Watts Towers

What is it about living in a city that makes one less curious to explore?

When I travel to other cities, whether in the U.S. or abroad, I wouldn’t dream of missing their highlights. But when it’s home, there’s always tomorrow, or a self-conscious “cheese” factor, or the comfort of routine that keeps me from pulling out my map and my camera.

I’d heard talk of Watts Towers from the very first day I arrived in L.A. It’s the story with which people juxtapose that of the Watts Riots, to illustrate how this town is complicated and surprising. The riots of 1965 were a violent manifestation of fear, a push-back against hatred, intolerance and injustice. The towers, constructed from 1921 through 1955, were an artistic expression of peace, possibility and beauty. Quite a contrast. One I wanted to see. Or so I kept telling myself. But I never got around to it.

patterns

Then, three things happened.

1. I created my Intentions list at the end of 2009 – a huge long list of random activities I dreamily professed to want to experience. Suddenly it was all on paper, in front of me.
2. Then, I made it public by posting it here – that made, and makes, me feel oh-so-much-more accountable than those thousand-and-one lists I’d always scrawled in random notebooks or the back pages of my journals. I’m no longer the only one who knows how much I sit on my ass and talk big. Still, though, it took an outside force to get me driving across town on a Sunday afternoon.
3. If the ever enthusiastic Dian hadn’t read my list, seen my intention to visit Watts Towers and spontaneously agreed to join me on my venture, I’d still probably have no idea how inspiring broken bottles can be.

Simon Rodia spent 34 years collecting broken things, the stuff others see as junk, to create a vision.

DO SOMETHING BIG.

That was his dream.

perspective

He didn’t become a millionaire. He didn’t cure polio. He didn’t advance technology.

He constructed beauty out of trash.

broken bits

He’d never trained as an artist. He was a construction worker.

He didn’t seek or gain fame (at least not in his lifetime). He had a failed marriage. His neighbors thought he was crazy, and that he was designing a hazardous blight on the landscape.

He had a day job.

vision in pieces

And every single day, for 34 years, he came home and built these towers. At night, after an exhausting day of physical labor. On the weekends, when others were going to BBQs or the beach. He hand-selected every single piece of broken bottle, chipped china, shattered glass, and discarded tile. He had no architectural drawings, sketches or plans to consult.

It was all in his head.

How’s that for commitment, for faith, for trust?

dreaming big

Do you have a dream that strong and clear?

To be honest, I’m not sure I do.

But I’m working on it. Are you?

Yes, INTERNATIONAL PILLOW FIGHT DAY.

It took place this past Saturday, in numerous cities throughout the world. I joined the fight in Pershing Square, located in downtown Los Angeles.

What an adventure!

I’ve wanted to participate in the madness since hearing about it, after the fact, last year. It simply sounded too outrageous to miss – hundreds of people showing up at a designated time, at a designated location, with a pillow (preferably feather) in hand, and prepared to get into a pillow fight to end all pillow fights with a bunch of like-minded strangers. All orchestrated via word-of-mouth.

The crowd gathers. By Jen Castle.

The power of social media at its most gloriously inane and profound.

I coerced my friend @jencastle to join me in the fray. She remembered her camera (she’s a fabulous professional photographer and had the real deal) so she’s provided the pictures here. She has her version of the story too.

I remembered the pillow.

We arrived at the square about half an hour before the fight was to start. People were already gathering – dressed in everything from pajamas, masks and Mad Hatter hats to capes, jeans and magenta tutus. Old timers displayed goggles and bandanas to protect themselves. The air was charged with anticipation.

Preparation time. By Jen Castle.

By three o’clock, the designated start time, the square was PACKED with people of all ages – a truly eclectic bunch. Jen and I moved to the very center of the crowd (how naive!). As the clock ticked down, people raised their pillows above their heads. A great cheer went up. And then…

MAYHEM.

Chaos (that's me in the middle). By Jen Castle.

A mosh pit. With feathers. Lots and lots of feathers.

Feathers can be hazardous to your health. By Jen Castle.

It was utterly exhilarating. And utterly terrifying.

We were PUMMLED from all sides, immediately lost sight of each other, and fought the good fight.

On the attack. By Jen Castle.

Then, I inhaled a handful of feathers, started suffocating, panicked, and called it quits.

