another human, to another planet, to ourselves.

The kisses never end, all from different boys who show us different worlds, and all of them bring us closer to something different. They show us the joy and magic in our lives, the tiny spectaculars that we pass over in an average day, and we become more alive because of them. We become more than just girls.

And we cannot explain what has happened to us, what storybook tale these boys have left us with, what piece of worldliness has been instilled all with the help of a single kiss, where that folded map of kisses will lead us - all we know is that we are not the same.

Always,

Penelope ♥

Daily Inspiration - August 11th

Photo by Missy

"I am like a falling star who has finally found her place next to another in a lovely constellation, where we will sparkle in the heavens forever." - Amy Tan

Who caught you, falling stars?

Always,

Penelope ♥

Daily Inspiration - August 6th

Photo by Brichphotos

For one reason or another, most folks on this tiny little planet seem to be mesmerized by fireworks. Maybe it's the sheer pyrotechnics of it all, the power we have to make beautiful explosions. Maybe it's the overwhelming brilliance that comes with that final pop of light. Or maybe yet it's that child-like thrill imprinted into us that comes from the unexplained phenomenon of Night Fires - something that still hasn't dissipated even after our however-many years of living.

But maybe we see something more in fireworks. Something that most others can't recognize. Maybe we love these glorious shows of light because we can relate.

Like these fiery lights, we are strong, explosive, thundering in unspoken magnitude, yet so incredibly mesmerizing. Quietly we shoot to life, shattering into a million tiny pieces of broken glass, and then in an instant we sizzle away into the night, leaving the world wide-eyed and staring. We disappear, the explosion gone, but that hazy trail, our smoky sweet dust powdered across the night sky will forever be there for others to blaze. We are tiny explosions all over the world, popping with every brush of greatness, and collectively we form a gloriously blinding blanket of light and life.

We are stunning, captivating - explosive diamonds broken across the night sky, falling back down to Earth and leaving our mark on the world. Sometimes we may not shimmer like we intended and instead only stun our audience with a quiet pop; other times we may not fire at all. Nevertheless, our potential is there. And when we become kinetic, nothing can stop us.

We are beautiful and strong. Brilliant and graceful. We are the fireworks show of the world, running year-round. And nothing could ever come close to the beauty we leave behind.

Always,

Penelope ♥

Weekly Wishes

Photo by TIO

I wish... an old-fashioned carnival would come to town. The kind where you can hold hands in velvet-lined swans in the Tunnel of Love and ride a huge, glistening ferris wheel all the way up to the heavens. I want to be able to eat cotton candy from tiny red carts, the sides of which are plastered with faded posters advertising the cart's circus days and watch tiny girls ride on the backs of ferocious old tigers while singing out fifties doo-wop songs. If nothing else, I wish that I'd be able to run a traveling carnival like that one day and bring a little magic back into the world.

I wish... I could sing. I've always wanted to be in a band, but my obvious lack of musical talent has held me back indefinitely.

I wish... others could see the world with the same kind of delight and excitement as a child does. Sometimes I think we're the silly ones, with our standard educations and restless schedules, and maybe children are the only ones who have the world right. Maybe everything can be simplified into twos and threes, light and dark, sweet and sour. Maybe all we need someone to take us by the hand and lead us blindly into this whimsical perspective.

I wish... every restaurant served at least one vegetarian thing besides a side salad.

I wish... for world peace and Manolo Blahniks.

What do you wish for?

Always,
Penelope ♥

Penelope Bat's Favorite Things

Photo by Jim Atwood

In this crazy little world, it always seems like it's the little things that change our lives: hearing a really great song on the radio, perfume that smells exactly like your first grade teacher did, tiny shops that look just how you imagine your dream house would. Collectively, these little pieces of happiness are the things that make our day. They're life's little fireworks that can shoot us out of mediocrity and into the land of the spectacular. Sure, they're only material goods, but if certain material goods can send our world spinning out of our daily rut and into a better direction, then doesn't that count for something?

If Oprah can do it, why can't we? Here are the little things that are changing my world right now.

Food:

- 365 Organic Oat Bran Sticks

Upon first glance, these tiny little treats appear to be inedible - possibly even wood shavings - but in all reality they're absolutely delicious snacks that are a great substitute for those over-salted potato chips. I'm a crazy stickler for healthy eating and these are really as good as you can get without sacrificing taste. No description could give them justice - trust me on this one, go out and give them a try!

