Saturday, March 23, 2002

Sir Ian McKellen is my new creative inspiration. Did you catch him on Saturday Night Live last week, a whirling dervish of comedy? Sure, he's sonorous and impressive as Gandalf, but I'll not soon forget his turn as Dame Maggie Smith, where he snipes his way through Oscar predictions...and then gives the adorable Jimmy Fallon a big wet kiss at the end.

Thursday, March 14, 2002

Too Much Coffee Man. A head full of coffee, and a heart full of troubles. Isn't that always the way?

Yes, of course e-mail me.

Marie is my coach, leading me into temptation, and kicking my butt a little while I do it. I know, I know, coaching can sound a little ESTy, ForumLandmarky, or alternately, Bobby Knightish. (Beware of guys over 50 who are still using the diminutive form of their name, I say.) But it's a great method (at least for me) to explore just what the hell I'm on this earth for, and how much more of it can I get going. Marie is deeply fun, and also quite fond of MAC cosmetics. Check out her site.

Marie Forleo rocks

Something weird seems to be happening when I try to put in links. For right now, I am HTML-impaired. Or impaled.

Anyhow, my friend's name is Jessica Pallingston (what a great, bigger than life name), and you should buy her book.

Tonight, I ran four times around the Hoboken Pier A Park, which is almost directly across from what was the World Trade Center. The towers of light are beautiful, even though, from our point of view, you can only see one. The light seems to go on forever, solid, then evanescent. I flung out my arms as I ran, trying to take it all in. Meanwhile, there were lots of people in the park--it was an exquisite night, a running-in-t-shirt kind of night, and I think the park just called to people...and the light. The amazing light.

The first time I saw the light, it made me sad---I was standing on Sixth Avenue, and it was the first night. People were stopping on corners, as they had on 9/11, and they were just..staring. The light seemed weak. There was barely any moonlight, and the beams themselves seemed dull.

Now, already, they feel like an institution. A terribly sad one, but still there.

Wednesday, March 13, 2002

Anyway, this is where you can find her wondrous book, which includes lipstick recipes--that's how to make lipstick, not how to incorporate lipstick into your diet. (Make mine MAC.)

Hello, world.

This is it. This is the one. This is the blog that I'm going to keep up, stick in juicy links, rant to my heart's content.

I'm Martha and while I don't really know everything, I do love to tell people about cool stuff I love, and where they can find it.

My friend Peggy calls me "human hypertext."

Today I'd like to tell you about my friend Jessica, who has written an amazing book about the history of lipstick. Jessica and I used to work at Warner Brothers, where she helped grease the wheels of the mighty movie development world, and I read book after book after book, many of them, um, very bad, in hopes of finding One True Movie book. Along the way we talked about men, lipstick, apartments (Jessica had the moving gene). We lost touch. Then she wrote this book, which includes a psychoanalysis of the shape of your lipstick. Are you a blunt end, or a pointy end? Sloped on one side, or even? It is all so complex, yes?