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Tag "Burma"

Drink and dance and laugh and lie,

Love the reeling midnight through,

For tomorrow we shall die!

(But, alas, we never do.)

—Dorothy Parker, from Death and Taxes

 

We all have a place that holds us to the fire, whether we call it our hometown, holidays at our in-laws’ house, or a workplace where we are in over our heads. Whatever the GPS coordinates of our Waterloos may be, our battlefields have this in common: a constricting, strict Saturnian energy. These are places where we rarely get what we want. Instead, each time we visit them, we’re hammered by defeat.

Boise has been this place for me. After a break-up, a job loss, or the kamikaze free-fall of a functional degree of health, this is where I end up. But in not giving it up so easily, this town has taught me a necessary lesson: to stop asking what I want out of life and to start figuring out what life wants from me.

Sometimes the cues are subtle. Other times, getting what I need feels a lot like being dragged behind a bulldozer. It takes time, discernment, and synchronicity to find one’s stream in life. It takes faith to jump back in. When the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I’m feeling sad—I get my ass to dance class.

Today I stumbled through a ludicrously up-tempo Zumba class at the downtown Y. Because life’s hard and I believe a well-cut profile on the dance floor can warm even the bleakest heart, here’s my ode to dance halls, dance class, and the spirit that revels despite it all.

Happy Holidays. Xo K

 

Silk blouse with shoulder ribbons: FlyNow (Bangkok Paragon)

Mod silk tie: Bangkok Paragon

Skinny jeans: “The Legging” by Current/Elliott (Barneys CO-OP)

Sneakers: faux Vans (blackmarket)

Plaid shirt: ZARA (Bangkok)

High-waisted jeans: ZARA (Bangkok)

Gold flats: custom-made (Hoi An, Vietnam)

Friend: DJ Boots (The Blue Cat, Phnom Penh)

Khmer dance lessons from the soldiers of the Royal Cambodian Armed Forces Battalion 169 stationed at Preah Vihear

T-shirt: Kim’s Karate (thrift store)

Skinny jeans: Hudson (Macy’s, Boise Towne Square)

Sandals: faux Gucci (blackmarket)

Friend: Farrah K.

Woodstock photo dress: ZARA (Bangkok)

Jade rosary: Burma

Woven clutch: gift (Indonesia)

Friend: V Boots

 

 

 

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Some shape of beauty moves away the pall / From our dark spirits.

–John Keats, ‘Endymion’

 

Blue velvet Cecilia stud pumps: Kat Maconie (London)

I have Keats on the brain today: A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: / Its loveliness increases; it will never / Pass into nothingness ….

Most days I find myself trying to balance my love of the material world with my awareness that spirit runs the show.

 

Earrings: pearl, bottle glass, and silver (Portland street market)

 

Wearing pearls reminds me that we live in paradise.

but still will keep / A bower quiet for us, and a sleep / Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.

 

Jacket: Kenar (Marshall’s)

  Leggings: Splendid (short of cashmere, these are the softest leggings in the world; I order two new pairs each winter from Splendid.com)

 

I often marvel at the world of things: pearls, pills, motorcycles; blue velvet, Stetsons, lotus flowers; silkworms, vodka, Alfa Romeos—why were they given to us, and what are we meant to do with them?

 

Lotus flower scarf: Loom-woven entirely from the fiber of the lotus flower in Inle Lake, Burma. (The artisans of Inle Lake are the only people on earth with the painstaking knowledge of lotus flower weaving. In Burma, robes woven out of lotus are reserved for the most venerable Buddhist monks.)

 

Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing / A flowery band to bind us to the earth.

I have a hunch that some things, say vodka and pills, are meant to bring us closer to spirit through chiseling a separation—when we abuse them, it brings us to our knees. Other things like pearls and lotus flowers are pure shapes of beauty—worldly gifts to remove the worldly pall.


 

Plain black leather bag: handmade (Bangkok)

                               

Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth / Of noble natures, of the gloomy days, / Of all the unhealthy and the o’er-darkn’d ways / Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all ….

These are the things that bind me.

 

Photos by Kelly Lynae on Toy Cam for Android 

 

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My mother’s Balinese maternity dress

Batik Dress: Tailored in Bali, circa 1978
Shoes:
Nurture flats (Dillard’s)

I was baptized at Kuta Beach, Bali, so batik is in my blood. Loose and airy, this tent-shaped batik dress with long sleeves is perfect for a day of temple hopping. Bagan is the ancient capital of the First Burmese Empire and contains a mind-boggling array of 11th to 13th century pagodas: 2,217 at last count. With so many temples to visit by horse-cart, comfort is key.

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