danapop

This time of year my husband goes Clark Griswold crazy for about five weeks. From roughly Thanksgiving to the first of January-ish the exterior of our house looks like it’s on fire, and the interior has more greenery than a vegetarian’s dinner plate. In other words, decorating for Christmas is on like Donkey Kong. Normally this fuss stresses me out, but through the years we’ve managed to compromise a bit—he’ll curb the excitement and I’ll wean myself from my freak out level regarding the Santa and snowflake knickknacks taking over every room.

One thing I do enjoy this time of year is holiday films. There is something about cozying up on the couch and watching movies with someone else’s dysfunction. Here’s my list of holiday movies that always make the rounds. Side note–refer back to my Turkey Tension Playlist circa 2008 if you think watching “Love Actually” in front of the in-laws is a good idea.

I saw Nigella Lawson on book tour last year touting her holiday cookbook, Nigella Christmas. She gave a fantastic history lesson about medieval times and the tradition of glowing lights (err lanterns) lining the exterior of houses, making it easier for loved ones to find their way, despite the frigid weather and blackness of night. Those lights–warm and comforting, beaconing family and friends inside.

That story is so fitting because I just got back from spending the holiday in my hometown of Leavenworth, Kansas, just outside of Kansas City. One thing I love the most about KC is the plaza lighting ceremony, an annual event Thanksgiving night, marking the outdoor district open for the shopping season. That one night sums up what Kansas City means to me, it’s about family and friends and being bundled up and, as Nigella’s history lesson proved, one seeped in tradition.

But, not many people outside of Kansas City know about it, or other events similar to it for that matter. These iconic events that define a city, specific to a certain time and place; this country is full of them. Here are my picks for some of the lesser-known iconic events that sum up a time and space.

International Balloon Fiesta—Albuquerque, New Mexico

Texas State Fair—Dallas, Texas

Head of the Charles Regatta—Boston, Massachusetts

St. Patrick’s Day—Savannah, Georgia

Fashion Week—New York City, New York

Ragbrai—Various Iowa Locations

It’s time for the annual Thanksgiving playlist that’s often served with sides of tension and drama. This year, I’m bucking tradition and pairing it only with gratefulness–that’s the point of Thanksgiving, yes? I’m grateful for the hardest year I’ve had in about a decade, yet the most rewarding, by far.

The biggies–my mom’s through chemo and a stem cell transplant; my husband is happily employed. Last fall, I felt like I had a brick tied to my ankles and I was drowning in a gigantic ocean, scared of the unknown horizon ahead. I’m thankful for the support of dear friends and family who stood by us through the poorer and sickness parts. Some years aren’t exactly bottles of bubbly-worthy, but here’s a toast to the days that actually are. These tunes remind me of that and I’m publishing with ample time to get the iPod all loaded with turkey dinner party mood music.

Marchin On by OneRepublic (With the risk of sounding like Ricky Martin taping a PSA, it does get better. Time does eventually heal and sometimes you just have to tie the boots a bit tighter, hunker down, and drudge through it).

Revelry by Kings of Leon (During my underage tippler stage a.k.a. high school, the best parties of the year happened Thanksgiving night. Here’s to all the revelry of our youth and perhaps recreating some debauchery with old friends).

Home by Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros (I like the sentiment behind this one, basically home is wherever you are and whom you’re with. Here’s to home).

Thinking About You by Radiohead (This will always be one of my favorite Radiohead songs of all time. Period).

Sweet Disposition by The Temper Trap (This is one of those songs that will not leave my head).

Teardrop by Massive Attack (Nothing like a good cry. I think I’ve released more tears this year than the last five combined. Plus, this song always reminds me of meeting my husband who was a huge Massive Attack fan while we were dating).

Dog Days Are Over by Florence and the Machine (I drank the Kool-Aid the second I saw the Eat Pray Love trailer. No matter if I’m running, writing, or driving, this song gets a repeat play).

Such Great Heights by The Postal Service (I like their version {the original} the best. The Iron & Wine and The Shins’s attempts are too emo. This one’s got a good beat).

Let it Be Me by Ray LaMontagne (You know when you smell something like a bottle of shampoo {coconut scents remind me of summer} or drink say cherry cider and think, this is what fall tastes like {maybe this is just me}? Well, this is what sadness sounds like. His voice and this song pretty much sum up the tougher parts of this past year).

Maybe Not by Cat Power (Because of a writing project I’ve been working on this past year, I’m buried in Clermont Lounge tid-bits … did you know Cat Power’s first song ever was performed there? It was, and according to the owners she barely made it on stage because of nerves and they jokingly describe her as a scared kitten. Meow).

Falling Slowly by The Swell Season (I’m absolutely obsessed with this band lately).

