that’s what friends are for (lesson in survival).

December 3, 2009 7:48 pm ⋅ 4 Comments ⋅
so i have been plundering a lot. at thrift stores, of course, but also into my own psyche. oy vey. joni mitchell says, ‘“when you dig down deep, you lose good sleep and it makes you heavy company”. yeah. totes joni. i have been digging down deep with regard to many areas of myself, my life, my decisions, my beliefs, my world, my legacy, who i am, who i am becoming, where i’ve been, what i know and much more importantly, what i don’t know. heavy company. who do i think i am, fucking socrates? my oldest and dearest friend sent me an email last night about my blog. i have known brooke for longer than i have known any friend…since jr. high. 7th grade. she transferred in from colorado and we became the best of friends. we would visit each other whilst in school, she at Colorado State and I at Florida. we’ve seen much together: loss, love, families, marriage, divorce, all of it. this is, in part, what she wrote to me: “There is this one thing that kept occurring to me as I was reading your blog- As long as I’ve known you–let’s see 26 years–you have always been searching. Whether it was for a man, your happiness, your knowledge, your spiritual path, your family, etc. It has been a theme in your life. Interesting. I’m not sure what you will do with that information, maybe one day you might find something/someone you can TRUST and then the search will be over.”
hmmm.
i hope my search is never over though. it’s why i believe we are all here and what keeps me going. back to thrift stores. back to old friends. back to myself. in search of everything. that’s me.

©littlebrownbutterfly

Posted in: lessons, life,

sarah and me (polyester bride).

November 27, 2009 8:41 pm ⋅ 1 Comment ⋅
my grandmother sarah had the best polyester nightgowns. a whole collection of them from the 60’s and 70’s. i spent each summer of my youth in ft lauderdale with her. every night would be the same: i would go into her top drawer and excitedly search each slippery, shiny nightgown for exactly the one i wanted to wear to bed. it would vary. sometimes, i’d go with a short little nightie with matching robe and sometimes a longer version, sans robe. it was our little bedtime routine, she and i. i’d try them on as she gathered her pink hair nets that she wore EVERY night to protect her hairdo…but that is another blog and i digress as i often do. these nightgowns were amazing…so grown up! too big for me, yes. but they belonged to my grandma sarah and i loved them. you see, my grandma sarah was everything to me. every thing. the sweetest person i have ever met on earth, she was. i always search for polyester nighties while thrifting. an ode to her, to me, to those days of my youth spent without care in ft lauderdale, florida. how easy it was. i have my own little collection of vintage nighties now, but none as special as the ones she had. i was lucky enough to be holding my grandmothers hand as she died, recounting to her softly and slowly little polyester memories like these as she moved on to a different place. i cannot tell you how much i miss her. no words. my heart aches every day for her. i am lucky lucky lucky to have known such a person in my life. sarah helen simmons: you are with me still, this i know.
©littlebrownbutterfly
Posted in: lessons, life,