- Smart Dogs Veggie Protein Links

Despite being a veteran vegetarian, there are a few childhood staples that I find myself missing in times of emotional crisis (or just extreme hunger!). One of which is the americana classic itself: the hot dog. After sampling a wide variety of vegetarian 'dogs, from Morningstar Farms to Yves brand Veggie Dogs, I found that most of them tasted (and smelled) far different from their classic counterparts - you might even say closer to the realms of the inedible. And then came Smart Dogs. These things are amazing - they're a guilt-free version of the good old American hot dog, tasting just like the real thing. They've become one of those staples that you're bound to find in my fridge at any given time.

- The Hot Food Bar at Whole Foods

For those not-to-rare occasions when I don't feel like cooking at home, the Whole Foods hot bar is always there. (At least until 9:30 pm!) Filled with Indian samosas and vegetarian lasagna and Israeli couscous and honey-orange tempeh, the hot bar has pretty much anything that a health-junkie could ever want in a meal in a delightfully quirky atmosphere. (The cafe at my local Whole Foods usually sports impromptu bands that set up and jam out anything from swing music and bluegrass.) In my opinion, it's ten times better than any of the chain restaurants around here at just about the same price.

Beauty:

- MAC Lip Conditioner Stick

If I could, I would buy one of these for every bag that I own so I would never have to go without it. MAC's lip conditioner is like silk for your lips - smooth, fragrance and color free, it leaves your lips feeling conditioned, fuller, and super-kissable. It's a great primer for lipstick or heavy gloss, but I prefer to wear it on its own for a soft, gentle look. If you're looking for the perfect, simple lip-gloss, try this wonderful alternative instead!

- Auric Blends Perfume Roll-On in One Love

I first found this fantastic little treasure at a new age store, hidden between teacup-sized bowls of incense and rose quartz. After sniffing through all their various scents, one in particular grabbed me instantly. One Love smells like cotton candy and sunsets - like drinking cherry soda and bright-pink-fruity-drinks at the very top of a ferris wheel, fireworks popping then sizzling out like burning champagne in the distance. It smells like princesses and carousels with the biggest, grandest horses you've ever seen and it smells like taking a cherry-pink bubble bath in the arms of your lover. It smells like tropical trees that sway wistfully, giving gifts of pineapple and mangoes and kiwi and melon to those who picnic underneath them. It smells like love.

Books:

- Kiki Strike: Inside the Shadow City

I first found Kiki Strike no more than a week ago, hidden behind westerns and romances at a used book store. The back reads that Kiki is a "black-clad, vespa-riding, cafe-au-lait-drinking girl", and with those simple words I was hooked! She's a New York superspy whose goal in life is be dangerous, a pre-teen who can pull off both a Russian fur hat and a Girl Scout beret. As influential and kick-ass as she is, though, she's generally unheard of amongst the pre-teen scene - her main market. I'm awed at how this is even possible, but nevertheless I still love the Kiki Strike series and would recommend it to those loving adventure in a heart-beat! Kiki Strike is a killer read!

- The Every Boy

Quirky and tragic, The Every Boy is the kind of book that's has a universal appeal. It plays like a Wes Anderson movie, Henry Every being a unique yet flawed teen trying to comprehend life, love, and the mystery of everything in-between. The real tragedy is his death, which we discover on page one, made all the more melancholy by the poignant misadventures he leaves behind in a meticulously organized ledger of his life so far. Henry Every is relatable, even if he's not, and the entire novel is oddly charming in the details, from the subplot focusing on the most deadly Jellyfish in the world to Henry's mid-novel journey to New York City. It's a trip starting on page one, and will forever be one of my favorites.

- The Gift Moves

I love kids books - for some reason, these kinds of whimsical novellas always have ten times more depth than a regular piece of fiction ever could. This one in particular is that same kind of harrowing tale, a first-person account of Path Down The Mountain's life as she adventures into a post-apocalyptic metropolis to apprentice as a weaver. It sounds simple, even as she finds herself falling in love with the baker's son, but something about this whole novel seems to shake the ground beneath you. It reveals all those unspoken complexities that life throws at us, how difficult it is to truly be free, to be yourself, and it throws all of this in our direction in the form of a 230 page kid's book. The Gift Moves is a journey, both literally and figuratively, and it's one of the most poignant books I've read to date.

Music:

Since music generally speaks for itself, instead of posting a humdrum little overview for each album I'll simply sample what I consider to be my favorite song off of it. You can decide for yourself whether or not you like it!