Heartbeats by Jose Gonzalez (Here’s hoping for new tiny heartbeats in 2011…).

Twice if You’re Lucky by Crowded House (I love that these guys are making music again).

Our Swords by Band of Horses (This song reminds me that it’s good to get out of your head … sometimes it is just nonsense that we create up there. Less thinking, more living. And that folks is why therapists make the big bucks).

Umbrella by Rihanna featuring Jay-Z (I’d be a bad Aunt if I didn’t include a track for my nephew to jam out to … um-brella … ella … ella. I might even bring a prop. On a serious note, it’s not a bad idea to have someone by your side when it’s pouring out, not just when it’s sunny {metaphorically speaking, of course}).

Skinny Love by Bon Iver (This is not the holiday for skinny jeans. Spanx won’t help you either).

Try a Little Tenderness by Otis Redding (I’ll be thinking of our dog who will be boarded while we’re in Kansas; he was named after the one and only from Macon, Georgia. And this tune works well as a proper sing-a-long during dish duty).

Hotel Song by Regina Spektor (While we’re hoping for less tension, never rule out alternate sleeping arrangements. Always have a Plan B. And this one is a fun one for mistaken lyrics, she really is saying, a little bag of cocaine. Easy there, tiger).

Time to Pretend by MGMT (I’m in love with the opening lyrics of this song, I’m feeling rough, I’m feeling raw, I’m in the prime of my life).

Dynamite by Taio Cruz (This year, I really want to see my accountant brother dance. Pardon me, I want to see him, rock this club and light it up like it’s dynamite).

Carrot Cake and Wine by Stereophonics (That’s what life’s all about, isn’t it? Finding our own quiet space to enjoy a slice and a sip of whatever suits your fancy? Sidenote–I’m pretty sure this isn’t really what this song means, but it’s my loose interpretation).

Crossfire by Brandon Flowers (While our family has weeded through a lot of drama this year, we’re still human, and it doesn’t really count as a true Hazels get-together without at least one blowup fight and an eff-you bomb being dropped).

Fruitcakes by Jimmy Buffett (This song will forever remind me of my father—he loved it and it truly does sum up his personality, particularly the beginning rant where Buffett gets on a soapbox about Junior Mints at the movies and twelve-pound Nestlé’s Crunch bars. Also, it’s an incredibly long-winded tune, coming in at about seven minutes … my dad would like that he got so much airtime).

Sleepyhead by Passion Pit (Home for the holidays is not the best time to catch up on sleep especially when there are children under the age of four involved).

These are the Days by Van Morrison (It’s not a decent playlist without a little boozy Irish influence … Irish Car Bomb intermission).

I’m Yours by Jason Mraz (After my mom was released from her stem cell transplant team’s care, my twin sister asked her if she wanted to play a song to celebrate. This disc is what she popped out of the glove compartment and the two of them rocked out on the ride back home. The image of this in my mind turns me into Niagara Falls … each time, I’m a blubbering mess. PS-Who knew mom had even heard of Jason Mraz, let alone owned the CD?).

A Moment Changes Everything by David Gray (Um, yeh, it does. For good and bad).

Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa by Vampire Weekend (The Benetton reference in this song makes me think of when I pretty much exclusively wore that brand in high school. Well, that and Esprit. I’ve got pictures to prove it).

Foxey Lady by Jimi Hendrix (If he were alive today, Hendrix would be turning 68. My twin sister and I share his birthday and I’d like to think we’re bringing some foxy to 34, which we’ll turn the Saturday after Thanksgiving. PS—Not a typo, that’s how foxey is spelled on this track … honest).

We’re Going to Be Friends by The White Stripes (This reminds me of all the dear friends I get to see when I go back to my hometown. Plus, I’m so intrigued by the dysfunction that is Jack and Meg White).

Hometown Glory by Adele (Her voice is like an angel. A nice serenity now! breather).

If I Ever Feel Better by Phoenix (Right now in this moment I feel like the future is much more exciting than scary, a cause for celebration).

Volcano by Damien Rice (Sometimes even the best-intended conversations start off slow and build into disaster. As my sister-in-law says to my niece, use your words).

Not Fair by Lilly Allen (It never is quite fair sometimes, but in the end, it all evens out in the wash).

She’s a Lady by Tom Jones (Another sing-a-long, but seriously keep it in check even if you have to repeat the mantra–the little lady full of style and grace).

We Get On by Kate Nash (Is there anything more British sounding than the phrase,  we get on? I’m grateful to the Brit settlers for finding that rock in Plymouth … a toast, now, pass the potatoes).

I’ve never been a huge coffee drinker, which is a bit odd since tribes of them surround me. I grew up in a household where my mother brewed a full pot daily and proceeded to down the last drop by herself. I sometimes wonder what sort of person my mother would be without her entire pot of coffee a day habit.

