With Susan in town last night we treated ourselves to supper at Saul - such an exquisite meal. Seared mackerel with roasted peppers, preserved meyer lemon...plated with the single most delicious green olive I've ever tasted...Rabbit Loin with mustard and stuffed cabbage....Venison...Scallops with white beans, hen of the woods mushrooms and chorizo...Baked Alaska.

Somehow Eric and I manage to have a big blow out every time we go out to eat. (Last night it was over the price of this Finnish Arabia moomin mug we found many months ago.) Remember Restaurant 360? So many good fights about nothing over oysters and Chenin blanc.

In the end we always chalk it up to our mutual stubbornness and his penchant for a good argument. We went to bed exhausted after a long work day and the richest food I've eaten in a long time. I dreamt of old jobs, handlebar mustaches, the number 7 and J. Edgar Hoover.

the BOSS.

the BOSS arrived this evening to have dinner and go over some OFFICIAL BUSINESS. (Which means my flower budget.) So to prepare, I re-shot the daffodils, looked at this hilarious blog, made cat toys out of dead flowers and curly willow branches (pictured left), and annoyed Eric by yelling "Poppies!" in the voice of Edith Bunker every time he entered the room.

...is it cocktail time yet?

thursday morning.

weekend ephemera

1) Brooklyn from the F Train 2) Aaron waiting for grub at Michells Soul Food on Vanderbilt 3) Faith Wilding’s Crocheted Environment (1972) at PS1 4) A cop on Jay Street 5) Window display at Bergdorf - I want to know who gets all thoses etch-a-sketches 6) some beans and greens with Lemon Confit...it makes everything seem special.

...and one more picture from the weekend that I really enjoy, but some readers may find offensive. It a shot of John and Jackie (visiting from Minneapolis) in front of a defaced tooth.

See you tomorrow with flowers...
sarah

The last of the purple flowers... I snapped this picture early this morning in bright sun. That's a lilac in there...but a hybridized one from Holland. They grow them straight and tall with no scent. It's the first time I've gotten them for the shop and probably the last. A flower with no smell feels like a defeat.


It's been a busy few days here. We've had company in town and just a lot of things going on I suppose. Today I felt the need to be alone all day long. My yogi said yesterday 'we need to remember to turn some of our compassion inwards, before we can be truly compassionate outwards.' Unfortunately, I had avoided yoga for 6 weeks, and now regardless of compassion, cannot lift my arms above my head.

*****

This is a shot of Brazilian artist Lygia Clark's Cabeça colectiva (Collective Head) at WACK! (on view at PS1) an exhibition which has garnered loads of attention as it tours around the country, afloat on the recent buoyancy which Feminism has enjoyed in the cultural zeitgeist. Basically visitors build the 'head' from objects and notes they adhere to a simple hanging structure. The work is about collectivity. As active participants in authorship, the public creates and alters the art - a stark contrast to the rigid [and...male] authorship standards of Modernism [where one artist creates a masterpiece and you better not touch it].

The clinching moment for me was finding this note stuck in amongst the other detritus and ephemera:


It is moments like these that help to remind me how funny life is.

See you soon,
Sarah

Untitled (typewriter) by An Hoang and some quince and rice flowers. I'll post again this evening...now off to PS1 for some stimuli.

If you are looking for a way to kill some time on the internet - look no further: WELSH CASTLE INDEX.

Black Mountain at Bowery last night knocked our socks off. If there is such a think as elegant head rock, this is it. They play tonight in Williamsburg according to Aaron, who has the Village Voice tattooed on his forearm each week. If you know the Bowery Ballroom, you may be familiar with the two velvet-curtained VIPish alcoves adjacent the balcony bar. We snagged one early and took turns impersonating Stevie Nicks while we waited through the opening act...but that's not the sort of thing I should discuss here. Ended up at Hotel Delmano...a newish cocktail spot in Bburg where everyone sports an ironic mustache. Go - if nothing else for the beautiful bathroom which I was about to snap a picture of before I realized that, in general, one should refrain from casually snapping pictures in the ladies room.


xoxo
sarah

cranky pants cure-all's

- listening to Rick James on repeat
- one piece of lemon poundcake plus half of Eric's afternoon cookie
- 4 cups of coffee
- buying stuff online
- burning sage
- radio lab season premiere on laughter
- forcing the cat to dance to rick james

******

In other news, we got our test candles back yesterday. Real good stuff; the two we're going with are very different - one is sweet and floral, the other dark and mossy. I'll share the details next week when I figure out what to call them.