- Estelle // Shine

Sample: American Boy (Feat. Kanye West)

- Violent Femmes // Add It Up (1981-1993)

Sample: Kiss Off (Live)

- The Tiger Lillies // The Gorey End

Sample: ABC

Movies:

- Penelope

Although I've already professed my love for this adorable movie, (and it's not just because I share a first name with the title character!) I feel the need to shout out what a great flick this is yet again. Penelope is a modern fairy-tale wrapped in eccentric, home-made wrapping paper - it's the tale of a whimsical socialite who was born under her parent's family curse, a curse that to no surprise can only be broken by true love. She escapes from her parent's watchful eye and into the world, drawing public attention much to her mother's dismay, but nevertheless the world outside finds her to be just as charming as she really is and sees past her physical deformities. The movie is sugary sweet with a punch of morals and lessons learned - it's your typical fairy-tale, only completely different!

- Wristcutters: A Love Story

The story is simple: twentysomething Zia wakes up one morning, tidies up his cubicle-sized apartment, puts on something presentable to wear, and promptly kills himself. From there, he finds himself in a mysteriously crueler version of the world he sought to escape from inhabited by fellow jumpers and cutters from around the globe. Despite how depressing it initially sounds, the movie is a quirky trip that instantly landed on my list of personal favorites as soon as I took it out of the DVD player. With curious characters and tiny miracles that seem to brighten up the sleepy backdrop of Wherever, Wristcutters is all around stunning - the kind of movie where as soon as you finish watching it, you know you'll never find anything else like it ever again.

- Everything is Illuminated

Let me preface this blurb with one little fact: I have fallen in love with Eugene Hutz. As if being in the front man of bad-ass gypsy punk band Gogol Bordello isn't enough, he also plays the pivotal role of Alexander Perchov in Everything Is Illuminated, a jive-talking Ukrainian with a passion for tracksuits and "negroes". (His words - not mine.) Characters like Perchov and the lovable Sammy Davis Junior Jr., the canine accomplice to the story's misadventures, really make the film unique and memorable. There's no doubt that it's a drama - the slapstick comedy ceases as soon as the story gets into full swing - but for some reason the story is so infectious and silly that even the biggest hater of theatrics will still find it to be a stunning piece of work.

Shops:

- Anthropologie

My goal in life is to be able to actually buy things from Anthropologie instead of just ogling the merchandise like a crazed bag lady. Despite the fact that most everything in the store is way out of my price-range, Anthropologie always manages to simultaneously have the funkiest and most down-to-earth goods for sale. The style is a strange combination of old and new, with huge oak poster beds draped in bright pink linens or satin babydoll dresses with pockets shaped like owls. It's what the nicest thrift store in town would look like if you lived in a modern day Jane Austen novel - an appealing concept to a new romantic such as myself.

- Betsey Johnson

Those of you who subscribe to Cocoa Kisses will know that I have very recently bought my very first Betsey Johnson dress - a beautiful yellow number that looks like a boho 60's slip. Despite my thrills over this still-unnamed beauty, I will forever crave more from my favorite designer's scattered boutiques - cotton candy dresses that look like hand-spun carnival treats, sequined and cinched gowns that drape down like mermaid tails, gingham printed lovelies taken straight from the dollhouse closet. Betsey has a butterfly garden kind of flair that daydreaming girls swoon over and I'd love nothing more than to meet this spectacular woman, even if just in passing. Miss Betsey will forever be a favorite of mine, through and through.

Always,

Penelope ♥

Daily Inspiration - July 14th

Photo by Kerry Pitt-Hart

"Sometimes you fall, spinning through space, grasping for the things that keep you on this earth. Sometimes you catch them. They can be the hands of the people you love. They can be your pets- pups with funny names, cats with ferocious old souls. The thing that keeps you here can be your art. It can be things you have collected and invested with a certain sense of meaning. A flowered, buckled treasure chest of secrets. Shoes that make you taller and, therefore, closer to the heavens. A suit that belonged to your fairy godmother. A dress that makes you feel a little like the Goddess herself.

Sometimes you keep falling; you don't catch anything.

Sometimes you fall, spinning through space, grasping for the things that keep you here. Sometimes you catch them. Sometimes you don't.

Sometimes they catch you."

