You begin noticing them before you reach the beach: The opalescent baby blue cruiser with pink rims and white walls in front of the yoga studio on Main Street, its flip-flop-wearing owner removing her mat from its wicker basket. The matte black and solid chrome cruisers, draped with young men in mesh-back caps clustered outside the local dive on Washington Boulevard. At Windward Avenue an art grrl in thrift-store couture pedals past, a Paul Frank monkey mugging from her bike’s shiny red frame. These days is seems beach cruisers catch your eye everywhere you go in Venice, even at the beach.
When I work with clients I do emotional archaeology with them. I want to discover what feeds their souls. I’ll use any tool that deepens our dialogue or informs the design — feng shui, astrology, bioenergetics, reiki. My goal is to create spaces that transcend material properties and fulfill complex human needs, spaces that support people…
Who doesn’t find the idea of an event named Large, Dangerous Rocket Ships intoxicating? The moment I heard it, I was sold. I wouldn’t have cared if the next thing I heard was that it was held on a barren wasteland in the middle of nowhere. Which is a good thing because that’s the next thing I heard…
You’re a writer. You’ve spent months, even years, slaving away in solitude to transform a great idea into a Great American Novel. And you’ve succeeded. Critics love it. Readers love it. Hollywood luuuvs it and proves just how much by forking over megabucks for the screen rights.
Alison and Trevor were living together and considering marriage when Trevor’s sister Yvette — a single mom — was killed. Though he and Alison had been together eight months, they took in Yvette’s 4-year-old son, Donovan. But with Trevor nearly incapacitated by grief, the two were soon overwhelmed by their new responsibilities and conflicting parenting styles.