And now, I’m married to a man I’ve learned through the years to not even so much as look at before he’s showered and poured at least one cup of really strong stuff and sipped it in silence (bar ESPN’s Sportscenter). I don’t set coffee meetings (I make cocktail, lunch, or dinner plans), and I’ve just never (even in my time spent on overnight rotations in news) felt like I couldn’t live without coffee. And I’ve had good coffee–Hawaiian, Costa Rican, Jamaican–though never been a fan of Starbucks, or as it’s referred to in my house, ‘burnbucks’ or ‘bitterbucks’ (they over-roast their beans, big time).

Now, don’t get me wrong, I do drink coffee. I like the ritual of it at home, the smell, the coffeemaker waking me up in the morning with its handy timer set to go off and rouse us out of bed. I like the kind of beans we buy and that we grind them finely ourselves. I like the way we make it. I like to add a teeny bit of turbinado sugar to it and I like the brand of organic half and half I buy. I like the white Crate & Barrel mugs that are one of the only things from our wedding registry dishes that aren’t missing from the set–-dinner plates and cereal bowls, that’s a whole other story.

But, the truth of it is this—I’ve never had a coffee drink. You know, my drink. Honestly, I never know what to order and usually settle for basic black that I doctor to resemble my coffee at home. As a matter for fact, I don’t even know what I like. I know my husband’s order (Americano with room), my older sister’s (skinny latte with a shot of peppermint), my twin sister’s (varies between time of day and runs the gamut of simple drip to lattes and cappuccinos), and my mom’s (no-nonsense black). In our world of coffee culture, wi-fi, and mobile offices, I’m supposed to know what I like to drink in the morning; society wants me to know these things. Every office I’ve ever worked in had the drill of sending the interns on a Starbucks run. I’d take so long trying to decide I’d just tell them to forget it and get back to doing whatever I was doing before the sweetly gestured interruption.

It all reminds me of that scene in Runaway Bride, the “how do you like your eggs?” moment where Julia Roberts’s Maggie character makes every sort of egg imaginable and ends up with Benedict as the only one she likes, after years of poached, whites-only, and scrambled with dill to appease whomever she was engaged to. Taking that time to figure out what you like. Not what everyone else likes, what you like.

And then it happened. I got my drink. While in Europe over the summer, at any cafe I’d just simply order a coffee with milk without even thinking about it. Though, unlike in my home kitchen, I wouldn’t add sugar because of the decadence of the whole milk, and also unlike at home, coffee there often means espresso and milk means steamed milk. These rich coffees were lovely and I wanted one every single morning. So, there you have it. I’m a cafe au lait. After all these years of skirting around the coffee culture, I finally have a drink worth ordering.

To be fitted by Susan Nethero is a pretty big deal. She’s appeared on Oprah several times with every appearance boasting her mantra of one single garment changing a woman’s life. So, when my friend (and publicity guru) Meg Reggie hooked me up with a session with the one and only founder of Intimacy I was beyond thrilled (but also completely weirded out).

You see, I’m talking about bras here, and this year marks the 100th anniversary of its invention. A century of corsets, pushup pillowed inserts, silicone cutlets, underwire, lace, and twisted straps … we’ve come a long way. But, apparently not far enough as most women own at least eight bras and wear only four. I’ve been measured for a bra once, maybe twice, and not in a proper lingerie store; I’m certain it was at a department store and one time for sure was in the junior’s department.

Clearly, for me, the bra is an afterthought. Well, when you meet with Susan it’s a whole different sort of experience right off the bat. For starters, she doesn’t use measuring tape. She expertly brings in a stack of bras some measuring for size around and some for cup. Regardless of how she does it, you’ll walk out with the most amazing fit. In my session (which wasn’t nearly as invasive and strange as I feared it would be) I was enlightened to know I was wearing two sizes too big around (band size) and two sizes too small in the cup. In other words I’ve been spilling out and adjusting straps for years.

So here’s my plea—ladies, let’s all make a pact to invest a little money into a well-fitting bra. I’m not saying it’s life changing, but it is chest changing. It doesn’t have to be fancy, it just has to fit and maybe, just maybe, we’ll actually get more than three in the rotation, bada bing.

oliveandcocoa.com

In Atlanta, like most of the country, it’s still unseasonably warm (though as I write, it’s a lovely 58°) at any rate, the dog days aren’t quite over. I’m longing for the flavors and style this equinox is supposed to bring. Spicy, crisp, heavy on the clover, and a crunch beneath my feet, that’s how I want this season to feel, smell, and taste. An ode to hints of autumn that you just want to wrap up all cozy and warm and smother in kisses.