I lasted five minutes.

I am an embarrassment to the League of Pillow Fighters everywhere.

***

I watched the remaining 55 minutes of the fight from the somewhat safer confines of the square’s edge, exhausted by the adrenaline rush, hacking up feathers in a vain attempt to breathe more freely, and wondering how I’d ever considered pillow fighting to be a tame, frivilous activity.

It is HARD CORE.

***

As I look back on the experience now, a few days later, I realize a few things:

1. I need to get in better shape.
2. Next year, I’m bringing a gas mask or the equivalent. And I’m remembering my camera.
3. Advil and water are as important as the pillow.
4. I’m so very glad I experienced this! And I can now cross it off my Intentions List, which is also kinda great.
5. People are crazy.
6. I like being crazy.

I’m still finding feathers about my person, by the way.

The aftermath. By Jen Castle.

If the pillow fight comes to your neck of the woods next year, will you join? Or do you prefer to keep your pillow on your bed and your fighting to the virtual or verbal kind?

By Friday, my body was screaming to my mind, DO SOMETHING! MOVE!

I looked out the window, debating my choices.

by Agnes the Red/flickr

The forecast had predicted it would rain again. The sky was dark and cloudy. I was sleep deprived; the roar of downpours had kept me up half the night. I figured I had every reason not to twitch off the couch, much less stick my neck out into the world at large.

My body’s screaming got LOUDER!

I decided to risk the dangers inherent in venturing onto local roads during inclement moments; Los Angeles drivers transform into veritable drama queens when water darkens our asphalt.

I headed to the lake.

On the way to my habitual meditative retreat from urban chaos, a large raindrop shattered onto the surface of my windshield. It immediately became a civilization of droplets. I was struck by the pattern. Then I thought, I should turn back… But it’s only a drop… Another drop fell, a smaller one.

When was the last time you were soaked by the rain?

I realized I couldn’t remember the last time that had happened to me. My heart started beating a bit faster, in anticipation. Why not embrace the possibility of an experience I usually take pains to avoid?

I decided that if the skies should open up and drench me in harmless water acid rain, I would welcome it as an adventure.

The skies held their tears.

Instead, I shed some of my own. In awe.

The LIGHT took my breath away.

It was spectacular – crisp and flat. It transformed the glories of a three-dimensional world into a fanciful pop-up book of layers – the dew-dropped grasses sharply carved out and laid flat in front of the water, in front of the trees, in front of the tower, in front of the mountain, in front of the clouds.

Everything appeared new and special.

by chrislagarto/flickr

Then the crickets exploded into symphony, clearly rejoicing in the dampened earth and the scent of life that a hard rain brings to this town. I understood. And I was suddenly reminded of something I’d forgotten while slouched on my couch, obsessed with my navel…

Nature is my god. It never fails to restore me to my purest self.

When I make that connection, all other connections are possible. And I am happy.

What do you discover when you leave the house?

by me*voila/flickr

“Why do clouds cry so much, growing happier and happier?” Pablo Neruda

It has been raining for 24 hours in Los Angeles. It doesn’t look to let up any time soon. But I know that, at some point in the future, the sun will reemerge from behind the grey clouds and shine on a land gloriously cleansed. When so much water pours into this city, it erases the dirt, grime and particles of pollution that make the air thick and the mountains nearly invisible in the distance. It eradicates the surface layer of urban destruction. And it usually weilds a bit of destructive power itself. It moves earth. It cuts and drowns young leafy things. It makes everyone slow down, or suffer the consequences. It is beautiful. And what comes after is even more so.

I want the rain to do the same for me that it does for this city. I want to be scrubbed of all the dirt, grime and pollution that fear creates in me. I want the fog of procrastination, paralysis and inaction to be eradicated. I want to be moved. I want my strengths to flourish and my weaknesses to be cut out and drowned so that more vibrant seeds can sprout. I want my mind to slow down.

I breathe in the cool, refreshing scent of the clouds’ tears. And I see happiness on the horizon.

What’s the weather like in your skies, and what does it foretell for you?

1. Visiting my niece. I adore seeing my brother and sister-in-law as well, but who is kidding who? When there’s an absolutely scrumptious almost 2-year-old running around, everyone else plays second fiddle. It’s just the way of the world. We all accept that resistance is futile. She’s talking up a storm, in a delightful mix of English and Spanish. And she slays me. With a smile, a look, a shy pose. I am a slave for her attention and affection. Thank goodness she doesn’t quite know the extent of her power over me.
   