the future hides and the past just slides…

November 18, 2009 4:15 pm ⋅ 4 Comments ⋅

so… right now whilst on this planet earth, i happen to reside in austin, texas. it’s home to  lots of great stuff, but for me the most impressive thing it has going for it is the television show austin city limits. i grew up watching this show. as a kid, i would stumble upon it randomly and be so in AWE of it. i never knew what time or what channel. i’d just find it, shimmering like a diamond amongst the rubble of the love boat and fantasy island. i had never seen music so raw, so…alive. with the skyline in the background…were they really outside? (no.) on monday i went to my third taping. the avett (AY vit) brothers. i was very excited to see these guys because a few nights earlier during my Emotional Breakdown Fueled By Love, i heard the song, “i and love and you” and it, you know, helped me….”one foot in and one foot back but it don’t pay to live like that..”. super excellent song-writing. and i know a thing or two about that, thank you kindly. the last artist i saw at an austin city limits taping was jackson browne. a couple of years ago. with karen. such a different experience this time. why? because i am different. what i am looking for to help me through shit isn’t always “out there somewhere”, this is what i am learning.  yeah, so anyway, jackson has always had the power with song to heal my wounds, cure my ills, make me feel like it would all be alright. i’d take daddy’s chevrolet pickup and just drive and drive and drive and sing along with jackson, duets and harmonies separated by time and space–but still a song. i started listening to him when i was 12 or 13 and i will tell you that his music changed me, became part of my soul. got me through a lot. i had the good fortune of knowing jackson when i lived in LA. super great dude. the avett brothers were good, don’t get me wrong. but during the show, i started to feel…a little preached to. like: their songs were kinda preach-y. i didn’t get healed the same way that jackson can heal. and this is just a time thing; i’ve known jackson longer. i’ve collected the feelings from his songs, made them into what i was/am going through and now they reside inside of me. what can i say? i’m a sucker for love and a good tune. and a good drive that takes me absolutely nowhere.

©littlebrownbutterfly

Posted in: lessons, life,

November 18, 2009 4:05 pm ⋅ Leave a Comment ⋅

Posted in: lessons, life,

through it. (ugh).

November 13, 2009 9:03 pm ⋅ 2 Comments ⋅
 
i’ve had a bad week. really bad. totally shitty. changes. changing. transition. hurt. letting go. the only way through it is through it. my best friend in my life is going through some big life changes, too. bonnie. she turns 40 on monday. i, in january. could this monumental age bring about the shift that is occurring in both of our lives? possibly. bonnie lives in my former town, LA. great thrifting there. about a week ago, she scored a rad 60’s bookshelf from Out of the Closet, a thrift store charity that donates money to people living with AIDS. knowing how hardcore i am about great finds, she took a picture of it and sent it to me. low, slanted shelves, metal feet. she needed it because she has recently moved into her Very Own Place and was looking for something on which to store her books, etc. i have lots of books. the shelves that have held them since december (when i bought my house) are your standard bookshelves, heavy, dark wood, square rather than streamlined. heavy. i’ve been meaning to get rid of them and get something lighter in their place, but just have not done it. huh. imagine that. knowing that i need to do something and not doing it. last night, i was at one of my fave stomping grounds…a goodwill located in the ritzy-er part of town. my eyes, puffy from having cried all day searched aimlessly, looking at everything and seeing nothing. without direction and for the fourth time, i circled the store. then i saw it: the low 60’s bookshelf. slanted shelves, low, metal feet….could it be? no…could it? $4.99. i picked it up without a second thought, carried it to the cash register and it was mine. i called bonnie. oh my god. i just bought this…oh f*ck it, i’m sending you a picture. i did. same EXACT bookcase that she bought in LA. i went home and immediately cleared out the books from the old, heavy shelves, struggled to get them out into the garage, their weight and cumbersome nature barely making it possible for me to move them. but i did. i managed. it was hard, but i did it. in tears. i am unsure today what the significance is of bonnie and i both finding exactly the same bookcase in two cities separated by 2000 miles. i am unsure of so many things right at this red-hot second. but i do know that she needed that awesome little shelf to fit her new life, her new space. i found the exact one when i was desperate for a sign, for SOMEthing to show me the way. maybe my tears are not in vain. maybe all this hurt is leading me to something better, something lighter and less heavy. the weight has been exhausting. maybe i’ll continue to be able to see the good through these tears and maybe, just maybe, the universe will lead me to exactly what i need.
(note: picture one is bonnie’s shelf and picture two is mine-)

© littlebrownbutterfly
Posted in: lessons, life,

November 13, 2009 8:42 pm ⋅ Leave a Comment ⋅
Posted in: lessons, life,

made for walking.