1. Check Belted Drape Coat
2. Cincinnati Chili
3. 19 Block Cuvée Wine
4. Hard Cider
5. Pumpkin Leather Folding Tote
6. Taupe Woven Scarf
7. Gingerbread Cupcake Mix
8. Georgia Cane Syrup
9. Fig Scented Candle
10. Riding Boots

I first heard about fitness guru Tracy Anderson on Gwyneth Paltrow’s GOOP, and then, when fellow bloggers and friends Asian Cajuns told me about her workout DVD. (Side note, you’ll get to know twins behind the site, Lauren and Catherine better next week.)

Knowing I was going to be at my mom’s and out of my normal workout routine, this DVD seemed like the obvious choice to take with me. Though, I was forewarned, and I’m warning you, to say Tracy isn’t the best teacher is an understatement.

It’s the first workout DVD I’ve done that you really do have to do several times before you get it because she’ll just start going into a new exercise without telling you. Plus, I get the impression she’s pretty much in love with herself and adds dance moves to just about everything. She reminds me of girls who dance in clubs that stare at themselves in the mirror making sexy faces. Oh, and she looks like Shakira while doing it all. Awesome.

But, in her defense, the interview chapter of the tape did resonate with me. She experienced college weight gain, and nothing worked to get her long and lean, she just kept bulking in the gym. Knowing girls want really toned dancer limbs, she spent eight years developing and researching this program, and the end result is this: it works.

My abs after the first workout killed. Which is ironic because that’s the exact section on the DVD I despised the most, her standing abdominal workout where it appears she’s in a Beyonce video and is ridiculously annoying. Seriously she’s just keeping beat to the music. But, I’m thinking the likes of Gwyneth and Madonna, who are Tracy’s clients (I love that I’m writing about her like we’re old friends) know a good thing when they see it. Though not available for download on iTunes, it’s worth the purchase on her website.

And to completely counterpoint, it might be best to get in the whole club scene and pop a bottle of Armand de Brignac while you’re at it. At the very least it’ll make the standing ab portion actually make sense.

I’ve wanted to interview Jim Denevan, the creative genius behind Outstanding in the Field for ages now. His culinary troupe goes beyond just farm to table by literally bringing the table to the farm. With food events criss-crossing America, stops in Europe slated for 2011, and tickets selling out in hours, this is one dining experience that’s a must when in a town near you.

I’m thrilled to finally be able to post my interview with Jim, in which we chat about charming venues, adventurous eaters, and geographical salts.

dp (danapop) I’m fascinated by the Outstanding in the Field concept, what made you initially come up with it?

oitf (outstanding in the field) I worked at a conventional, popular, interesting restaurant in Santa Cruz and we’d go to the farmers market twice a week and meet the farmers there and also my brother is a farmer, so I was very familiar with farms and farming.

We started farmer dinners at the restaurant and the whole menu was organized around one particular farm with the farmer getting to talk about their work. The dinners were really interesting and people wanted to hear what the farmer had to say.

That was an eye-opener, and that was in the late ‘90s. Then in the summer of ‘99 we took the dinner to a farm. It was very exciting, it went very well, but it became less of a struggle as people became more interested in learning about a farm and having a meal on a farm. Basically in the last 3 years I’ve seen that culturally people throughout the country were ready for this experience.

dp What do you think Outstanding in the Field brings to the culinary and dining scene?

oitf I think it’s fun and it’s also stimulating from a culinary perspective. It would be outstanding as in the best we could find throughout the country. We work with some of the better chefs. It mixes up people’s expectations and I think the concept of a conventional restaurant was a little tired. The whole idea of supperclubs and underground restaurants are examples of doing something out of the ordinary and unusual. People want to be a little more adventurous, really.

dp Do you think farm to table is an overused phrase? A trend?

oinf The farm to table is a little buzzy and mushy, where it used to be a little clearer. Now, you can really use that word to describe anything.

You can’t get anymore direct, or literal and real than taking a table right into the farm. That’s the new phrase, table to farm (laughing).

dp How do you select and scout locations for a tour stop? How do you come up with the menu?

oitf First the location has to be charming and beautiful. Really it comes down to the farmer and their story and cultivation of land for food.

There’s orchards, dairy operations, the sea cove ones. Whatever we find along the way we try to include. There are always more people at the table than just the fisherman or the farmer, there’s the winemaker or local cheese maker, beekeepers.

