buttercup...

I had this professor in college. His name was Candidari Sheshishari. And I have no idea if I just spelled that right.  Dr. Sheshishari taught English literature, Shakespeare to be exact. He was all of five feet tall with no hair on his head but plenty to spare tufting out of his ears.

Dr. Sheshishari was a delightful little man with a thick accent and a big heart.  He is the one professor that stands out in my mind. He hated, I mean hated, store  bought cards.  It seems that every lecture somehow circled around to the fact that if you have something to say to someone, you should write it yourself.  He would rattle off simple love poems to encourage us to wax poetic to our loved one.  Every example started with "Buttercup...".

Me thinks he must have called his wife this in their tender moments.  

And although I learned a lot from Dr. Sheshishari, and I do write sweet nothings to my Buttercup, I have decided that buying cards isn't a crime. 

I am creating a few cards for Moselle complete with sentiments.  However,  the "Buttercup" card will come blank in his honor.

They will be available for purchase very soon. I'll keep you posted.

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Update: His name is spelled Candadai Seshachari and here he is:

Love that little guy.

moselle: chapter the second

The rain came down in big gloppy drops and she saw no end in site.

The cab driver was middle eastern and smelled of curry and bitter tobacco. They didn't speak. She watched the drops slide down the window leaving snail trails. Her feet hurt more today than usual. The bills felt moist in her hands. She looked down at them and wondered how many miles they had traveled before landing in her possession.

Such an extravagance. A cab ride.

She paused before fitting the key into the lock. She put her ear to the door. She listened, but heard nothing.

Alas, her little finches were fast asleep, cuddled up on the far side of the perch leaving the apartment silent and uninviting. She opened the sealed note she had found slipped under her door and read it while she kicked off her shoes.

Miss Moselle,


Please note that all tenants are now required to personally transport their own trash to West side of the building. Fritz will no longer be making rounds to gather trash, he will, however, continue to collect glass milk and soda bottles.


As a courtesy to Mrs. Havenbell on the second floor, please do not ring the bell for entry past the hour of nine p.m.


Thank you,


Management

She sat on the chaise next to the window with her legs curled up underneath her.  The room was fairly stark. Decorating on a beginners salary would take time. The damask wall paper would have to wait.  But she had her birds and her chaise. And now she had a warm bowl of macaroni and cheese which was a guilty pleasure from her childhood.  

And it made her miss her mother. Her mother who painted every wall in their family home gold and adorned them with blue and white Delft plates.  Oh how she had hated her mother's style growing up. But now, well now she would give anything to spend a day in her mother's warm kitchen, watching her  prepare a banketstaaf, sipping peppermint tea.

And she realized something there in her empty apartment, on her chaise next to the window with the rain drops softly pattering.

Her mother's style is true. Never changing. Steady and welcoming. It radiated directly from the heart of a gentle woman with love to give.  

The empty bowl and spoon sat on the chaise. The finches were waking, stretching their wings. 

The Delft tea cups her mother had given her were located and given a new home on the mantle. 

And she felt a little closer to home, a little more comfortable in her own skin.

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Need help creating a blog that has your true authentic style? We can help. 

Please visit Moselle Design Studios.

regarding moselle

"Style is the mind skating circles around itself as it moves forward" -Robert Frost

The man behind the desk asked her a simple question and yet her mind raced and stumbled and she wondered where to begin.

"Yes,and what is your personal sense of style Miss?"

"Well, I...I am, I mean I like, which is to say, I gravitate towards things, or rather, items, that say, well not "say" in a literal way but in a figurative way, that say well...this."

And she laid her well loved album gingerly on the desk and turned it to face the man.

"Miss Moselle?" he asked bewildered by this strange answer to his stock question.

"This is me, well not me, but everything I love. Photos and things I've collected over the years..." Her voice trailed off.

The man looked down at the album and tentatively opened the first page to a new world.

1. Untitled, 2. yellow, 3. if wishes were horses, 4. LULALAND, 5. books, 6. Untitled, 7. Swedish "slagbaenk", 8. WINDMILL, 9. version II, 10. Untitled, 11. 1800s Lettering Sketchbook, image 14, 12. vintagebird02, 13. Yale Joel for LIFE, 14. Untitled, 15. one letter - M, 16. card letter o, 17. Door detail, 18. E, 19. L, 20. L on a door, 21. E & ivy, 22. whidbey., 23. untitled, 24. untitled, 25. tim walker dip, 26. suitcases, 27. flapper - Ziegfeld Girl 4, 28. isabelle, 29. yellow door "Moss Norway", 30. knitted dress, 31. made some boxes, 32. undeniably, she felt cornered., 33. Untitled, 34. photo3, 35. art wall

Moselle Design

hello, my name is moselle

There something I haven't told you yet.

It's been a quasi secret for the last few months.

It's nearly killed me to keep my mouth shut. You know how excitable I am over all my creative ventures.

Introducing Moselle.

She's a little website design company that we just launched this past weekend at the Casual Blogger Conference. And speaking of that, if you missed it this year, I'm so very sorry for your loss. Hopefully you will make it next year. My condolences.

What's that you ask? Who's the "we" that did this launching? Lemme tell ya.

We are a pastiche*. We are a group of artists and designers and geeky computer geniuses that came together with a big idea.

We want to beautify the world of web design. We want to put individual personality into web sites and blogs. We want to hear about you and what you are all about. And then we want to create you, in website form.

Oh, and we want really good snacks at our company meetings.

Lately people have been personally contacting me about doing custom illustrations for a web based business or blog. After I get over the shock that someone out there actually wants to do something cool with my doodles, I do the macaraina in my living room which in turn causes the Boy to say, "You're weird Mom."

If you are one of these very kindhearted, if not somewhat crazy, people who want me to illustrate for you, please know that if you hire Moselle to beautify your place on the web you will have me at your beck and call, sketching away. You want a scottie dog- done. A fat lady with a pie- done. A naked mud flap girl? Um, just who do you think I am anyway? I do have standards, contrary to popular belief. For shame.

I created a new flickr group called, of course, "Pastiche". I want it to be a place of reference for inspiration and collaboration. A spring board for ideas. Please click on over and upload photos of your personal style. I personally want to see who you are.

Okay here's the deal. We want to help you, yeah you, reading this. If you dream of a blog or website that represents you and your personality we want to hear from you. Like, we really want to hear from you.


Contact us. You won't be disappointed.

* Pastiche: noun 1. a literary, artistic, or musical composition made up of bits from various sources; potpourri 2. a jumbled mixture; hodgepodge 3. the coolest freakin' word in the English language