Pour the champagne

Image: High on Sex

"Come quickly, I am drinking the stars!"
- Dom Pierre Pérignon

Given that Pérignon was a monk, this might not be what he had in mind while he was sipping his champagne. But today is my birthday. That makes it my day to be debaucherous! You were expecting sinful cake and instead I gave you drunk lesbians.

For all you stoners and winos celebrating something or nothing today, here are some social media playgrounds for you...

Leaf.ly is for marijuana lovers. You can rate and review the best buds, track your fave strains, and get recommendations.

Cork'd is for wine aficionados. You can review, share, and discover new wine.

What's your poison?

Heartfelt gratitude to all my lovers for the well-wishes today. I am spoiled.

Jazz Age Lawn Party

Images: The Sartorialist and Glamour

This weekend is the smashing 2010 Jazz Age Lawn Party on Governor's Island. New York City's finest flappers and gents will sport their best 1920's fashions to dance the Charleston at the annual Gatsby affair on the Governor's lawn.

Tug o' war, ferry rides, a motorcar exhibit, cocktails, a pie contest, and swing dancing to a big band orchestra... This is my idea of a picnic!

It's old fashioned fun straight out of another era. A good party never goes out of style. Gatsby style! In charming old New York.

Just one more reason I heart New York City. I must go.

Annual Jazz Age Lawn Party on Governor's Island
August 28 & 29, 2010
11 a.m. - 6 p.m.
Admission $10

stand up

Image: Txema Yeste

Stand up. This might hurt a little...

Bound & Determined

Image: Masochist Beauty

"I am so thirsty for the marvelous that only the marvelous has power over me. Anything I can not transform into something marvelous, I let go. Reality doesn't impress me. I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy, and when ordinary life shackles me, I escape, one way or another. No more walls." - Anaïs Nin

The thing about life that frightens me is the people. Bound by negative conclusions, we all seem to be trapped in a hall of mirrors. Illusions distort what's really there. We only see horror. And misery multiplies.

Everybody has answers but nobody has happiness. We are so quick to accept completely incomplete as we follow small voices through dark, smoke, and mirrors.

... Which way is out?!

I have called my shackles many names: parents, spouse, mortgage, job, etc., but the only real cage I've ever been in was the one I built for myself. It was made of my fears, both real and imagined. Until I let go.

Let go of all you hang onto. Abandon fear. Shatter illusions. Hopelessness is the real danger. Never trying is the most frightening of fates.

I believe life is a marvel of our own making. The only thing I am bound to is my determination to live a marvelous life. Everything I lose, I gain.

No more walls. Just let go. Believe in the wealth of possibility. There is nothing else.

Brave Heart

Image: National Geographic

A shaman once told me that the greatest distance I'd ever travel would be twelve inches: from my head to my heart. For the egoic head to live by what the authentic heart feels takes an entire army of courage, faith, and love. Or perhaps... it only requires a little bit of science and anatomy.

Scientists have recently discovered that the heart is a brain. The heart is a sophisticated organ that is made of the same neurons, neurotransmitters, proteins, and cells that are found in the brain. This means the heart is actually able to act independently of the brain -- to learn, remember, feel, sense, and relay this information to the brain... heart to head.

Damn shamans and their simple yet infinitely complex wisdom! I wish ancient wisdom came in bottles but divine power wouldn't be quite so divine if it were only that easy.

Today's message to myself and you is to tell the truth. Tell the truth. Tell the truth. Tell the truth! Your happiness depends on it. Be honest with yourself and others to establish authentic connections. It's the only way to see your heart clearly. And it's the only way to feel your freedom.

You are your best investment. Live with a brave heart. Be true.

Oil & Water

Images:"Oil & Water" by Vogue Italia

The fashion world may be choking up oil but I'm sure Vogue sales are coming up gold.

September's Vogue Italia features darkly provocative photos entitled, "Water & Oil" by famed photographer Steven Meisel. The controversial 24-page spread was inspired by the BP oil spill disaster on the Gulf Coast and features model Kristen McMenamy washed-up on a beach, coughing up oil and wearing oil-soaked black feathered outfits.

New York Magazine called it, "beautiful and revolting, eye-catching and alienating."

Refinery29 was angered by, "the glamorization of disaster for the sake of fashion."

And Styleite insisted, "if this isn't art, we don't know what is."