   Sofia on a September Day

2. Seeing proof of love. Two very dear friends of mine got married this month, in a gorgeous ceremony. She looked stunning. He looked gallant. The setting was glamourous. The flowers were magnificent. The dinner was delicious. What was most remarkable about this very In Style-worthy wedding, however, was the almost tangible aura of love that hovered over the entire evening. Not just between the bride and groom. Every single couple at the event exuded happy romance – and it was mostly couples, which precludes me from having the next memorable moment of the month be of me shagging some hot friend of the family in an inappropriate location while the happy couple cut the cake. Oddly striking. All the love, that is. Not the missed sex. That seems to be par for the course at the moment, thanks for asking. But the love. So many seemingly healthy relationships in one room. Completely disconcerting. And delightful.
   

   Golden Kisses Love Heart by lynda_luv/Flickr

3. Nathan Fillion. The Fall TV Season is upon us, and I will hold off commenting about everything else on the airwaves until a later date, but I must take this opportunity to celebrate the return of Castle and, more importantly, the smokin’, charmin’ and amusin’ package that is Nathan Fillion. I must admit I was skeptical about him when he first entered my (at the time) college dorm lounge during the late lunch hour, however many years ago. But he won me over when he turned all SciFi cowboy for Joss Whedon, and I now have carved out a permanent little place in my cold, cold heart and reserved it for all things NF. After all, there is nothing sexier than a man who makes me laugh, and who can laugh at himself. Who cares if it’s scripted.
   

   Copyright of Unidentified Funding Network/Studio

   Yum, right?

What excitement did September hold for you? I certainly hope it was pleasurable as well. Do tell!

