One Art

Good morning! I’m writing this post as I nurse the first cold of winter. I had to decline several events I had really been looking forward to, including a poetry reading by a dear longtime colleague and friend. I’m sharing this beautiful set, which is the first in a series I shot with both my husband @tacticalme and my sweet friend @kayhadrin.photo at Mission Loft in San Francisco.

Instead of my own words, I’m sharing one of my favorite poems, which feels just right today.

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The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

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Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

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Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

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I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

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I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

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—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

-Elizabeth Bishop


As ever, thanks for reading! xx, Rebecca

Dreams

I’ve never self-described as a dreamer; I am definitely much more of a pragmatist. I’m extremely action oriented (some - namely my husband - might read that as “rash” but I generally do a very quiet think through before proceeding to action. Although I can see how to the outside observer it might come across as an overly swift process) and I feel lugubrious if I linger too long in the conceptual stage of anything.

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But lately I’ve been wondering if this non-dreamer-ness is actually a middle class luxury more so than a basic personality trait. Wow, that got uncomfortable, didn’t it?

If I want to achieve a goal, I don’t really have to worry if there’s going to be a language barrier in my way, or a set of unfamiliar rules and codes, or if financing my goal will be possible. I’m not in the 5%, but I pretty much know how to get from point A to B to C without feeling terribly constrained, and certainly without feeling oppressed.

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I’ve driven past the “DREAM” billboard in San Francisco a number of times since it was installed last year. When we decided to visit it for this shoot, I did a little research about the artist behind the concept, Ana Teresa Fernández, and came across this comment she made in an interview shortly after the project was completed: “This is a time when we are being asked who is allowed to fulfill their dreams…San Francisco is a sanctuary city, so let us keep dreaming.”

All at once, I realized my pragmatic nature really is a luxury, and secondly, that I do have plenty of dreams born inside my own heart that I simply haven’t named as such.

I dream that my kids will grow up feeling heard, and loved, and become empathetic people.

I dream that my family will stay in good health.

I dream that people will learn to be less concerned with power and more joyful.

So much of my own dreaming, it seems, is born of life’s elements that I cannot really control. And for too many people, the list is much longer than mine.

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Happy Sunday, and thanks for reading!


Steve Madden coat (old) // Petit Frange shirt // Citizens of Humanity jeans // Dr. Martens boots // Loeffler Randall bag

Self-Taught Rules

I often tell my kids to be explorative and take risks. Try that new vegetable! Advocate for yourself! Have you considered a different haircut? I really should hold myself to the same standard.

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Do you ever feel like you’ve become pretty sure of who you are and what you like? I know I’m not a “pink” person. How can I be edgy wearing pink? Pink is synonymous with submissiveness. Why am I so scared that wearing something that isn’t “me” will cascade into all of these damaging and permanent misinterpretations about who I really am?

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I don’t think I’m going to turn into one of those #allthepinkthings type of girls, butI’m glad I gave it a try. It felt good in both an ironic, and even in an unironic way. And more importantly, it reminded me that one of the surest ways to figure out who you are is to briefly step outside of that self-imposed definition. We are governed by so many invisible, self-taught rules, aren’t we?

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Happy Sunday! Thanks for reading.


Vintage Chanel jacket // J.Crew skirt // Fleur du Mal bodysuit // Halogen sandals