November 10, 2009 2:32 am ⋅ 7 Comments ⋅

i see a lot of really cool stuff when i thrift. i can’t buy it all. which sucks. eventually i want to get to a point where i can sell all of the groovy, wonderful things i find through an online store such as ebay or even through this blog, but, alas, the time is not right for that just yet. SO, yesterday i found an extraordinary pair of boots. zodiac. ankle boots. slouch-y. heel, but not so high that they could not be considered for “everyday” wear. $19.99. now THIS particular thrift store has 1/2 off sales, depending on the color of the price tag. Blue, pink, white, yellow tags all on sale—all 1/2 off—but only on certain weeks. the yellow tags were on sale yesterday and my rad zodiac boots were tagged pink…SO…i let them go. i walked away. did i mention they were actually my size? a 9? yes, yes they were. experienced thrifters know that really good, really awesome vintage boots are hard to find above a size 7.5. so you see, it was kind of a big deal for me to turn my back on them. but i am learning that i have to do this occasionally, uh, no, hmmm, er, uh, yeah…VERY often in my life. very often as of late. to keep my sanity. take thoughts for example. we all have random thoughts that pop into our head out of nowhere. negative ones, positive ones…but if you’re anything like me, it’s the negatron ones that ruin your day/hour/minute/second/life. they are hard to stop. one begets another and another and another until…my existence has been reduced to a complete and utter farce.  the simplest questions i thought i had figured out become the truths on which i base everything else. um…counterfuckingproductive, okay? not seeing the forest for the trees. it’s ridiculous. i am learning to ‘turn my back’ on these shitty thoughts. walk away renee. let them go. get into the flow of life. stop going against the current. oh. my. god. it is taking me so much practice, so much patience. i am no master yet. i feel ill-prepared some days to take on this constant challenge of letting go; life is a big ‘ol let go though, is it not? so when walking away from the zodiac boots, the 60’s haegar planter, the cute pearl snap shirt, a crappy thought—whatever the the ‘IT’ may be, i have to know that sometimes it’s just about the looking, the seeing, not necessarily about the owning. i don’t own those groovster boots. i let ‘em go. i’ve let a lot go lately. and i know that it’s all a part of what i am learning about the bigger picture that i am slowly creating. my own little masterpiece, me.

whew. bye bye boots.
© littlebrownbutterfly

Posted in: lessons, life,

people who need people.

November 6, 2009 10:05 pm ⋅ 3 Comments ⋅

it’s a funny thing, thrifting. the variety of people that i see in the thrift stores, especially. i think one of the reasons i like this second job, this habit, this passion, if you will, is because it makes me feel…in touch with those salt of the earth peeps. we are all looking for different things, but we all looking for something: me, cool mid-century modern pieces. steelcase. mccoy. lane. others search for clothes at bargain prices. cheap patio furniture. shoes. i see a different kind of person in each store i thrift. mexican families with lots ‘o kids. hipsters. old women. old men. a random assortment of office workers looking to escape the monotony of a boring desk job on their lunch hour. i like them all. they make me feel more…human. like them. not like a white, tight-ass, upper middle-class, college-educated jerkoff. thrifting humanizes me. i talk to everyone. the managers have become my friends. i hug them. i bring them food sometimes. i know. it’s really my own little make-believe, but oh-so-real-world. in the south where i am from, racism runs rampant. mexican, black, muslim, underprivileged…these are big strikes against you. and your importance on this earth is greatly diminished in many of the eyes that glare upon you. even now, even still-yes. born that way? too bad. i never liked it. it never felt good to me. as a kid, i had a really, really good friend named andy (we have recently reconnected on….you guessed it! facespace!). andy was black. andy was awesome. but i caught a lot of shit for being his friend. football coaches daughter (me) hanging with a black kid? but i didn’t care. andy made me laugh. he was kind to me. his family was sweet. i think my friendship with andy made me realize early, early on that i was…er, very different than the people i grew up around. they cared about what other people thought and ultimately, i did not. i made my own decisions about the company i kept even as an 11-year-old. black, white, yellow, purple, green. i’m still this way to the astonishment of many of my friends (WHY are you friends with her/him, lisa?). the reason, i guess, is because i try to look for the good. the good stuff in people. so when i thrift, i feel a kinship of sorts with others who maybe come from a different perspective/place/country/social demographic than i do; how else would i ever get to see them, befriend them and them me? i think we hole up and get comfortable in our little paradigms/mindsets and i think this is not so good. we are all the same. looking for different things maybe, but all the same inside. you want newer Calphalon cookware and i’m looking for vintage flame orange Le Crueset…and somewhere out there exists something all of us can use.

