How would you describe your Sunday?
I give Sunday as a day for myself to slow down before the busy week ahead. I take things a little slower, catch up on any remaining tasks from the previous week and sometimes have a little 'treat yourself' pick-me-up. There's something amazing about a Sunday afternoon that provides a space to exist and no where to be.
What is special about Sundays for you? What are the three things that you spoil yourself on this particular day?
Although most couples go out on a weekend night - my husband and I save our date nights for Sundays, as the crowds have usually come and gone. This typically includes some sort of french fries, margarita or a Thai restaurant. I also spend most of my Sunday afternoons hanging out in the back yard with our two huskies, Phoenix and Woodrow.
What book do you recommend for a slow Sunday morning?
This question my be a little unorthodox for me, as my typical reading includes a mixture of design, fashion magazines and art history books. Sometimes it's nice to step back from the digital world and allow for myself to be immersed in new concepts or re-learning things. Whether it's from old art history books laying around my studio or new art books that I've just picked up / can't wait to dive into - I am constantly striving to learn as much as possible about my trade. Between those various books and sitting on our back porch with a cup of coffee - my Sunday mornings are typically quiet and slow in the best of ways.
Could you share some stories from the most memorable weekend you had?
Hmmm, my most favorite weekend would be really tough. I have a lot of treasured weekends in my immediate memories from various places / times in my life. These memories often come from both the big things and the mundane, quiet ones. I travel a lot - both for work and personal endeavors. It fuels me and also gives a backdrop to many of my favorite stories / research for upcoming projects. While in Europe this week, my sister, mother and I all met in Boston before heading to Denmark. When we began the check-in process we quickly discovered that my sister's passport had expired the month before. After a moment of panic, we rushed outside, grabbed a cab and headed straight for the passport agency. After four hours of haphazardly running around downtown Boston for pictures, documentation and waiting in lines - we somehow managed to meet the flight with ten minutes to spare. In stark contrast to that, my other memory that stands out from our recent trip was driving along the winding roads through the mountains of Croatia, blaring music and singing to old 90's hits (while also laughing at what atrocious singers we all are). I hope that moment, and others of the sort, stick with me for years to come.