Oh sh**, the cat just drooled on the computer...

I hope your weekend is full of sleep, adventure, dry socks, spaghetti and love. And I hope you don't have to go to Williamsburg for a birthday party in the rain. And I hope you finish your thesis one week and 3 days early.

xxxxx
sarah

Meditations on Flo Rida (or an angry regurgitation of a recent Sound Check)

Planting some jams we forgot in the trash heap out back the store today. I don't know what these are...tulips from Alice and Stu's wedding maybe? Also propagating more purple heart into old coffee cans.

Brother Neil [Young] recently said music has lost it's power to change the world. This statement was the calalyst for a recent edition of Jon Schafer's Sound Check titled Music and the Power to Change.

The show circuitously contrasts the music of 1968 (specifically Bookends by Simon and Garfunkel) with popular music of today. Pete Fornatale reads aloud the lyrics of the recent #1 song in America; Flo Rida's Low. "Apple-bottom jeans...boots wit tha fur..."

You know this song. You've been subjected to it inadvertently; it's driving down your block at 1am blaring from cars with 22" rims, it's on a mix CD your roommate brought home and casually put on during an innocent hand of rummy...and, at its 8th week at #1 on the charts, it is inevitably the back drop for countless local radio spots. Embedded in culture, my friends, is this:

-- MOM DO NOT WATCH THIS --

In 1968 everyone was listening to Simon and Garfunkel. Take the song America (my favorite) for instance...a song documenting the bus trip of two soul-searching friends looking to find AMERICA. Alas, what they see is drastically different than the America burned in their consciousness - I mean it's the New Jersey Turn Pike kids! What if Simon and Garfunkel rewrote that song today? The same kids would be on a Jet Blue flight to Miami un-communicating through their iPods.

What happened to music is clear to me; its sucking a bank roll somewhere in an LA corporate office tower trying to find the next nobody to rap lyrics that will be even more offensive to women. Ironically, young women will here this new song, think it's funny and post video's of themselves dancing to it on YouTube. I'm just saying..

Tune back in later for some pretty things with no ranting.

SR











Confluence of factors: popular taste and asethetic achievement

'sure we deliver in manhattan'; boots wit tha fur; St. Tropez

So truth be told, relaxing makes me anxious as hell. I spent the past two days without obligation; my feet up watching movies and staring out the window. By the end of it I felt I needed some sort of dreaded phonecall, a homework assignment and a xanax. I've now been at work since 6:30 am*; it's nice to be back.

I hammed it up at the flower market this morning. St. Tropez tulips pictured above. I swore off tulips last week, but couldn't resist these puppies with their purple zebra stripes. Picked up mostly purple loot...more photos to follow tomorrow.

I left work for a few hours to make a delivery to Soho this afternoon. It's pictured up top of this post. Occasionally I'll deliver to Manhattan (never trust messengers with flowers) if one or more of the following conditions are met:

- There is a lot of soap to be wrapped at the shop.
- The delivery location is within walking distance to Murray's cheeses.
- The delivery is in close proximity to some semblance of the artworld I feel comfortable re-visiting.

Today's delivery to Soho (ie. Wooster st. galleries) was for a woman I recently met who is opening THIS store soon in Austin. Lucky Texans.

Generally unimpressed by the state of contemporary art these days, I was pleasantly surprised at Spencer Brownstone by the sequined works of Chili Moon Town Tour Productions (a collaboration between Anna Galtaross & Daniel Gonzalez).

Attempting to stir awareness of the immigrant experience, Chili Moon makes works that flush out the ironies formed by material desires and metropolitan realities. The sting of bling, if you will.

Real good stuff.

I then trotted over to Deitch projects to see the much buzzed Michel Gondry exhibition. Be Kind Rewind has turned the gallery into a makeshift movie making machine. You and 4 of your friends can sign up to create a short film using the equipment and stages provided for you by Mr. Gondry. [Imagine telling your own tragic breakup in the poetics of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind?] Or you can just visit the gallery and tour the sets. No beach scenery unfortunately.


There is, however, a nifty moving train set, a police station, and a bedroom with changeable wallpaper. These interiors have the appeal of the dankest (I mean that in the literal sense) Salvation Army and the pizazz of Andy Rooney. Everything looks like cardboard even when it isn't. The lighting is impossibly fluorescent and the props are uncannily generic. All in all, very charming...but just that really.

I just used the word pizazz in a sentence. See you tomorrow,
Sarah
ps. 'boots wit thafur' gonna have to wait till then.

