I've moved!


Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Done is better than perfect.

How do you like my new motto? I give it credit for the big move today! I've re-designed and moved my blog and website to their new home at curatetheday.com & karinabania.com

How to follow along:

Follow my blog with Bloglovin (if you already are please add the new URL!)
Follow via RSS
• Subscribe by email (click through on the sidebar on my new site)
• Add www.curatetheday.com to your bookmarks toolbar (curatetheday.blogspot.com will redirect you here from now on too)

I look forward to continuing the conversation. xx

welcome summer


Friday, June 21, 2013

it's our first weekend of summer! we're heading out of town for camping adventure with a big group of friends. it's an annual thing.

on repeat:

swim suits + sunscreen
squirt guns + scavenger hunts
portable bar + playlists
making memories with friends.

image: groovy soup check out my pinterest board field notes for more outdoor goodness. 

have a great weekend!!

Valuing Nothing


Wednesday, June 19, 2013

"Nothing, like something, happens anywhere." Neil Gaiman, Fragile Things 

Do you value doing nothing? Do you see it as "something" to be valued? Loved these rules for a simpler day. It's summer and I'm embracing a little bit of nothing. How about you? 

images via: a d├ętacher, egmv, tales of endearment

The course


Monday, June 17, 2013

Everything runs its course. Moods, relationships, habits, passions, being stuck. This weekend we went roller skating, something that I had not done since the last time I had done it all those years ago. In the seventies and eighties, it was kind of my thing. Just thinking that I was around in the seventies, doing things like roller skating at the rink, makes me happy; age is good. 

Feeling the wind rush through my hair every time I passed the circular fan at the far end made me feel alive in a way that I have not felt in a long time. Each lap I felt myself becoming lighter. It's amazing that feeling of body memory. I knew how to skate. It all came back. Friday nights at the roller rink with friends, going into the darkness, the music, a bit of nervousness and the feeling of freedom. It was all there, stored and brought back to the surface for me to live again. 

Now, is a specific period in my life too. I am raising young kids. I will look back on this period as one of the best parts in my life. I will associate certain memories with it, smells, sounds, places, and events. I will want to relive them again one day and I will try. 

Looking over the course of a lifetime there are divisions, chunks of time that can be separated out not only by age or years, but by the more subtle things like relationships, music, a circle of friends, the house you are living in. A course is a continuous progression from one point to the next in onward movement. While it's true that we can never go back and we don't know what lies ahead, I think we can revisit things. Maybe time is like the roller rink, less a straight line, but a never ending circle. Each time around is different, your path is never the same, but you come back around, things repeat themselves subtly. I may begin to imagine time this way, for less would be that rushed feeling of "running out of time." Or maybe I will just revisit the roller rink again and let the memories come back and settle into the present moment of contentment. 

Life waits


Friday, June 14, 2013

1  "She seems so cool, so focused, so quiet, yet her eyes remain fixed upon the horizon. You think you know all there is to know about her immediately upon meeting her, but everything you think you know is wrong."  Neil Gaiman, Fragile Things

2  I think she's caught between who she is and who she wants to be. 

3  "You tried to change, didn't you? Closed your mouth more, tried to be softer, prettier, less volatile, less awake...You can't make homes out of human beings. Someone should have already told you that." Warsan Shire


Do we ever really know someone completely? Can we ever really know ourselves consistently? 

Can I have your attention?


Wednesday, June 12, 2013

“Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity.” Simone Weil

. . . 

Each year at this time there is usually one commencement address that stands out among the others. This year, for me, it was Jonathan Safran Foer's Middlebury College address. You can watch the address here or read portions of it in the NY Times op-ed piece. The part that struck me most was about attention. Listen to this excerpt. 

Everyone wants his parent’s, or friend’s, or partner’s undivided attention — even if many of us, especially children, are getting used to far less. Simone Weil wrote, “Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity.” By this definition, our relationships to the world, and to one another, and to ourselves, are becoming increasingly miserly.

Most of our communication technologies began as diminished substitutes for an impossible activity. We couldn’t always see one another face to face, so the telephone made it possible to keep in touch at a distance. One is not always home, so the answering machine made a kind of interaction possible without the person being near his phone. Online communication originated as a substitute for telephonic communication, which was considered, for whatever reasons, too burdensome or inconvenient. And then texting, which facilitated yet faster, and more mobile, messaging. These inventions were not created to be improvements upon face-to-face communication, but a declension of acceptable, if diminished, substitutes for it.

