Happy New Year!

Image: Paris

My 27th year was probably my toughest yet. My optimistic naivety was my saving grace this year (I do make magnificent mistakes). But I'm grateful I learned so much.

Apparently, I look for safety in the most dangerous of places. It's when I feel most safe that I'm most in peril. This past year, I wasn't safe. It's no wonder the skizo virgo in me was a panicked mess. 2010 was filled with the unknown, great loss, and me searching for the best way out.

Apparently, I'm also a brazen girl. I take great risks. I'm brutal in my honesty and I boldly go after my desires. (Authenticity, baby!) I follow my heart and I make it happen. I'm a shaker. I need to see physical action and movement. I define the world and myself by what acts we do and how we act towards each other.

And apparently sometimes, I "make it happen" a bit too quickly for the rest of the world (and myself) to catch up. I move quicker than most people blink and I often forget to leave time to think. (Must be the hot-blooded Italian in me).

But this is my chosen path, and I believe it takes a certain amount of bravado/stupidity to walk in my over-the-knee black leather stiletto boots. I have no regrets. And I hope you will continue to follow me.

And so my resolutions for 2011:

1. Be true. Tell the truth to myself and others.

2. Be bold and brave but never afraid. Never give in to my fears.

3. Begin. Rebuild and conquer.

4. Be calm. Take the time to pause.

And to the palmist, the voodoo priest, and my psychic life coach (yes, I'm aware I'm a crazy kook) who all told me that I'd lose everything at 27, suffer losses that would profoundly change me and the way I lived life, and then gain everything and more back... In hindsight, I'm sorry. I don't think I really believed you. But since the first part of your prediction proved true, I'll raise a glass at midnight tonight to toast a hope that you're right about the rest of it.

5. Faith. Trust and have more faith! ;-)

Don't spend your life chasing miracles. Don't spend your life living regrets. Be brave. Make love and change.

I wish you a year filled with happiness and adventure.
The Speakeasy is 1 years old!

Happy New Year!

xoxo,
A. Esterina


Image: the champagne is in the tub

Checkmate

Image: gorgeoustakethecity

"You could be the king but watch the queen conquer."
- Kanye West

In the game of chess, the king is the most important piece but he's also the weakest. Trap a king, win the game.

The queen is the most powerful piece. She roams free and does whatever the fuck she wants. My kinda girl.

Checkmate! The king is dead.

I totally love this game!

True Love

Image: misswallflower

Merry Christmas

All ye ladies and gents, have a Dickens Merry Christmas Day!

Happy Christmas & love,
A. Esterina
xoxo


Images: Whiskey Soaked Cherries

A Long Winter’s Nap

{This is a short, meditation on Christmas that appeared in the Editorial section of The New York Times last year...}

Some years, the holidays seem to bustle right past, and you’re hurled into the new year — flung onward by the gravity of time — before you know it. There are also years, and this is one, when darkness seems to pile up in drifts as the nights grow longer and the day goes down into its burrow earlier and earlier.

Even at its highest, the sun reclines low along the horizon — resting on its elbow, so to speak — and you can feel the coming of dusk as soon as the day slips past noon. This season, Christmas is the pivot of time, when the sun comes to its solstice and we come, too, to a place where our hearts can rest.

What should we feel today on this new morning?

That is the question Christmas always poses. But our feelings know no “should.” We feel what we feel, as one after another the Christmases go past. Over the years, it adds up to a medley of all our emotions, joy, gratitude, compassion, generosity, love, hospitality — and sometimes also loneliness, mistrust, miserliness and even despair.

This is the season for rejoicing at the hope of our own redemption, and yet rejoicing doesn’t always arrive on schedule, any more than hope or redemption do. The fact is that we make what we can of Christmas each year, and some years Christmas makes something entirely unexpected out of us.

Breakfast will come late this morning because we were up, most of us, late into the eve of this holiday, savoring how festive the darkness can be. And before breakfast is long over and the first toy has been broken, the first tears dried, dusk will be gathering outside again. That is the unfailing gift of this season — to comfort us with so much nightfall, to gather us together, and hold us close.

—New York Times Editorial Published: December 24, 2009. A version of this article also appeared in print on December 25, 2009, on page A30 of the New York edition.

Source: lukestorms.wordpress

The Piano

Image: Johnny Depp

"I've only dared to take to an extreme that which you haven't even dared to take to halfway." - Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Underground Man

I went to visit my old piano today.

And there I was tinkering away on the keys of my out-of-tune upright in a dark and cold storage unit, surrounded by ghosts in neat stacked boxes, playing what I could remember of Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto No. 1. I can hardly play anymore but every now and then a classical piece will come back to me.