1. Started your own blog. Obviously. You are reading it now.
2. Slept under the stars. Not yet without a tent or a roof between me and randomly falling objects.
3. Played in a band. I still have fantasies about being in a rock band, but since the only instrument I learned to play with any conviction was the piano and my voice is of the quality that would make even Paula cringe, I’m not quite sure how this one will manifest… Maybe Rock Band? I have yet to play it.
4. Visited Hawaii. Twice. Oahu and the Big Island of Hawai’i.
5. Watched a meteor shower.
6. Given more than I can afford to charity. Frequently. I’m a sucker for a sad story.
7. Been to Disneyland. I detest amusement parks. Too many little fiends children who should be killed have had too much sugar.
8. Climbed a mountain. Grew up in Colorado. My sweat has dripped on plenty of 14ers.
9. Held a praying mantis. I am willing to hold something that looks like a leaf. But I can’t promise I won’t crush it while it is in my hand.
10. Sang a solo. It was not a good thing. See #3 regarding my vocal talents.
11. Bungee Jumped. Have been wanting to do this for years, just haven’t gotten around to it yet.
12. Visited Paris. A few times. J’aime le Paris.
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea.
14. Taught myself an art from scratch.
15. Adopted a child. My impulse would be to cross this one out, but I’m not entirely convinced I won’t someday want to give a needy child a loving home.
16. Had food poisoning. I’ve blocked out the details.
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty. A hell of a lot of stairs.
18. Grown my own vegetables. Haven’t played in a vegetable garden since I was a child, but I would love to have some tomato plants of my own next time I have a yard.
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France. She is very small. And she has a weird look on her face.
20. Slept on an overnight train. Yep. Don’t recommend it. I woke up to find myself being robbed.
21. Had a pillow fight.
22. Hitchhiked. Numerous times. Only in Europe. Great way to meet guys.
23. Taken a sick day when I wasn’t ill.
24. Built a snow fort. Best part of a blizzard. Well, that and making snow angels.
25. Held a lamb. I’ve petted one though.
26. Gone skinny dipping.
27. Run a marathon. I won’t cross this one off. If I ever end up doing this, however, hell will have frozen over. I’m just saying.
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice. Opted out of the singing though.
29. Seen a total eclipse.
30. Watched a sunrise and a sunset. I try to watch the sunset every day. Never disappoints. Sunrises usually happen a bit too early for me these days.
31. Hit a home run. I can barely hit the ball much less make it go any distance, but there’s always the chance of experiencing that one perfect moment when the universe is in synch.
32. Been on a cruise. This would not be a bad way to spend my 110s.
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person. I’ve seen Iguacu Falls, though. Pretty damn awesome.
34. Visited the birthplace of my ancestors. Mostly. I’m a mutt, so there are a lot of places to visit. Ireland’s the only one left, though, and I may be able to check that off the list this very year. Will let you know.
35. Seen an Amish community. Did not see Kelly McGillis once.
36. Taught myself a new language. Portuguese. And smidgens of a few others.
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied.
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person.
39. Gone rock climbing.
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David in person. A week before some crazy chopped off the dude’s toe.
41. Sung karaoke. As awful as you can imagine.
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt. A big thank you to my parents for loading us into the car every summer for road trips across the lower 48.
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant. No, but look forward to doing that once #37 is met.
44. Visited Africa. Planned a trip to Egypt but then we bombed Baghdad, the first time, so it was scrapped. Many African countries are on my Must See list.
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight. I live in Southern California. It would be criminal of me not to have done this many, many times.
46. Been transported in an ambulance. I passed out in a Baja Fresh and wouldn’t wake up. I was very thirsty. The uniformed boys were very nice once I became coherent but were mean and wouldn’t let me sleep at first. Not the smoothest ride ever.
47. Had my portrait painted.
48. Gone deep sea fishing. Given how I responded to night fishing, this is not going to happen in the near future.
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person. That Michael dude knows how to draw.
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris. Nice, but there are many, many other things I’d rather spend my time doing in Paris.
51. Gone scuba diving and snorkeling. Love snorkeling. Have done it in Hawaii and Indonesia. Scuba diving is still very much on my list of things to do.
52. Kissed in the rain. Delightful if done right. If done wrong, dump the dude. Water up the nose is not romantic.
53. Played in the mud.
54. Gone to a drive-in theatre.
55. Been in a movie.
56. Visited the Great Wall of China.
57. Started a business.
58. Taken a martial arts class. Someday, I will know how to crush your eyeballs, gonads, and kidneys all at the same time. Hear me roar!
59. Visited Russia. I must increase my tolerance for vodka.
60. Served at a soup kitchen. Every Thanksgiving I plan to do this but then get distracted by a large table of overflowing food served by friends or family. I may be a bad person.
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies. I have bought plenty, though. Shouldn’t that count?
62. Gone whale watching. I keep forgetting, and then they are gone.
63. Got flowers for no reason. Always a pleasure.
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma. Blood.
65. Gone sky diving. Free fall is amazing. The rest of it, not my thing.
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp. A few of them. Fucking depressing.
67. Bounced a check. Just last week, thank you very much.
68. Flown in a helicopter.
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy. I am very sentimental.
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial.
71. Eaten caviar. Salty. Would rather eat sushi.
72. Pieced a quilt. Yep, I made a few quilts using the log cabin pattern. I was in an Arts & Crafts phase. It has passed.
73. Stood in Times Square.
74. Toured the Everglades. We should really stop destroying them.
75. Been fired from a job. I really, really suck as a waitress.
76. Seen the Changing of the Guard in London. Would not want that job.
77. Broken a bone. Collar bone. Jewish camp. Touch football. Don’t like religion.
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle. See #22.
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person. Successfully puked blueberry muffin over the side of it too. How many folks can say that, hum?
80. Published a book. Open for bids and proposal ideas.
81. Visited the Vatican.
82. Bought a brand new car. Just paid it off last year – Boo-Ya!
83. Walked in Jerusalem. Look forward to doing that when there’s a peace settlement.
84. Had my picture in the newspaper.
85. Read the entire Bible. Heard there are some interesting horror stories.
86. Visited the White House. Smelled too much like the previous night’s gin to get the private tour but loved getting frisked by the Secret Service.
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating. Someday, I WILL eat a cricket. I’ve heard they taste like chicken.
88. Had chickenpox. Very mild case, thank god. I am not kind when I am sick.
89. Saved someone’s life.
90. Sat on a jury.
91. Met someone famous. I live in LA and work in the Entertainment Industry for god’s sake.
92. Joined a book club. Love it. Only chance I have any more to read books.
93. Lost a loved one. Funerals are very strange affaires.
94. Had a baby.
95. Seen the Alamo in person. It’s a fort.
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake. Never even occurred to me to do this. Now, it has.
97. Been involved in a law suit. I won.
98. Owned a cell phone. I think this item is hear to make people feel good about themselves even if they’ve done nothing with their lives.
99. Been stung by a bee. I prefer butterflies.
100. Read an entire book in one day. One of the best ways to spend a rainy day. Must be done in bed or at least under a very comfy blanket. Preferably while one is still in one’s pajamas.