We brought in guest chefs about 5 years ago. I do the first event of the year every year in California and then the theme from that is to bring in another local chef when we travel across the country. Which is interesting in terms of ingredients and venues.

dp You kind of touched on it a bit, but beyond the remoteness, who comes up with the overall look of an event?

oitf I’m the concept guy. The table shouldn’t be seen when the guests arrive. It should be behind a row of trees. It should be in this spectacular site. I get pretty darn obsessive about that. I really like to have it in the most pleasant place it can be on the farm.

dp I know you live in Santa Cruz as a base, what does California (and its state of mind) bring to your life and business?

oitf People are definitely marching to their own drummer at times. I think here they embrace instead of question things. Across the country there’s more farm to table than in the Bay area. I think people are pretty excited throughout the country, I don’t see it as an east coast west coast thing at this point. Things are changing.

dp I hear (and have also seen) that you are quite the artist. How do you balance Outstanding in the Field with your art?

oitf My season for doing art is about November through the middle of March, through the winter. Outstanding in the Field takes places from the first day in May until late October, so it fits in perfectly really.

dp What gadget, spice, product, or technique is getting you excited these days?

oitf As elemental as it is and somewhat boring, I really like salt. I think it’s kind of a fun like wine from a certain place and such. It’s a fun geographic specific thing.

As for a gadget, a chef thinks about the knives first.

Growing up in a military household, I can’t say I’ve ever had to the motivation to attend a boot camp fitness class. But last summer one of my writing clients was all gung-ho about doing them and asked me to join her long before the sun was up and newspapers delivered. Strangely enough (pretty sure wine was involved), I agreed. Of course I overslept badly and got in a explosive screaming match with my GPS who was giving me poor directions in his British accent to it’s-anyone’s-guess-where-the-eff-I-am-park a good twenty miles from my house.

I knew I was in the right spot when I pulled up to a lot packed with people decked out in running clothes and clearly pumped to be there. I managed to double-park as the crowd waited on me and my unbrushed teeth and raccoon makeup from the night before to join them. They may’ve even clapped in that, “so glad you could join us” way, which is what I also like to call “the sarcastic clap.”

In the end, the workout proved to be really hard, but really fun. Two days later when I was itching from the fertilizer rash I had from all the rolling around in the grass for sit-ups and squat thrusts, I was second-guessing my initial excitement about the camp.

Fast-forward a year to when I’m burned out big time on my usual workouts–yoga, Pilates, and running. I’ve peaked. Beyond a plateau, my body just stayed the same and I was plain bored. And don’t even get me going on lack of motivation when my husband was laid off and both of us were working freelance; let’s just say there was lots o’ sleeping in at my house and not enough working out.

I needed something to boost my workout enthusiasm and kick me back into shape. So, for four weeks I decided to do a boot camp series. That’s twenty classes, five days a week for four weeks. Plus, nutritional support. I decided to go in with an open mind; forget about the actual military father, and my usual course of action when someone is screaming in my face of either hitting the road or completely shutting down. None of the above happened. No one yelled, no one cried, no one stormed off in a huff.

First day–I felt really strong after finding out I can actually run a 7-minute mile. First week as a whole, wow it’s hard to wake up at 6 a.m., and damn, I’m out of shape. It reminds me a lot of high school with all the squats and lunges I did during cheerleading practice. I wish for my senior year cheerleading butt. Also I’m feeling really embarrassed about what I’m writing down in my food journal. I mean, I had to put a scotch lunch on there loaded with calamari, spinach dip, fried green tomatoes, and oh right, five different kinds of scotch at one in the afternoon. Just a normal day at the office folks, nothing to see here.

Week two—More than once I thought I would either A) pass out or B) throw up (neither happened) during a workout. This was the week I also realized I eat like pure garbage with all these media events and such and started being really hard on myself and my Oprah arms, marshmallow tummy, and cottage cheese legs (mmm marshmallows). The other girls in my class looked like L.A. Laker girls and did two-a-day workouts with boot camp just being one workout a day for them. Also slightly annoyed with my husband for buying a berry crumble from Trader Joe’s for a photo shoot, which we both devoured in about two sittings. Ridic. We may or may not have wrestled for the last piece.

Week three—I overslept (Monday Monday, can’t trust that day) and was sort of mad at myself all day. I missed the group’s camaraderie and encouragement about helping whip each other back into shape. By Friday of this week, one campmate’s calorie watch said she’d burned 630 calories in 60 minutes … I can’t even burn that running for an hour–talk about good incentive. This week I also got used to having bone bruises on my knees and palms of my hands from all the pushups and mountain climbers. This was also the first week I truly started to feel like I was getting in shape and my body was getting toned. Lastly, I learned that throwing a medicine ball against the wall of a racquetball court is incredibly liberating.

Week four—I’m starting to feel really strong. Running in place with high knees … no problem. Frog jumps … I’m a pro. No seriously, people in the class started commenting on how amazing my frog jumps were; don’t be jealous. After talking with some of the other boot campers, it seems that most people invest in at least two months because just towards the end of the first month is when you’re really starting to notice change. I would agree. Overall, it was a fantastic workout change of pace, both fun and challenging. I’m thinking of signing up for one more month, but my schedule is beginning to get a little spotty with some upcoming travel, which, you’ll read all about next week…

I’m a firm believer in investing in the summer staple of a good pair of sunglasses, or as stylist Rachel Zoe likes to call them, sunnies.