And now here I sit on the Eve of Christmas Day with an open bottle of wine and a deep love for a dark and brilliant man: Dostoevsky. I'm in the midst of reading his life works. Wine. The Brothers Karamazov. And me.

And the travelling scents of the makings of our Christmas Eve feast coming out of mom's kitchen.

And so I wish you a Happy Christmas, darlings.

It Was a Wonderful Life

Image: It's a Wonderful Life

It was the same every year... Nanu prepared the castagna's (chestnuts) while watching, It's a Wonderful Life. Grand-maman watched Jimmy Stewart (her favourite leading man) from the kitchen as she fried the cudderieddi (potato fritter doughnuts). Sounds traditional, right? My grandparents were anything but...

My grand-maman Esterina was elegant, fiery, and original. She was ahead of her time. Not a traditional nonna at all. In fact, most people wondered if she was even Italian. She only wore Chanel No. 5, she fashionably dressed in pearls and pumps, she avidly discussed politics, she spoke with a soft lilt of a British accent, and she was the only person that could go head-to-head with my grandfather. And win.

My grandfather Valentino was a long lost member of the
Rat Pack. He had an effortless cool. Nanu was a real gentleman, and he never left the house without donning a hat. He told the best stories, he was always the life of the party, and he was a generous man with a heart of gold that could make anything grow. And O Dio he was stubborn.

The conventional part about my progressive Italian-Canadian grandparents was their sense of family. And it shined every Christmas at their authentic Calabrian Christmas Eve feast
(la viglia) that would include thirteen dishes centered around seafood. The baccala (salted cod) was nanu's personal favourite. But lobster and crab, scallops and oysters, and always broccoli with shaved parmesan would be served with an abundance of vino and cheese.

The ladies would mix drinks (gin and tonic my grand-maman's favourite) as everyone gathered in the kitchen to cook, talk, and laugh. Nanu would pass around shots of brandy or cognac. My cousin Vince, my brother Adriano, and I would put up the last of the decorations and set the table. All the while, Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and Sammy Davis Jr. would be playing in the background.

My family always lingered around the dinner table long after the meal was over. And Nanu would tell us tales about our family history and Italia. Grand-maman would tell us anecdotes about nanu, our parents, or us as kids. And we would talk and laugh over the vino. Eventually, nanu would get the castagna's, some pannetone (sweet bread), and champagne to toast our blessings. Even in those moments, I knew I was lucky to be part of the scene: My family gathered around the table, the freshly fallen snow, and grand-maman's decorated tree.

But last Christmas, my nanu was diagnosed with cancer. I spent much of the holiday taking care of him until the day after Christmas when he collapsed and was taken to the hospital where he died three months later. My nanu was a strong man and a brave fighter to the very end, but he left us suddenly as my grand-maman had only a few years before. His passing marks the end of an era for my family.
Of course there will be new memories in the making, but Christmas will never be the same.

This Christmas Eve will be the most difficult and strange. I am most looking forward to midnight mass in Italian where I can light a candle and pay my respects. I'm a girl whose made a life (and a blog) out of making the most of everything but this Christmas, I simply don't have the heart for it.

What I admired most about my grandparents was their ability to adapt to change. They left their old country behind and embraced their new life in Canada without clinging to the old country as most immigrants did. And yet, they always retained their culture. I know they'd expect me to do the same. Next year.

I miss my extraordinary grandparents. It was a wonderful life.

Delight

Image: Ryan Gosling

Morning Light

Image: rumid

Green tea and me blogging from this space every morning. Wouldn't it be lovely?

Oh, baby!

Image: kjerstis

Eclectic

Images: mixr

An eclectic mix of vintage and industrial.

Humans on Loan

Image: Yonge Street Media

The Toronto Public Library hosted a Human Library Event this past November. The concept of a "human library" originated about a decade ago in Copenhagen as a way to encourage acceptance, deter prejudice, and bring people of different backgrounds together for one-on-one conversations.

Volunteers at the Toronto Public Library Event included a police officer, a sex-worker-turned-club-owner, a comedian, a model/cancer survivor, and a homeless person. 200 Torontonians checked out a human book.

What a novel idea! Storytelling is the oldest way to pass along wisdom. The Toronto Public Library is considering making the program long-term. Let's hope this catches on.

Sliding Doors

Images: Decesare Design Group


Image: Atlanta Homes Magazine

Aglow

Image: Tiffany & Co. Holiday 2010

Connected

"They make it look so easy, connecting with another human being. It's like no one told them it's the hardest thing in the world." - Michael C. Hall as Dexter Morgan in Dexter

Source: livetosurf

Brad and Angelina really are fascinating. The sexiest man and sexiest woman alive are probably the two most well connected people on the planet. And yet, look at how connected they are to each other.