Editor-in Chief at Vogue Italia, Franca Sozzani called the spread, "Only visual. We gave a message but in a visual way just to take more care about nature."

I think it makes for a fascinating ethical debate. And I love the fact that the seaweed-style necklace featured in the shoot is made from recycled inner tubes sourced from the Gulf Coast by eco-designer Kathleen Nowak Tucci of My Sister's Art.

If you care to help clean up, donate directly to United Way, National Wildlife Federation, or volunteer.

Among Stars

Image: The Perseids meteor shower

I hope you catch diamonds scattering across the sky tonight. The Perseids meteor shower is happening tonight August 12 and tomorrow August 13.

The annual Perseids shower sparkles every August, when Earth passes through scattered pieces of rock and dirt left behind in the comet Swift-Tuttle's orbit around the Sun. As these particles collide with Earth's atmosphere, they burn-up as streaks of shimmering lights, scattered like floating diamonds in the dark night sky.

This year's Perseids are slated to be a spectacular show, with clear skies and a 2-day old sliver New Moon making for dim moonlight and optimal observing conditions.

If you're lucky enough to get away from bright city lights, you could see as many as 75-108 meteors an hour.

Brilliant.

The Devil Inside

PHMPMGY4HTEE
Image: The Hopsicle "beer" popsicle

Diablo Royale Este is Jason Hennings' new Mexican saloon on Avenue A in NYC's East Village.

The sinful saloon boasts a La Caja China smoker roasting box where chef Peter Klein spit-roasts pigs in the "secret garden" backyard patio. Classic 80s rock videos are projected on "screening room" walls. And the basement "bordello" is a second bar with mirrored ceilings and a hidden billiard table where the witchdoctor bartender concocts devilish drinks.

The Diablo Ricky is three parts Dos Equis and one part frozen margarita.

The Hopsicle is a frozen can of Tecate beer mixed with simple syrup and lime juice, bathed in tequila, and then sliced in half to be served with a wooden stick - like a push pop for alcoholics.

Menu fare includes the inventive croque monsieur chimichanga made with gruyère and poblano sauce, fried oyster tacos, sizzling fajitas, and hot sauces for guests to try "at their own risk."

Saint jar candles galore, deer antler chandeliers overhead, bordello-blood red walls, and there are hidden staircases that lead absolutely nowhere.

It sounds like a wicked experience.

The Ballerina Project

Images: The Ballerina Project

An East Village artist photographs dancers in an around New York City.

Support the project. Purchase a print or
Like The Ballerina Project on Facebook.

Look again

Image: Nightmare brunette

Look again. You probably missed it: She's laughing.

Samsara

Image: Bar-Headed Geese

Here I am. I wish I could blog that I've been away living the high life these past few months. But the truth is that rather than sink myself and this blog into a depression, I took some time off. I've been floating instead of flying. (Unglamorous, I know).

When I was a little girl, I would birdwatch on early Saturday mornings with my grandparents. So when on the morning of my grandfather's funeral, I met a pair of mourning doves on the walk up the drive to grandad's house, I took it as a sign. Together the doves flew up to the rooftop to sing me their sad song. And I wished I too were a bird. But to reach the heavens, I'd have to be a bar-headed goose - they can fly the highest.

Bar-headed geese are actually swans, called the hamsa in Indian culture. They are considered the king of birds and possessors of sacred knowledge. The hamsa are able to fly more than 33,000 feet over the Himalayas (and Mount Everest) at 50 km per hour from their home of Tibet to winter in India. Their flight is considered divine "continuous flow" and outside the cycle of samsara (life, death, and rebirth).

The hamsa's flight pre-dates the geography of the land and altitude of the moutains. Rather than change their course, the hamsa swans have stubbornly adapted to become super birds: They have a larger wing span for their weight, they are able to breathe under low oxygen conditions and reduce their heat loss, and the haemaglobin of their blood has higher levels of oxygen affinity.

Remarkable! I should also mention that they eat pearls. These birds are glamour.

I dedicate this post to my grandparents, Valentino (1935-2010) and Esterina (1937-2003) who loved birds. Their kind spirit and love of nature mended many broken wings. They would expect me to fly. Real high. And adapt, like a super bird. I miss them.

A heartfelt thanks to all my supporters. Who kept checking back. And who kept asking for more.