Everyone needs at least one go-to pair. I have two. My Spys are sporty and do the job of not adding to the onset of crows-feet, while my Ray Ban aviators are used more for style than substance. Beyond those pairs, I’m certainly not the person qualified to let you in on shade styling secrets and what the trends are for this summer.

But, Chris Anderson, a.k.a. my accessories guru, can. Now, here’s the thing with a blog that is one of its greatest perks. You meet people and feel like you know them without ever having hugged or giggled in real life–just across FB status updates, twitter handles, and blog comments, that’s all.

Well, Chris is a former co-worker of my twin sister and just happens to be the most stylish person either of us know (albeit he and I have never met). The two of them were meeting up in San Diego (obviously to stay out until all hours of the night at clubs playing Lady Gaga) and so they went along the boardwalk to work on this dos and don’ts tutorial on the art of picking the best summer accessory around. Chris’ brother Matt also lent a hand in this piece, my favorite is his don’t picture.

Also–be sure to check out Chris’s fabulous work on his blog chrisryanart.tumlr.com.

I love the dualism of Anna Bondoc’s work. This L.A. based artist works in one of the most seemingly simple forms around–paper. But what she does with an X-acto knife creating and cutting these layers is like nothing else. Working and whittling down pieces ever so intricately, using shapes and designs that appear like a modern twist to an ancient medium dating back to origami.

I had the chance for a Skype interview with Anna and her business partner Vanessa Peter in which we chat about perfectionism, patterns, and parenthood.

dp There’s something so simple about working with paper, yet, your work is so intricate, how do you balance that?

ab The simplicity is true it really comes from my background as a printmaker. I like the idea of layers of color, very graphic, and sharply designed shapes. After I had my daughter it was one activity I could do in small bursts and when you’re working with paper there’s immediate color. There’s no weight, no machinery, just paper and an X-acto knife.

That sort of intricacy comes because I enjoy the repetition of it and the actual cutting and as I work with the layers the layers then turn into shapes and all nest with each other and mimic the first shape that I cut.

Similar to when you’re a child making snowflakes the magic of cutting out a shape and having the paper not fall apart and holding it up to the light, seeing that you created a positive space out of a negative space. That forces me to slow down; I’m taking the time to cut and thinking deeply about how colors interact. I’m not rushing through it on a computer, which is very fast. It’s much more deliberate than on a computer.

dp Your work to me seems very influenced by Japanese forms, and even origami, where does that come from?

ab I don’t really know. I do know that when I open up and choose my own art books there was always a negative space and industrial design. Hours and hours spent looking at books. I just kept gravitating towards Japanese design. Lots of open space, but there’s a sense of restraint.

dp How does living in Los Angles affect and influence your work? Because I think L.A. in general would be a complete contradiction to your tight, clean style.

ab L.A. doesn’t necessarily affect me, but my inner goal. I love traveling because it brings layers of history. The California lifestyle has allowed me to bring out levels of concern … in L.A. you have hiking everyday and swimming and in NY (where I used to live) you have twitter everyday.

dp Which is interesting because I think in this conversation and the grid and sort of pattern of New York is would be more you and it’s interesting to me that L.A. and the nature that it is sort of is the balance for you.

ab I feel like NY left sort of an intellectual footprint on me. But, with a child it’s a little too much.

dp How does being a mother influence your work? Or how does it not?

ab This pushed me into art because when I had minutes of free time I worked. Before I was sort of cerebral and thought it through in ways that I don’t now. Now, it’s put up or shut up. Are you going to create or are you not?

And made me think why is a child’s name such a big deal? Now I understand that connection. My work is now a reflection of giving myself one tiny goal and giving myself a space to work.

dp How do you know when a piece is finished? Is it an aesthetic feel or emotional one? With your pieces because there are so many layers, when do you walk away?

ab It’s kind of when I run out of space to cut and those windows are full. And then there is always that question of–do I feel balanced? Does the piece feel top heavy? Bottom heavy? Does the negative shape take too much space? I’m not a gardener, but I imagine that must be how a gardener must feel. Is this space too intricate? My eye now will notice a slight imbalance.

dp You work really resonates with me because there seems to be an exactness and preciseness that I can appreciate. Does that piece of your personality only come out through your work?

ab I was raised in an Asian household and was a chef for a little while and my leaning was towards pastry, which is mathematical. I enjoy the chemistry and exactness of that, that kind of completeness is why I enjoy working with a knife. I want that clean boundary so I can see exactly how a shape interacts with the color. I see it in my parenting. My daughter is on a very strict schedule. I get satisfaction in making right.

dp What’s next for you?

ab The big thing is our launch and after we launch with our product–I’m not just creating layered pieces on paper, it’s on a knitted product, a rug, and beyond. When people see my work they generally say this would look so great on such and such.  I would also love to see it on wallpaper. I don’t picture someone wearing it because it’s so big, but it would be great in a fabric.