You get the sense that it's just them against the whole world.

Pretty Blue

Source: atcasa

Fresh Paint

Image: apostrophe9

Hello Darlings,

I wanted to take a moment to thank my readers for their feedback. The Speakeasy is my manic dream and I'm so glad you all enjoy it.

I've decided to add a new category: {architect} build it . Given that I live like a gypsy these days, I guess you could call {architect} my vision board. It's my virtual home and wish list for where I will live and love once I find a place where me and things go together.

This is the start of something great and I'm grateful you're here with me in my happy place. I hope you enjoy your stay.

xoxo,
ae

"I don't want to own anything until I find a place where me and things go together. I'm not sure where that is but I know what it's like... It's like Tiffany's." - Audrey Hepburn as Holly Golightly in Breakfast at Tiffany's

Hipsters & Supersoakers

Hecq Vs Exillion - Spheres Of Fury from Tim.Chris.Film on Vimeo.

Waging war on cool.

Kanye

Image: Kanye West

"I'm never at my worst because even at my lowest, it's a learning experience. It's something that I'll bounce ideas off of. So I can take negatives and flip them into positives at all times." - Kanye West.

With a groundbreaking studio album, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, and the striking art-film, Runaway, the most hated man in music rises out of the ash to become a celebrated artistic genius.

Well done, Kanye.

In layers, Kanye's revealing art makes the most out of his bad reputation. He's a man struggling to accept his own male angst and douchebaggery. A man who lives up to his own mistakes? Wow.

(Insert applause here).

Epic Love

Image: Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor

The last day of March,

My darling Sleeping Child, I am oddly shy about you. I still regard you as an inviolate presence. You are as secret as the mysterious processes of the womb. I’m not being fancy…I have treated women, generally, very badly and used them as an exercise for my contempt - except in your case.

I have fought like a fool to treat you in the same way and failed. One of these days I will wake up - which I think I have done already - and realise to myself that I really do love. I find it very difficult to allow my whole life to rest on the existence of another creature. I find it equally difficult, because of my innate arrogance, to believe in the idea of love. There is no such thing, I say to myself.
There is lust, of course, and usage, and jealousy, and desire and spent powers, but no such thing as the idiocy of love. Who invented that concept? I have racked my shabby brains and can find no answer.

But when people die, those who are taken away from us can never come back. Never, never, never, never, never (Lear about Cordelia). We are such doomed fools. Unfortunately, we know it. So I have decided that, for a second or two, the precious potential of you in the next room is the only thing in the world worth living for. After your death there shall only be one other and that will be mine. Or I possibly think, vice versa.

Ravaged love,

And loving Rich

-Richard Burton in a letter to Elizabeth Taylor (1973)

Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor never really fell out of love with each other. To this day, Taylor keeps the last letter Burton ever wrote to her before his sudden death by her bedside.

Dear Santa

Image: ecoeduca.cl

Dear Santa:

As I'm sure you know, polar bears are dying! A third of all polar bears will be extinct by 2050. And by the end of this century, the species will be gone entirely.

Climate change is melting Arctic sea ice. Bears are starving and drowning as they have to swim farther and farther to reach solid ice and food.

So please Santa, this Christmas all I'd really like is an adopted polar bear.

Happy Christmas!

xoxo,
ae

Check out polarbearsinternational.org and worldwildlife.org to adopt a polar bear this Christmas. It only costs $25.

Sign a petition to President Obama to save the polar bear.

Perspective

Image: Flikr

I can't shake this feeling I have. It's been nagging at me all day. Today has been unremarkable and yet... something's strange. I feel I'm down side up.

I have a tendency to live life at a different angle. That often requires me to have a little creative perspective. Especially since my destination is often unknown.

But though I may admit I have no answers, I do have plenty of perspective. I trust myself. I live on instinct. And I let gravity tug and pull me a way.

It's not exactly a science... But I do encourage you to try it.

Yes

Image: reblogged from Karmahsutra

Yes. Those babies are lying on concrete.

Yes. That bottle is empty.

Yes. Those are mosquitos swarming their little bodies.

Yes. This is the condition of Pakistan, at the moment.

A couple of weeks have gone by since the floods in Pakistan have flowed and the number of people effected by this are staggering & record breaking.

Over 20 MILLION PEOPLE.

That is MORE THAN THE COMBINED TOTAL of the 2004 Tsunami, the 2005 Kashmir earthquake, the 2010 Haiti earthquake, and the American Katrina disaster.

