Showing posts with label Romantic Homes Magazines. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Romantic Homes Magazines. Show all posts

Thursday, December 6, 2012

How Luc Came Into Our Lives

It started in the evening, a piercing contraction that started the momentous journey of your birth. Your father told me to relax, suggested I take a nap or watch a movie, as it would be a long night ahead. He even toyed with the idea of a bike ride. Nothing about your labor was like the six-hour “Super Sunday” class we took to prepare us for labor, where they showed a video of weary couples bouncing on exercise balls, engaging in crazy breathing exercises and husbands giving pain stricken wives massages. By the way, your father still owes me that massage.

Luc Came Into Our Lives
Luc Came Into Our Lives
Before this evening I wanted you to leave my womb so you could join us. I spoke to you, watched you move across my stomach. I wondered about you. What would you look like? Would you be funny or serious? And as quick as making a wish, your arrival was fast and exciting. No, I did not watch a movie and your father did not ride his bike. The contractions crept in and overtook the clock. We were on our way to the hospital. The nurses called the doctor on night duty. They told Daddy to attend to the car since I was 6 cm dilated. On his departure my water broke. I was pushing, and the delivery process had officially begun. In a blur I saw the doctor enter. I followed her instructions with one vision in mind: that I would finally be meeting you. And then I heard your glorious wail, announcing your arrival on Earth, and you were in my arms. I was overwhelmed that all my thoughts on who you were could now be seen, heard and felt. You are the miracle that marks my happiest moment.

Thank you, Luc, for introducing me to such euphoria. I am your protector and will do anything to ensure your happiness. You are loved unconditionally. Even when you urinate on The New York Times Book Review as I am about to turn the page, I can’t help but think that you came with a witty sense of humor on how to get Mom going.

Thursday, November 29, 2012

Remembering Sixteen Candles

There is one boy I never got over. My husband, however, does not consider him a threat. He was tall, sculpted and had the sensitivity of someone considering a life in the monastery. He was unattainable but put himself out there. His name was Jake Ryan.

Sixteen Candles
For those who came of age with John Hughes’ films, Jake Ryan was the Prince Charming of our generation. If you are unaware of Jake Ryan, the character played by Michael Schoeffling in Sixteen Candles, here’s a brief synopsis:
The film’s heroine, Samantha, a gawky redhead, is a high school sophomore about to turn 16. Samantha’s birthday becomes an afterthought as her family gathers one weekend for her sister’s wedding.

Enter Jake Ryan, the demi-god senior who sits behind Samantha in homeroom, making her as hot as a volcanic flower. Throw in some amusing supportive roles—notably a geek with a penchant for floppy disks and a Chinese exchange student who wears cardigans—and a high school dance that trickles into Jake’s home with out-of-town parents. The night is comedic, with one-liners served in each scene, though we keep returning to Samantha’s romantic plight. Will Jake leave his perfect girlfriend for an awkward girl he only knows by poorly timed stares in homeroom? He does. Jake rescues Samantha from her sister’s wedding in a red Porsche—1984’s version of a white stallion. We cut to the final scene of the two seated over a birthday cake blazing with 16 candles. They kiss.

Sixteen Candles includes many improvisational moments and sultry, gratuitous Jake Ryan shots to assure its classic status with regular plays on cable television. Sometime after the success of the film, Schoeffling did a very strange thing: He fell from Hollywood to become the J.D. Salinger of young heartthrob actors. This one-hit wonder adds to his intrigue, which assures the love-lost phenomenon that has bewitched myself and countless others.

I related to the growing pains of a character like Samantha, completed the necessary credits in college to achieve a respectable place in the real world, met a man I love and started a family. But there is a part of me fueled by Jake Ryan. The side that is interested in how a couple met and what they do to keep the spark alive. How I waited to commit to someone who I could imagine driving to a wedding for no reason other than wanting to eat a birthday cake with me on top of a dining room table.

Source: Romantic Homes Magazine

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

A Passionate Tale

If we could add a word to the title of Romantic Homes it would be “passion.”

Not the salsa dancing, late night, Miami Beach kind of passion but rather the artistic sense of the word. We profile creators enraptured by the process of being caught in the vortex of their craft. Perhaps they run their own online bedding store or they are moms who can make a plate of meringues look like high art. Regardless, their language is spoken through design, crafts, flowers, fabric, food, living.


Romantic Flowers
Noel Solomon has such passion. She can get lost with a pair of scissors and some really great French paper. The once-blank sheets blossom into flowers on a beauty spurt. A dozen of these paper creations, adhered to the wall, widen the dramatic effect. So opulent, the effect is a formidable competitor to a Bergdorf window display.

Noel is a good read on inspiration, and we are devotees of those who inspire. Passionate people take risks. They will give up the nicely paying finance job so they can transform wire and ribbon into bird ornaments. They loosen the grip of reality to follow their desire Passion.