We love being on the learning curve. Cut paper is fun, but part of the learning curve is what kind of yarns are out there to make a children’s sock and what kind of manufacturers. And how you translate a flat pattern into a fiber. We have fun contemplating what we must learn.

dp Which is interesting because I think most people don’t want that side to them to be exposed. They do what they know. Interesting that you’re not only willing to step outside of that box, but explore around a bit.

ab It’s fun. And I think I come from an entrepreneurial family. We’re used to the layers and when you look at things you can use it’s endless. Can we work with leather and layer it? Rugs? It’s so exciting.

dp How can my readers get one of your fabulous pieces?

ab Order online through the website–annabondoc.com

I’ve always been a fan of solid Brit pop. From the ’90s Blur, James and Oasis to today’s Travis and Coldplay. I’m a sucker for brooding scowls and accents duking it out with a catchy beat.

As I’ve mentioned before, we’re traveling for a wedding in mid-August and we’ve just begun the planning stage. It’s looking fairly certain that we’ll have three legs to this trip–England, Hungary, and Poland, or more specifically, London, Budapest, and Krakow.

For now, I’m putting together the London version of my playlist that includes a heavy dose of UK invasion, plus a few I think will be perfect for gazing out train windows, daydreaming

Time has Told Me by Nick Drake (One of my favorites by him, such a waste that he only made it to 26).

Maybe Tomorrow by Stereophonics (I don’t think I’ve made a playlist yet without including these boys … I never tire of them and my friend who’s getting married introduced me to them).

There Goes the Fear by The Doves (The great thing about traveling is you can step outside of your norm, fear included).

Dreams by Passion Pit (Their version of the Cranberries original is so beautiful).

Daylight by Matt & Kim (Fit it all in from sunup to sundown).

You Told a Lie by Camera Obscura (The summer before my own wedding in 2003, I went to Scotland with said friend, though we didn’t make it to Glasgow where this band is from).

Quelqu’un M’a Dit by Carla Bruni (Model, singer, and married to the President of France, a luxe life indeed).

Sleep the Clock Around by Belle & Sebastian (A sleep mask and dose of Ambien will aid in the time change).

Svefn-g-englar by Sigur Rós (Almost eleven years to the day the brilliance that is Ágaetis Byrjun was released; such a gorgeous album and particularly this song).

Daniel by Elton John (It’s so strange when you go to a new place how many people remind you of others you know, my interpretation of this song is a bit of that).

I Was Made For You by She & Him (I know Zooey Deschanel’s doe eyed act bothers some, but I do think she has a fabulous voice and everyone could use a sing-a-long).

Shiver by Coldplay (I was gifted this album long before it was cool to own and could not get this song off repeat).

Back to This by Helio Sequence (The trance-like beat on this one is unbelievable).

Young Americans by David Bowie (Can you really list Brit bands without Bowie? More importantly, we’ll do our best to blend in during our travels).

Subterranean Homesick Alien by Radiohead (We won’t be gone long enough to really get homesick–other than missing Otis the wonder puppy).

Holiday by Hourly Radio (It’s ironic how everyone but Americans call vacations a holiday. Going on holiday sounds so official, like you’re declaring it festive, period).

Lay me Down by The Frames (I adore this band from Dublin whose lead singer has since become one part of The Swell Season, equally as good).

Song to Say Goodbye by Placebo (This is an angst-riddled song that’s perfect to blast when you’re feeling frustrated or better yet, totally over it. The lyric, ‘you lying, trying, waste of space’ really sums it all up).

Talk her Down by Starsailor (This English band is said to be influenced by Jeff Buckley. I’ve seen them live several times and believe the comparison).

1901 by Phoenix (I gulped the Kool-Aid, love, love, love this song, muah).

I’ve always been a reader (it sort of goes hand in hand with us writers). As a child, I was certainly the happiest when buried in a book and honestly that hasn’t changed much with age. Since we’re approaching summer months and perhaps I’ll even admit to a little escapism on my part, here are my picks for what to read. Not all of these are newly released titles, but some of my favorites. And truthfully, when you’re in a house rental with your entire family for seven days you won’t care when it came out if you’ve gotten to the point of isolating yourself in a quiet room with a stiff drink reminding yourself serenity now! PS—things would be so much easier if I had a Kindle.