- Necklace of Kisses by Francesca Lia Block 

Always,

Penelope ♥

Daily Inspiration - July 4th

Photo by Jo Santiago

In South Florida, The fourth of July is always a spectacular. Fireworks shoot off at midnight, shattering like champagne bottles, announcing the national holiday's vivid presence. We have beach-side celebrations with sand castle building contests, young and old alike meeting to build ocean-side doll houses or life-sized hot dogs or glowing sand angels or the Statue of Liberty. We barbecue in the park while shimmying around to Bruce Springsteen's Born To Run, forever talking about the time that he suddenly appeared in Palm Beach and strolled around the very park we're standing in. There's tropical soda pop in every glass, so fizzy that the ice crackles and snaps indefinitely, and every table boasts Americana classics from apple pie to hamburger buns frosted with sesame seeds. The local taquerias fly American flags from the roof and blast thrift-shop cassettes of Elvis Presley and The Beach Boys, humming out their Spanish equivalents. 

The downtown district is littered with families picnicking by the intercostal, sprawled out on old tablecloths with feasts of peanut butter sandwiches and Mallorca sweet bread and cranberry spring salads and ice cold pop. Their children do cartwheels and handstands on the water's edge, peering over the concrete divider and into the sunwarmed inlet below, watching expectantly for a glimpse of a twenty-foot shark or some other elusive beast. They howl out in desire while tugging on their mother's pant leg, begging for a cotton-candy ice cream cone from the nearby tiny pink shop while mom and dad slow-dance barefoot in the grass to Louis Armstrong.

When the sun begins to set over that ever-expansive ocean, the entire city seems to spontaneously light up in a sudden flicker of fireworks. They shoot into the sky leaving smoky mascara trails, popping into pinks and blues like a wine-bottle cork pulled from the bottle. If all the lights in the tiny city of Palm Beach were to be turned off all at once, the light from those shimmering fireworks alone would be enough to keep the world spinning madly on. They crackle deep into the night, even after everyone has packed up their picnic blankets and carried their sleeping children back to the car, lulled into sleep by the wistful light show. No, those fireworks seem to keep on going, even when their audience has long since been laid to bed.

They just keep on shooting, illuminating the sleepy sky until the stroke of midnight when they too can finally be laid to rest. And there they lay, resting their tired eyes until the next forth of July when they get the chance to mesmerize the world again.

Always,

Penelope ♥

Daily Inspiration - June 24th

from the foot ♥ Spring am PINK!

Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, jolting upright in bed as though sparkling water is coursing through my veins, and think, even if only for a moment, that I am someone else.

A tide-pool of memories sways at me, rocking me back into consciousness, and I see myself as an adult. A twentysomething. The same skinny samurai, only taller, more majestic, happy in a way that seems almost impossible.

I see wedding cakes turned cupcakes, a back-alley wedding with buttercream-colored trellises and hundreds of electric icing lights. Women are swaying in vintage ivory gowns, the men decked out in button-up shirts and low-top Converse under their dress pants. Indian samosas and spinach quiches and vegetarian tamale pies and garlic-tomato tarts are piled sky-high, dressed up almost as vibrantly as the guests are, and delicate desserts of all shapes and colors are served on pastel china plates.

I see apartment buildings that hug the ground in a city where everything reaches up to paint the sky. Spaciously small with a red brick stoop, I see a kitchen so enveloped with light that not using it even for one night seems like a terrible crime. Paper lights are strung up making it appear as though every day is as thrilling as Christmas and silkscreens and paintings and sketches and prints from all over the world line the walls. I see walks in the park, street fairs with caramel musicians throwing themselves on the bongos, restaurants that make you smell like vegetable lasagna and lavender even if you're only walking past, and subway lines that speed past leaving trails of shimmering dust.

I see a bakery painted a mosaic of colors, from pink to brown to blue to orange, with glass ice cases filled with brightly colored and sweet smelling treats. I see poetry slams inside, and teenagers with thrift store wedding dresses under houndstooth overcoats, and painters and musicians coming inside just to sit down and work, strumming out the chords to "Dancing in the Moonlight" and painting neon-colored Ganeshes. I see bento boxes on display with honey rice balls and mozzarella macaroni and cheese and eggplant tea sandwiches and sticky udon noodles inside.

I see little girls in chinese dresses and cowboy boots belting out the lyrics to "Lola". They dress themselves in plain black leotards and flowing Indian skirts, plodding around the city jumping in puddles and playing in the park and throwing themselves at museums gift shops and eating strawberry and brie croquettes at Automats. They paint and sing and dance and act all at once, wanting to be astronauts and ballerinas and veterinarians and rock stars. They run around the house in silky shimmering buttercup pajamas while mom and dad make dinner and watch All About Eve, starting heated debates over who's the better person - Margo or Eve?

