A few weeks ago we lost one of our favorite creators and I lost a friend. Kazuko Oshima was not only a talented Jeweler, an amazing artist and as she would always say our very own “dadaist” but she was also a true friend and supporter of not only CulturalBlahBlah, not only my life and dreams but of creativity and the human spirit. She believed that young creative talent would be our future and that we all need to foster that talent and follow our hearts in order to be happy. It has taken me a while to write anything on this topic and honestly what I feel can’t be said so much in words but everyone should know what she meant to the people who’s lives she was a part of. She was a true inspiration, mentor and teacher and her spirit will continue to live on not only in her amazing jewelry but also in our hearts and minds. Everyone who carries a piece of her jewelry will carry of piece of Kazuko’s spirit to inspire and guide them through life. Thank you Kazuko for all your guidance, your believing in me and my dreams and especially for being my friend.
With love,
n
Please read the following article by Simon Doonan, the creative director of Barney’s New York, from last week in the New York Observer. It’s not only beautiful but he communicates what so many of us have trouble saying. Bravo Simon.
Sayonara, Sweet Kazuko: Jewelry Designer, Loveable Kook
also:
NYT: Kazuko Oshima, Designer of Stone Jewelry, Dies at 65ÂÂ
All emotions are pain.
OR Save the drama for your mama.
I hit yuppie rock bottom. Standing on the platform of the 6 train at Grand Central. After work, in my suit, underground, I thought it was all over for me, pointless. Yuppie rock bottom elaborated is the general feeling of helplessness after a survey of the results of your life efforts. Lamenting my general lack of equity in my own life; no equity in real estate, relationships, career, what did all that effort, talking and loving, grad school, and late nights at the office in my twenties really add up to? Just when the cold rushing metal train whooshed us all up in its frenzy, I was considering ending it all and stepping out too early. Before the train came to a halt, the air stilled and a guitar echoed through the subway cave. Strangely rare in the subway, it was a guy playing the Blues, not a Chinese harp or a doo-wop group, but the Blues, slowly. And like molasses, it coated my brain and heart, soothing me with its own earthy sadness. I thought, here I am at my lowest and, wow, the Blues really do actually make you feel better when youre down. Really down. Blue. Which was just distracting enough to give the train enough time to let me enter it rather than be plowed by it. Being present in that moment saved me, and once again in my life, music saved me too.
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I. All emotions are pain.
OR Save the drama for your mama.
I hit yuppie rock bottom. Standing on the platform of the 6 train at Grand Central. After work, in my suit, underground, I thought it was all over for me, pointless. Yuppie rock bottom elaborated is the general feeling of helplessness after a survey of the results of your life’s efforts. Lamenting my general lack of equity in my own life; no equity in real estate, relationships, career, what did all that effort, talking and loving, grad school, and late nights at the office in my twenties really add up to? Just when the cold rushing metal train whooshed us all up in its frenzy, I was considering ending it all and stepping out too early. Before the train came to a halt, the air stilled and a guitar echoed through the subway cave. Strangely rare in the subway, it was a guy playing the Blues, not a Chinese harp or a doo-wop group, but the Blues, slowly. And like molasses, it coated my brain and heart, soothing me with its own earthy sadness. I thought, here I am at my lowest and, wow, the Blues really do actually make you feel better when you’re down. Really down. Blue. Which was just distracting enough to give the train enough time to let me enter it rather than be plowed by it. Being present in that moment saved me, and once again in my life, music saved me too.
Continue reading ‘Buddha and the Blues by Tiffany Stevens’
