lauren duke brooks, ma soeur, is "gifted", and her jewelry line doesn't suck either . . .

it's a little early to preview,

she's still developing it,

but i had to rave a bit about my sister lauren's jewelry line.

she's been working to this for years,

from bent wire and beads

to semi-precious and hand-made

to this:

22k indian gold and diamonds

the "target earrings":

i think little 'sis

may be on to something

MAJOR.

to quote victoria beckham,

'natch.

MISS GOLDEN GLOBES SMACKDOWN : connie vs. kira vs. sara

tim decided to drag out some old recipe of his

for the golden globes:

some "fried sage and frizzled leeks over salmon wrapped in phyllo dough" concoction.

so, we had to get some help eating it.

luckily, kira was back from brazil, connie from san francisco, and sara from nyc!

bravely, they volunteered to be our 

"ladies with an attitude"

for the night.

tim and i?  we opted for
"fellas that were in the mood".

 

so, we "don't just stand there, let's get to it, strike a pose, there's nothing to it . . . GLOBED"

yes.
long set-up.

little madonna punch line.

shut up.

then, there was a collective scream of terror.

we had not realized there was a tribute to horror movies in the middle of the show:

or goth coked up victorian prostitutes.

(i mean, REALLY?)

luckily, there was alcohol:

and some warm puppy breath on your lower back to calm the nerves:

LANDIS DOT COM : what i do and what i did

for those of you who haven't,
i encourage a trip to :

LANDISSMITHERS.COM

where the slave-driven tim has assembled my life's work.  literally.

from the director's reel, the photography, the agency work, the old navy work, even the interior design portfolio . . . even bloglinks.  it's all finally housed in one location.  with nifty rolling screens and players and things.

cause you can never get too much of a good thing.

(like my ego.)

and for those of you whom have already visited and lit a candle or whatever,
take the day off.

RE-GROUPING : scattered moments from early january . . .

ok, catching up on the detritus, so the memories don't escape into the ether . . .

dinner out at A.O.C. with eduardo and mac,

getting to know each other.

i think tim was three margaritas in, hence the lovely "soft focus" effect.

oooh, dinner at Mozza,

mario battali's restaurant. 

this is the "mozzarella bar".

yes.  a whole bar.  that just serves different preparations and kinds of mozzarella.

ate here with philip williams and his amazing wife joanne.

we LOVE these two.  LOVE LOVE.

phillip is an amazing art director, joanie owns a stunning jewelry gallery/store on third.

i want to be them.

um, this is the unfinished top of my new desk:

claro walnut.

dinner at eduardo's.  mac cooked.  tim and i ate. 

the most stunning sunset of the month:

aaaand, we're only halfway through january.

NYE 08 (dinner at lucques, roses, the abbey, confetti, dancing, and why i can't kick the stupid head cold)

ok, have had this head cold for two weeks.

it won't go away.  gets better.  gets worse.  gets better.

i'm not sure all the going out is helping.

but it was new year's eve.  i HAD TO GO OUT.

lucques was filled with roses and pink light,

with a "moulin rouge" celebratory menu.

we ate, drank, and reviewed our "annus horribilus/amazus"

then, off to the abbey,

entering just in time for the countdown.

Mac had obviously started before us . . .

wedgies.  eduardo a few drinks ahead of  us.

let's hope that champagne, roses, confetti, and patent shoes

are signs of the new year!

when they ask me why i think i have the cutest dogs on the planet, which they will, i will simply say : EXHIBIT A

we didn't have christmas.

not,

at least,

in the way i was raised to think of christmas.

there was no tree.

there were stargazers:

there was no unwrapping.

there was un-stuffing:

there was no snow.

or reindeer.

there was a sunset:

there was no turkey.

there was lobster.  and pomegranate seeds:

it was a bundle of made-up newness,

spur of the moment happiness.

maybe it WAS christmas,

after all.

a pit bull xmas tale : toys vs affection . . .

a little story without words,

from this christmas:

the end.

cross promoting MYSELF (something i am loathe to do) -

so today, i link you not to here,
but elsewhere,
to get you to taste some other edges of my world.

first, go here:

SAM SAFFMAN

emascul8 is my blog on fashion.  and why men shouldn't be afraid of it.
(if you want to read more, just click on the header of the blog, and you'll get to the homepage.)

then, go here:

BLUE IS YOUR COLOR

i used to write a lot of poetry.  i was pretty decent.  got published at one point, even. 
here's some of it, i upload sporadically as i stumble over pieces.

see there.

i was a poet, and you didn't know it.