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James Victore Art Sale = Be Still Beating My Heart

Go here. Buy now.

So I am an art slut. It's ok, I've come to terms with it. I am a whore for paintbrushes, ink smudges, and people's personal creations that I feel call my name. I might not be knowledgeable enough to sell it, but I am knowledgeable enough to waste all my disposable income on it. Lucky me!

I am also promiscuous in my pursuit of a good deal. I sign up for all the private sale sites and am always searching for a newer, better way to get the fancy stuff I want with the mere pennies I have.

Most recently I signed up for Fab.com a private sale site that specializes in specialty home decor, art. etc.

Holy crap, I think I'm in love. Today they are featuring something I just had to share.

Art Prints by James Victore! One of my favorite graphic designers. I think his work speaks so much to the dualistic role of design to create aesthetically pleasing art, and also communicate a message. Most of James prints for sale on Fab.com are some sort of advertisement designs, from subway ads to wine labels. And yet I would love to hang one in my home.

Sadly I can't afford even the discounted prices being offered. UGH! But please, someone take advantage of this.  Or if you love me (hint hint fiance, friends, family, or the secretly enamored) I do have a wedding coming up, and I hear rumors that people buy you stuff for those things. . .
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The Paris I'd Like to Share. . .

It seems like only yesterday I was sitting on a 12 hour KLM plane ride to Charles De Gaulle, having my seat kicked in by a 3 year old on a rampage, drifting in and out of consciousness with Black Swan on in the background and thinking to myself "is this really my life?"

Seven days, a Japanese Tsunami, a Parisian adventure and an engagement later, I boarded the Air France jet still feeling strangely detached from the craziest week I have ever experienced. Ever. I thought back over the first sleepless night, waking up to watch the BBC coverage of the Japan disaster and eating pan au chocolate and some random (and not very delicious) hot milk that the bf had managed to conjure up from the only place open at 3:30 am in our part of Paris that also sold milk--Le McDonalds. I pondered the metro, with its surprisingly talented array of performers and constant bustle. Of course I went back and re-enjoyed all the delicious food I ate (except pate, sorry I tried but I don' t love you!) and I thought about how much my life had changed in one week.

When I came back I was immediately thrown into the whirlwind of  "being engaged". Seeing the families, re-telling of stories, being asked the date (um, we've been engaged 3 days people lol) holding my hand out and gazing dreamily at the sparkly new adornment on my normally naked finger.

You would think someone who loves to share so much (the proof of which lies in this blog) would love to go over every detail of the trip and the proposal endlessly. At first its what I thought too, but then not so much. It was kind of like this secret that I wanted to tuck into my back pocket and relish all on my own.

The result was that I have been horrendously slow at posting pictures. Which I figure is ok, because plenty of you have been there, or live there, or blog there! But if not, above is the Paris I'd like to share. The good parts, the ones worth capturing.