It is finally cool enough for me to wear something other than a sundress and flip flops

I never thought I would say this, but I’m looking forward to fall.

I would love to own some of these dreamy, ethereal clothes in creamy beiges and silky blacks. I really am lusting after the second photo, the bohemian style top and the little beige skirt. All of her clothes look effortless, chic and maybe best of all — comfortable. You can see more of her lovely clothes here.

As many of you know, my thoughts about this blog have been rather ambivalent since summer began.

I think I finally have come to a decision. I think I am taking a semi-hiatus.

What I am planning to do is basically what I have done all summer: only post if something inspires me. Greatly.

I have already changed the format of the blog in this way, away from posting daily outfits and menus. I have already lost a lot of readership by doing this because I know this is what keeps people coming back, but I just don’t have it in me to do that right now. Maybe in the future I will return to that format.

Meanwhile, I need to expend all my free time and energy on writing my novel.

There were two poignant statements that helped me make this decision, each found in a writing book.

In Becoming a Writer by Dorothea Brande she writes: “Only engage in extracurricular activities that inspire your artistic side.”

In Chapter After Chapter by Heather Sellers, I read about how successful writers limit themselves to only one “extracurricular” activity and that “successful writers limit what goes into their brains, what taxes their time and they select for quality.” Sellers writes that the “number one reason books don’t get finished is this: writers say yes to other things.”

I am more than 40,000 words into my first novel and I need to make it my priority so my posting will probably become even more sporadic.

Thank you to everyone who reads my blog, I have found so many kindred spirits here and so much inspiration, but right now I need to turn inward for a bit and as writer Phyllis Bourne once  told me “write fast, write hot.”

K

Some summer days are so hot and sticky I end up taking two showers each day. My uniform has to be light and breezy and my hair — unfussy. I’ve adopted this slightly too big summer sundress as my uniform, alternating it with other sundresses. Because I am slowly but surely getting back down to a size where my jeans will fit again in the fall, the dress is becoming baggier day by day. But still comfy and effortlessly chic, (I think).

I’ve worn these Urban Outfitter sandals to death … even so-called “comfort sandals” are not as comfy:

Mine are silver

My hair is left to dry naturally and ends up wavy. My makeup — usually a light touch is needed in this heat, but I can’t help but make up my eyes.

I’ll try to take a full-length photo of the dress later …

I’m loving this new tote bag from Target.

 Yesterday I walked to the market and inside its roomy interior was able to fit red onions, yellow onions, tomatoes, cheese, bagels, cream cheese and all the other items I usally cart around in my handbag: wallet, cosmetic bag, two journals, reading glasses and so on.

 BOOKS

Books make me happy.

Really, they make me more than happy.

They enrich my life in so many ways.

They inspire me. They are my friends. They are my comfort. They are my pleasure.

Once I rented a room in a sketchy part of L.A. based on the home’s abundance of books.

I had found a card tacked near the bathroom of an artsy coffeehouse advertising the room for rent.

The day of my appointment to view it, I hesitantly walked up the house’s stone steps, wary because of the rough neighborhood around it. Through a double dead-bolted screen door with thick bars, I saw a small woman with long red hair and a miniskirt vigorously vacuuming the living room rug.

Beneath a fringe of red bangs, she wore dark sunglasses. A cigarette hung from one corner of her mouth.

After a few minutes of knocking and ringing the doorbell, she noticed me.

Inside the front door, a small living room had an upright piano against one wall. On the opposite wall hung an art piece her famous father had made. It was the silhouette of a shapely woman made from spray painted silver cigarette butts.

As she showed me around, the woman never removed her dark glasses.

I had stepped into another world.

What ultimately sold me were the words that came out of her mouth as she directed me to a bedroom door:

“And this is our nonfiction library.”

Bookshelves from floor to ceiling lined every wall.

By the time she directed me to the fiction library (two minutes later), I was writing out a check.

I moved in that weekend.

It was an easy move. I had been staying with a friend and all my belongings were already in my car.

My large upstairs bedroom engulfed my few belongings.

On one wall I set up my radio, stacking CDs beside it on the floor. I propped a few of my religious themed red candles with saints and the Virgin Mary on the window sills.

My clothes hung in the closet above a footlocker that contained a few mementos.

I placed my roll-up futon bed in the middle of the floor. Right near where my head would lie, against the floor on one wall, I lined up all my books — Anais Nin, Hemingway, Jack Kerouac, Isak Dineson, Baudelaire, Tom Wolfe, Umberto Eco, Truman Capote, Hermann Hess, Ayn Rand, S.E. Hinton — so they would be the first things my eyes saw upon awakening.

On My Nighstand (& floor)

In the living room

In the living room

An even better deal on my book:

http://labellafigura.net/book

I liked my black Hot Mama dress so much that I decided to get one in a more summery color — green.

I found this one on ebay for 1/3 the price of my black dress.

But I love them both.