February is the shortest month of the year, and there’s a Holiday Weekend stuck in there, so you’d think it would be the busiest and best month too. Unfortunately, February is also the rainiest month, at least in Southern California, and prolonged rain makes me go stark raving mad. Clinically. Then, there’s that little economic problem to deal with. Unless you were on a cruise to Antarctica for the past 28 days, you already know the Stock Market decided to commit seppuku, and the Dow is down 11.72% for the month. Don’t you wish you’d spent February getting sea sick and taking pictures of penguins? So, this month, perhaps more than any other, it is vital for me to highlight some moments that brought me pleasure.

1. New Glasses. I was one of those kids who sported braces and fish-eye glasses, which then morphed into very classy, graduated-shading, bug-eyed lens, and finally to the social status-reviving freedom of contacts. When I got Lasik about 10 years ago, it was the coolest thing ever. I could see the alarm clock from the bed. I could recognize people on the street before I walked past them. I could distinguish the difference between dolphins and sharks prior to inducing a panic attack. So, when my Optometrist recently recommended that I get myself some prescription lens for night driving and movie viewing, you’d think I’d feel dismay. Instead, I got super excited. I successfully ignored the fact that this purchase would be an expense for which I hadn’t budgeted, and that the need for lens might be construed as indicative of my advancing age. Instead, I saw this as the perfect opportunity to play dress up. Since I don’t have to wear them all the time, these new glasses get to be an accessory… I decided to go with the sexy geek look. It works for me. And, yes, I can see the traffic at night now too. Lots of cars out there.
2. Scrabble with Dad. My pops made an appearance in Hollywood to spend some quality time with me. A short but sweet visit. And, as usual, he beat the pants off me at Scrabble. I rarely win the damn thing – for which I convincingly blame bad luck letter draws – but I still love this word game. So much, in fact, that if Scrabbulous was still around, you might find me on FB more often. Those cute little wooden squares are simply irresistible.
3. Duncan Sheik. If you’ve heard his music, and listened to the lyrics, you’ll know this munchkin of a man is clearly the love child of David Lynch and Tim Burton. The dude goes to some seriously dark and twisted places, surrounded by beautiful melodies. His latest concept album, Whisper House, is about a little boy who is dumped at a lighthouse to be terrorized by ghosts after his father dies and his mother has a breakdown. Cool shit. He played at the Echoplex in Los Angeles recently. I won tickets to the show – how fantastic is that! – from KCRW, my fave music dispensary and the sponsoring radio station. Damn, but there’s not much better than listening to good music, live, with a Newcastle in hand, and money still in your pocket.
4. Sycamore Cove. About 15 miles north of Malibu on the PCH, this pristine beach is just far enough away that I’d never visited it before. A travesty! On the late February day I finally went, dolphins frolicked just outside the break, huge pieces of driftwood made me ache for a camera, and only five other people were visible along the entire stretch of sand. Great hiking trails were waiting for us on the other side of the road, in Point Mugu State Park, but I’ll be going back to get my toes wet.
5. Abandoning Arrowhead. This may seem like a random event to highlight as particularly pleasurable, but it’s sort of a big deal for me. You see, I’ve had Arrowhead Water delivered to my house for years now. There is a myth in Los Angeles that the tap water will kill you, or at least make you look your age. Increasingly, however, I’ve been wanting to do my part to curb global warming, etc., and it’s been harder and harder to ignore the facts about how much damage the bottled water industry creates. But I’m a creature of habit. And I prefer to drink my water out of bottles – yes, I know Freud would have a field day with me but, really, the bottle issue is only the tip of the iceberg. So I’ve been very reluctant to try anything else. In addition, the last time I got a bee in my bonnet about all this, I went out and bought a Brita Filter for my faucet and the damn thing didn’t fit. But the Arrowhead Mountain Spring Water Company did for me what I could not do for myself. They screwed up on two consecutive deliveries. So I kicked them to the curb, got myself a Brita Pitcher, and crossed one more expense off my “potentially expendable” list. Yippee for me!