My favorite day of the week is Sunday. It's our Friday as we try to take Monday completely off. Sunday also marks the last day we sell flowers, so late in the afternoon I usually play with the left-overs . Here are some pics. Also, I am going to take 2 days off (that's right, I said it!). Partly because my star charts have been neglected the past few weeks and partly because I'm feeling pretty damn fried lately. Fried, as in tonight's Fairway fantasy: I'm at the checkout next to a huge pyramid of listerine and I imagine taking a bottle, biting the cap off and spraying everyone in line with it yelling something about germ-fighting. I shared this with Aaron and we had a laugh, but come on, we just can't be mowing people down with mouthwash.
OK, see to you on Wednesday!
xx sarah

Eric and I go real good together for lots of reasons; 1. his gemini to my leo 2. his baking to my cooking. Truth be told, I'm no baker. I fake it. The feats I've shared with you here are the few worth mentioning. My problem is simple - I can't measure. For example, last night as we got our things together to make brownie sundaes for dinner (genius, I know) we realized that the measuring cups are at my house. My suggestion that we estimate didn't go over well. So I ran to the neighbors to borrow some, while Eric got busy (he cleans before he cooks...wow).


So anyway, I am pretty fussy about brownies and all, but this is hands down the best brownie I've had. Even the cat was incredulous. The ice cream, in case you're wondering is mint chocolate cookie, a bit of an indulgence...but the equivalent of brushing your teeth.


1 cup salted butter, at room temperature by way of radiator perhaps
2 cups sugar
4 ounces bittersweet chocolate
3 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa
1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
1 cup walnuts

1. Preheat the oven to 350° F. Butter and flour a 9x13-inch square pan.

2. Place the softened butter in a large bowl or the bowl of an electric mixer, and whisk until it is pale yellow and light. Add the sugar and whisk until the mixture is light and fluffy. Whisk in the cooled chocolate, then add the eggs one at a time, whisking after each addition. Whisk in the vanilla, then sift in the flour, cocoa and the salt and fold them in until combined. Fold in the nuts until they are well distributed throughout the batter.

3. Transfer the batter to the prepared baking pan, smoothing it out evenly, and bake in the center of the oven until the brownies have puffed slightly around the edges and are shiny on the surface, about 30 minutes. They will be very moist in the center. Remove from the oven and let cool before cutting into squares.

Oh brother, I'm beat today. Yesterday went swimmingly, and thats all I can say right now. I hope some of you got some lovely treats from your significant others. I loved meeting them all!

I was pretty worthless around the shop today. Unless you count the 30 min. I spent surfing Myspace. Wow. My cure is going to be a pan of brownies, The Maytrees, and then The Passenger. Not necessarily in that order.
Happy Friday everyone.

xx
Sarah

p.s. I wanted to say how nice it is to hear your compliments...We started the flower side of Saipua on a whim a year and a half ago, just sorta learning as we go. Your encouragement is such a lovely support.

v-day pics + a kickin mix

"You Run Hot & Cold" MIXTAPE (VALENTINE)

Vangelis - Love Theme (Blade Runner)
The Guess Who - These Eyes
Gram Parsons & Emmy Lou Harris - Love Hurts
Elton John - This Train Don't Stop There Anymore
Antony & the Johnsons - The Lake
Till Tuesday - Voices Carry
Gang of Four - I Love a Man in a Uniform
The Crew-outs - ShBoom
Rick James - Sexy Lady
Chromeo - Bonafide Lovin
Paul Simon - Fifty Ways to Leave Your Lover
The Velvet Undergroung - I'll be Your Mirror
Iggy Pop - Sea of Love

We got to get cracking over here - but wanted to show you some stock for v-day. I will write again at the end of the day with more fun stuff and also to share with you the completed BLACKHEART MIXTAPE.
Wheeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!

THE BOOK

There are not a lot of words to describe this scrap book we bought at auction Monday. It was on table 11, the last table to be aucitoned, and judging by the thinning crowd it could have gone for $5 ... or for a lot more. Either way I felt I had to have it.

The disconcerting thing about auctions is that when you really want something - someone else may want it more than you do. Like that Toucan needlepoint in September. It's always a gamble, and sometimes you lose.

So anyway around 10 pm on monday night, with a heart racing and weak knees, I started bidding against a stranger on this scrapbook. Afterwards, loading out loot out to the car, I passed him on the stairs explaining the bidding war to his wife. She had wanted it and was upset. He referred to me as 'this lady' and I felt sort of bad. Well, not really that bad. It's a treasure, and I love it.