© littlebrownbutterfly

Posted in: lessons, life,

arts. crafts. gross.

November 3, 2009 3:45 pm ⋅ 9 Comments ⋅

paint by numbers fascinate me. i see them and they look so simple. so simple to do, so simply done. i picked one up today for $3, but i gave the guy $5, because it’s a catholic charity thrift store and because there was some lady in front of me taking too long and i had to GO. i am not a painter. not really an artist either. certain people have pointed this out to me. “YOU’RE not an artist”. it’s insulting, yes. but also true. i did not like art class. i colored outside the lines. did not like crafty “projects” as part of homework assignments. i don’t do them with my son, either. i know some moms relish in this. good for them. as for me, i am tired of pretending. i can’t draw, i can’t paint. i can’t sew. i can’t do one goddamn crafty thing. you’re right; i’m NOT an artist. when i lived in LA and was acting (but not really acting because the acting gigs came few and far between for me) it was the same story. “you’re and ACtor? well, what are you ACting in”? the presumptive tone meaning this: if you aren’t in any sitcom or doing commercials on a regular basis, then you are just a big fat loser asshole nobody and NOT an ACtor. my LA friends will understand and will know exACtly what i am talking about. ugh. i hated it so much. i never felt good enough. i would go into an audition with 30 other girls that looked just like me and be mortified. and say some bullshit lines that i had to make sound the right way. can you, try it, um, this way, lisa? no. no i can’t make it how you want it to sound.  and no, i cannot draw a fucking fruit portrait and then do a cross-stitched, knitted rendering of it and sew it into a skirt/make it into a pillow.
i’m a writer, thank you.

i finally accept this about myself. feels alright.

© littlebrownbutterfly

Posted in: lessons, life,

(an aside).

November 2, 2009 2:01 am ⋅ 5 Comments ⋅

dear current and future readers: i want to clarify a couple of things. about me. my outlook. i am a grateful person. i believe in the inherent good that i think really, really exists within all people. ok, so i have been down lately. been sad. been depressed. this blog started as the logical progression for me to work out some stuff, form my own creative outlet, write as an artistic expression and explore things, try to answer some big-ass questions. but make no mistake: as shitty as i feel sometimes about life and love and money and the seemingly unanswerable question, “What Does This All Mean”, etc., i am blessed. i’m kinda big into spirituality. some people probably don’t know this about me. i converted to Catholicism when i was 16. it was a big deal. i studied relentlessly. took classes. read a lot. took two years of classes at the UJ in california. studied lots ‘n lots of the kabbalah. other things, too. the thing is, i am still on that search. for me religion is a touchy subject. i grew up in the bible belt and deep deep south. kkk and shit down there. serious hate. gross. i may not crave religion, but i crave meaningful spirituality.  i have started on a new path toward my spiritual endeavor. a path well-suited to me now. the glove that fits. i feel good about it. closer. you know, to some thing that is greater than me. anyway, i strive to be nice to everyone i meet, to be an honest person, to do well at my job, to be kind. all that stuff. my blog may be about questions and longings and the stuff melancholia is made, but i am trudging the road of happy destiny and that is really the point. and i just wanted to mention it.

the blue refrigerator pyrex container was my sweet thrift-store find yesterday. a little thing? yes. a materialistic item? yes. but it is the little things that count, you know. every single little one of them.

© littlebrownbutterfly

Posted in: lessons, life,