I stare at my strawberry-painted feet poking out from under the covers and slowly slip back into my own sleepy body, tossing around the dreams of wedding cakes and lazy days. Rolling back down onto white jersey sheets, I think about these things and ask, "Where have I been? Am I here, in the bed, or am I someone else when I sleep? Are these really memories of yesterday," I ask, "Or are they dreams of days to come?"

Always,

Penelope ♥

Daily Inspiration - June 20th

pinkseat ♥ Keep calm and carry on

When you're young, I think every little girl has high-flying dreams of being a princess. Some girls want to be asian empresses of ginger and jasmine, having love affairs with chamomile tea and dancing precariously on tip-toes. Others want to be French royalty in baby blue, taking honey baths in the high courts of Versailles. Still yet are those who dream of being Indian princesses, belly-dancing under the full moon while visions of Ganesh and Krishna turn through their heads, rustling like the pages of the Bhagavad Gita. Whoever it is we see ourselves as when we close our eyes, in one way or another we all have our flings with royalty.

As we grow up into modern-day queens of the concrete jungle, those royal dreams seem to subside. We put away our pink lip gloss and stop practicing the waltz in our backyards - we fold up that spectacular champagne dress that we promised we would wear to all those royal balls and throw away our favorite plastic pearls. We trade in bunches of pink tulle and translucent sequins for pencil-skirts and oxford heels. We turn our backs to that shimmering fairy-tale world and we enter the strange and unknown - reality.

Maybe it's not that we shun our childhood, our silliness and our dreams, maybe it's just that the little girls inside of us can't take it - maybe they see the world that we're entering, seemingly devoid of everything sugary-sweet, and maybe they're the ones who curl up and wait patiently for the return of our dreamworld. Maybe even they can't spot the everyday magic our world possesses.

The trick of it all is that once we leave our fantasies, we do become those global princesses. Suddenly we're out on our own, making choices, facing each day; we become these strong, independent women in designer dresses and silken pearls. We realize that our childhood alter-egos were never just about bubble baths and tulle, but rather graceful warriors of their respective lands who just so happened to dabble in royalty. It occurs to us that our teeny-bopper dreamers were always there inside while we faced reality, pulling in everything beautiful like planets in orbit, and that they were the ones who kept that childish charm in our lives.

Standing on the street, or in coffee shops, or over dinner, we realize what life-long dream we have fulfilled. We stand over mirrors and see Japanese geishas. Or Rococo darlings. Or caramel yoginis.

Our princesses have never left. They have only grown.

Always,

Penelope ♥

Daily Inspiration - June 14th

Photo by Cinnamon

"My mind wandered. I thought of this: I thought how everyday each of us experiences a few little moments that have just a bit more resonance than other moments- we hear a word that sticks in our minds- or maybe we have a small experience that pulls us out of ourselves, if only breifly- we share a hotel elevator with a bride in her veil, say, or a stranger gives us a piece of bread to feed to the mallard ducks in the lagoon; a small child starts a conversation with us in a Dairy Queen- or we have an we have an episode like the one I had with M&M cars back at the Husky station. And If we were to collect these small moments in a notebook and save them over a period of months we would see certain trends emerge from our collection- certain voices would emerge that have been trying to speak through us. We would realise that we have been having another life altogether, one we didnt we know was going on inside us. And maybe this other life is more important than the one we think of as being real- this clunky day-to-day world of furniture and noise and metal. So just maybe it is these small silent moments which are the true story-making events of our lives."



- Life After God by Douglas Coupland

Always,

Penelope ♥

Daily Inspiration - June 12th

Glossy Love-a-Fair ♥ silhouette#2

I've always been lovestruck with carnivals, especially old spectacles where the cotton candy booths are tiny wagons on wheels and pictures of beautiful flapper circus girls from carnivals past are pasted on the sides of every booth, tent and wall. Everything about carnivals makes me sigh - the midnight neon lights, the sticky sweet food, the ten-story ferris wheel with every gondola looking more like a big pink tea-cup than an actual seat. Something about the idea of staying up all night to just bathe in electric light and ride clattering rides is so appealing to me - like a little girl in the backseat, I'm a moth to the flame of those exploding lights calling my name from the side of the road. It's that childhood instinct to press your nose against the glass and scream "Pull over! There's a carnival!" Although the grown-up in me says to keep driving, to ignore the candy apples and dart-board games, that little girl in the backseat never quite wants to give up being young.

I always pull over.

Always,

Penelope ♥