How many of you knew about this? It’s a shame at the extreme lack of coverage on this horrific disaster. Pakistan is getting MINIMAL help.

Ignorance never ends, a recent poll was taken in America on whether if they would donate or have donated to Pakistan or not. 67% DO NOT wish or want to help Pakistan. 67%.

And as for the donations that are being sent… 60% of aid needed now, has not been delivered. Who has them & why haven’t they reached the public?

I was born in Karachi, Pakistan. My city is located in the south region of Pakistan (Sindh province). I can not fathom the words….The amount of hurt I am feeling.

No one is helping.

I try to blog about it daily…only getting a few notes or so..I post a picture of myself and income the notes and comments. What I’m trying to say is, Please…take note of this. These people are innocent and now they are homeless and sick. Children are dying quickly due to the lack of care. People have drowned, crops are ruined..animals are dead, & homes are gone. It is being speculated that my city will eventually drown since it’s already low. The floods haven’t hurt my region yet but they have affected my friends & families home and so many other innocent people.

This picture breaks my heart..I want you all to look at this picture. What do you see?

Do you see terrorists? Do you see future killers? Do you see another plot against America? Do you see that in those mosquitoes that can possibly and most likely have left diseases such as malaria? Do you see harm in that empty bottle?

Extremists are the ones to blame, not Muslims. Why should we be left hopeless? We didn’t do anything.

And as for the Qu’ran burning this weekend in Florida, I believe….

The thought of that night makes me cry. Do you all understand the severity and ignorance of that act? Why isn’t anyone stopping them? My religion, my faith didn’t hurt you. EXTREMISTS DID. They are NOT religious. My faith is NOT a cult.

I don’t know what to do. I honestly don’t know. I’ve never felt this helpless. No one is helping, no one cares. Fuck neither do my own best friends know much about this.

Just look at this picture and think about what you’ve just read.

Help. Please.

If you can…I’m not asking for a shitload of cash. But please, try to donate. Donating to UNICEF will send aid to children. Donate to the Red Cross & the UN Foundation. I trust the most in these three foundations, they’ve actually managed to send and successfully help the victims.

One-fifth of the country is under water; 20 million+ people are homeless. All I ask if for you to help a little and spread awareness.



reblog and spread the word.

reblog..

Reblog. Please.

Begging you all, please reblog
Please Reblog.

Reblog. seriously.

Here is FYFT good post for the year..

god bless all the effected….
i just don’t even know what to say.

this is just heartbreaking

Reblog every time.

This deserves a lot more notes than it has.

Help them.

Please.

Burn, baby, burn

Image: Serra de Leba Road near Lubango, Angola

May the bridges I burn light the way.

Fate vs. Free Will

Image: Park Benches & Books

"Then I defy you, stars!" - Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

Silver Screen Starlets

New York Times Magazine's Hollywood issue features,
14 Actors Acting as silent film silver screen starlets.

Watch James Franco making out with himself and other modern day starlets here.

Kiss with a fist

Image: Criterion

I loved the way he lied.

Dance!

The Sonics



James Brown, Godfather of Soul.

Heavier than Heaven

Image: Anna Esterina, Panama

"The heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to the earth, the more real and truthful they become. Conversely, the absolute absence of burden causes man to be lighter than air, to soar into heights, take leave of the earth and his earthly being, and become only half real, his movements as free as they are insignificant. What then shall we choose? Weight or lightness?"

- Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

Named after it's own abundance, Panama overflows with fullness and demands more. The land felt alive with hunger, thirst, and desire. Panama seemed an abyssal appetite.

I lacked the appetite but I fed on it anyhow. The people were engaging. The landscape was breathtaking. The sightseeing and activities were plentiful.

I pressed my ear to hot beach sand and heard a drumming heartbeat. I swam in warm Pacific waters and felt blood rushing fast. At night, the whispers on the thick air infected my dreams. Panama was voracious and I was at its peril.

I could feel my temperature rising. Panama was a fever burning away at my toxicity.

This Panamanian paradise was the epitome of lightness. The resort life lacked any burden. It was a pleasureable existence that voided the mind. And I needed it.

Appropriately, I was carrying Milan Kundera's, The Unbearable Lightness of Being, with me at the insistence of my philosopher friend. Kundera's existential plot is written opposite Nietzsche's concept of eternal return. The characters treat love and sex lightly and as based on coincidence. Their linear lives of lightness lack the happiness that comes with the heavy burden of making decisions in lives of repetition.

In Panama I found some center of gravity that I'd been missing. I became grounded. And I found myself missing the weight of being. For the first time in a very long time, the girl who is always in flight longed to return home.

I'm happy to be home, darlings.

xoxo,
ae