Deborah Copaken Kogan working in Zimbabwe, 1989

I read Shutterbabe the first year I worked at CNN. I was fresh out college with my journalism degree in tow, drowning in a newsroom pool of brilliant minds and it couldn’t have come at a better time–I was an incredibly small fish in a vastly deep pond, struggling to swim. An ex-boyfriend brought the book over, along with a stack of others on our first date. Sounds promising, but I assure you, the book was the best thing out of the relationship.

Since reading it, I’ve likely lost, loaned, or gifted at least 20 copies. It’s just such a great read. I’m beyond thrilled to interview Deborah Copaken Kogan, the author of (among other titles) Shutterbabe.

danapop (dp) How did the idea for Shutterbabe transform into it actually being published? What was your writing process like?

Deborah Copaken Kogan (dck) The whole process, in retrospect, was weirdly easy and lightening fast, especially compared with my second effort, the novel ‘Between Here and April’, whose finished manuscript was rejected 39 times. (While ‘Shutterbabe’ was an instant bestseller, ironically ‘BH&A’ has sold more books over the course of its life, 59,000 to date.)

I took a leave of absence from my job as a producer from Dateline NBC to see if I could actually sit down and write my memoirs of my career as a war photographer from start to finish, something I’d been wanting to do for years. The first day, I went to a coffee shop to sit and think about how to approach it and wound up writing the entire outline, pretty much in its final form, on a napkin. (I then transferred my notes to a small moleskin notebook.) This was back in May of 1998, when my husband and I shared an old desktop computer, so I didn’t have a laptop on which to work. A few weeks of long-hand writing later, realizing I wouldn’t be able to work at home on our one computer—my older kids were 1 and nearly 3, and we lived in a tiny 1 ½ bedroom apartment—I purchased a cheap laptop and started writing at my friend Maia’s apartment on the 3 days a week I had babysitting. (We couldn’t afford to have full-time care once I left Dateline, as my salary, at that point, made up the bulk of our income.)

I wrote the first chapter in a month, and a book proposal within a few weeks of that. I then asked my friend Tad’s then-girlfriend, Courtney, a book editor, to give it a read to see if I was on the right track. She gave me verbal notes while I was on vacation with my family that summer and then provided agent recommendations. I sent the sample chapter and proposal off, via snail mail (remember, this was 1998) to the five agents she suggested. Three came back wanting to represent it, two declined. I picked the agent who seemed the most passionate. She had me edit the first chapter and expand my proposal from 3 pages to 15. She sent it out to publishers, and within days I had a book contract with Villard, who’d made a pre-emptive bid. By that time, my eldest had just started his first year of preschool on the Columbia University campus, so I would drop him off in the morning and write in the Teacher’s College Library, after finagling a library pass from a kind librarian. I wrote three days a week for about a year, then four days, then five—using my advance to pay for extra babysitting—and handed in the manuscript on my then-youngest’s 3rd birthday, March 2, 2000.

Looking back on that era of dial-up internet and few distractions, I realize what a perfect bubble of concentration I had. (Oh, to go back to those twitter-free days!) I would just sit down at 9 AM, when the library opened, and write like a demon until it was time to pick up my kids or relieve the babysitter, whichever applied to that particular day.

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My Grammy turned 90 this year. And if I had to guess, about 74 of those 90 years have been spent with her “face” done. That’s what she calls it, “doing her face.” Something along the lines of, “just let me put my face on.” Overall, she’s an avid Estée Lauder devotee, and more specifically, besides her face, she wouldn’t dream of going anywhere without lipstick. Her purses I’m sure all contain half-used tubes in secret compartments complete with mirrors hidden away for easier application. And at the end of the day, she takes off her face with cold cream and tissues.

Despite being related, the lipstick gene didn’t totally pass through to me. On any given day, you can find any 1 of these 3 things on my lips:

1.    Burt’s Bees lip balm
2.    Estée Lauder high gloss in ivory (obviously a gift from said Grammy). Essentially this is clear lipgloss.
3.    Estée Lauder pure color lipstick in beige (ditto on the Grammy gift). Basically, it’s a hue the same color as my natural lips. I know, daring!

But I’ve noticed this spring, vibrant pink and red lips are popping up everywhere. There are always those classics that pretty much everyone from Rachel Zoe to Nina Garcia dish out. In fashion, it’s generally as standard as a structured tote, a strand of pearls, black stilettos, and so on. And in beauty, it usually circles back to one thing … lip stain, in a signature red.

So, in the spirit of change, and my Grammy, I marched myself over to the Chanel counter to try out the new Spring 2010 Rouge line. Finding the perfect shade is no easy task. It took multiple tries in the name of research. But guess what? I found my perfect shade … it’s called Gabrielle and it makes my lips pop–just in time for spring.

I’m in love with my new look. Here’s to taking it all off with cold cream.