But then a funny thing happened: we began to prefer the diminished substitutes. It’s easier to make a phone call than to schlep to see someone in person. Leaving a message on someone’s machine is easier than having a phone conversation — you can say what you need to say without a response; hard news is easier to leave; it’s easier to check in without becoming entangled. So we began calling when we knew no one would pick up.

Shooting off an e-mail is easier, still, because one can hide behind the absence of vocal inflection, and of course there’s no chance of accidentally catching someone. And texting is even easier, as the expectation for articulateness is further reduced, and another shell is offered to hide in. Each step “forward” has made it easier, just a little, to avoid the emotional work of being present, to convey information rather than humanity.

THE problem with accepting — with preferring — diminished substitutes is that over time, we, too, become diminished substitutes. People who become used to saying little become used to feeling little.

. . .

It's really heavy, right? Even if it's not you who are guilty of preferring diminished substitutes and giving real interactions less attention, it's our society, it's the world our children are walking into and the energy we are steeped in everyday. I think about how many times I have said, "just a minute" to my girls as I have replied to a text, typed off a quick email, or composed a caption for a picture. I am pretty conscious about putting the phone away to focus and engage, but I am a work from home mom, with kids at home a lot, and the balance of the two is extremely difficult to find. And in a hurried world where texting or communicating in the comments of a public forum are becoming the norm, it's hard not to play along. 

So how do we move ahead in a world that's connecting us together but is also pulling us apart? 

I think it has to be about balance and about valuing personal interaction. It has to be about taking the extra step to think, say, converse, and feel. We need to give attention and teach attention. We need to hold tight to our emotionality, bearing unscripted interactions that have the power to unhinge us, but also bring about moments of clarity and richness that only face to face communication can do. It's about standing guard over our time, over chance encounters, and unhurried conversations with friends or strangers. It's about paying attention. Really deeply paying attention.

Foer ends with this, "We live in a world made up more of story than stuff. We are creatures of memory more than reminders, of love more than likes. Being attentive to the needs of others might not be the point of life, but it is the work of life. It can be messy, and painful, and almost impossibly difficult. But it is not something we give. It is what we get in exchange for having to die."

I'd love to know what you think. xx

Be always coming home


Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Please bring strange things.
Please come bringing new things.
Let very old things come into your hands.
Let what you do not know come into your eyes.
Let desert sand harden your feet.
Let the arch of your feet be the mountains.
Let the paths of your fingertips be your maps
And the ways you go be the lines of your palms.
Ursula K. Leguin


for tens of years we have been kicking summer off with an annual family trip to palm springs. it's the place where the whole family - grandparents, parents, siblings, cousins, nieces, nephews come to reunite. warm days and late nights are spent talking, carousing, and catching up. luckily, a lot stays the same. luckily, a lot is always changing. these moments become deep grooves in life. we grew up here, our kids are doing the same. 

please bring strange things, new things. let the very old things come into your hands. 

so many memories are made during the freedom of summer. are there places or traditions you return to year after year? 

be always coming home. xx

loving this week


Friday, June 7, 2013

The simplicity and colors, it's the perfect, rustic summer palette. Architetural Digest Noviembre 2012

Adding a bit of lushness to my porch for summer. This porch is the perfect inspiration.
This shot of Lily Stockman's studio wall by Nicole Franzen. Super inspired by Lily's work. 
This article on Miuccia Prada in T Magazine. Actually, I loved the whole issue. 

We're off to Palm Springs with all my sisters and family for a long weekend. We meet there every year and it's something I look so forward to. Hope your weekend is lovely! xx

one for all, all for one


Wednesday, June 5, 2013

“There are only the pursued, the pursuing, the busy and the tired.”  
F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

I'll let you guess at who I am. 
Who are you?

one night


Monday, June 3, 2013

sometimes you just need to 
walk out into the night, 
into crowded streets 
to feel alive.

sometimes you just need to get into your car
without a plan 
and start driving.

sometimes you end up in a dark underground bar 
with live music & strong drinks 
that quickly wash away the busyness that's gotten between you.

sometimes, one night is all it takes to reconnect again.