As I said, it’s a short month. It’s fitting, then, that this be a short list. Many other truly pleasurable things happened this month. And the torrential rain finally stopped. Honestly, looking back, I wouldn’t have wanted the last 28 days any other way than the way I got them.

So that’s my February. How was yours?

Convertible Tote by Harveys

For the record, I love bags. I’m even a fan of seat belts. But wouldn’t this idea have been so much better if the bags were actually made of recycled seat belts? So, how pleased do you think I was when I discovered Harveys actually offers the Treecycle line of, yep, recycled seatbelt bags? Yippee. I can now officially jump on the bandwagon.

Treecycle Messenger by Harveys

To be honest, the bags are so damn cute, I’d already convinced myself that the company’s use of new seat belts could be the only thing preventing seat belt manufacturers from filing Chapter 11 now that the auto industry is in the toilet. The headline could be: Once Again Hollywood Saves the Day!

Baseman VENISON by Harveys

Alas, no. The creators of the seatbelt bag are not the only industrious souls to find seat belts strangely alluring out of context, or to devise ways of sharing their obsession with the easily-converted masses. Behold.

The hammock you wish you had:

Sling by Ting London

The perfect arm chair, for that perfect person over whom you’re surreptitiously drooling to lounge in, perfectly, while sipping a perfectly shaken Martini:

By Nuttapong Charoenkitivarakorn

The Brangelina version of your grandmother’s backyard bench:

By Peter Danko

The throw pillow you won’t really want to throw, from dead stock and recycled seat belts:

By Ting London

And, oh dear… Okay, so I’m breaking the rules a bit with this last one, but this is absolutely, hands down, the sexiest flooring on the market, made of recycled leather belts, and constitutes one of only three purposes for which to have a belt in your house:

Custom Designed by Ting London

Close enough to seat belts, right? And environmentally friendly. The cows are already long dead.

So, screw Heroes. Seat belts will save the world. What else do you think will?

Most of the country is suffering through a record-breaking, bloody-cold winter. Even those of us lucky enough to live in a more amenable climate like Los Angeles have found ourselves shivering from time to time this year. But, this being tinsel town, we won’t abandon fashion for warmth. Luckily, I have discovered the perfect way to both stay warm and dazzle the masses. This Pleasure Find is for the ladies, wherever they may be, and the gents who love them…

Lady Godiva by bebaroque

Bebaroque stockings, tights, and leggings are designed and crafted by two fabulously hip Scottish women.

Miss Godiva by bebaroque

Anyone who has been to Edinburgh in January can attest to the fact that Scottish women know cold weather, and how to slog through it stylishly, so you are in good hands with Mhairi McNicol and Chloe Patience. Besides, they won the Scottish Accessory Designer of the Year award and that’s no mean feat.

Tattoo Me by bebaroque

Hand embroidery, beading, Swarovski crystals, and original print designs embellish these little gems. Whether you want to simply flash a well-shaped calf or go for a fully tattooed gam, bebaroque legwear styles add a dash of sensuous, playful pleasure to the mix.

Lady Godiva by bebaroque

Just a wee warning as you fall in love with these creations: they are not like your mama’s 4-dollar Leggs, but more like those pre-war silk stockings women used to covet more than chocolate. That is to say, they are a luxury item. But you can’t put a price on fashion, right?

By Heath Ceramics

This sweet little red vase, from Heath Ceramics’ 2008 Limited Edition Winter Collection, holds a single bud, or perhaps a few of the thin-stemmed variety, beautifully. It makes a statement in any room, bringing a splash of color to your surroundings and a smile to your face. I just bought one of my very own, and have placed it on my kitchen table to hold an almost perfect white rose.

And for those who know nothing about Heath Ceramics, let me tell you a quick story. The company is based in Sausalito, California, but, happily, they just opened a gorgeous, minimalist showroom in Los Angeles. Edith Heath started the company in the mid-1940′s and, while she is gone and the company is now owned by someone else, they still make pottery the old-fashioned way. For that alone, they get a gold star.

So, what flower will you place in yours?