Twitter:ohmymelli

Am I ‘eccentric”?  Maybe.  Do I get points for admitting it?  Yes.

Everyday, after school, I’d look up into the sky ~ and plead for stupidity to reign down on me, for ignorance to take over my mind, and for shallow, lackluster  emotion, to encompass my very being.  Please.  I beg you ~ help me be a dumb ass. 

Despite being able to always, (indeed I do mean ALL WAYS, ALWAYS, and IN EVERY WHICH WAY POSSIBLE), figure out how get exactly what I (or another) wanted or needed, the whole, being a crack head, wasn’t something I could manifest.   I’m not a stupid idiot.  Unfortunately, my demise is my kind heartedness.

The me that lures the world into my arms, is the me I’d run far away from at a moments notice.  

“Compassion is stellar in it’s frantic, yet seductive, creation of pain”. 

"If It Aint Broke ~ Don't Fix It". But what if it sucks?

Twitter:ohmymelli

"If it aint broke ~ don't fix it"... but what if "it" sucks?
     
         In "The Devil Wears Prada", Meryl Streep states simply "That's all".   Despite the calm,  even civilized tone of her voice, you can't help suddenly feeling like a giant, wrought iron, gate has been shut, locked in twelve places, and will forever remain so.  The possibility for other opportunities is struck down, and upon hearing either of the above statements, most will continue going through life's motions ~ with no emotion at all.   So what if it's not broken?  What if it sucks, or it's too large, or too small?  "Just because it isn't broken, doesn't mean it's working properly for YOU".   The question transforms then into a choice.  Your choice in which you give yourself the right to seek out something better.  My jeans don't fit properly, they aren't torn, old, too big or small, they just don't fit.
        SELL THEM, TOSS THEM, GIVE THEM AWAY ~ AND GET YOURSELF A PAIR THAT WORKS
 "If it aint broke ~ don't fix it".    If truly it sucks though, figure out how to change it.

Stay alive, stay passionate, be safe, respect yourself, and don't ever tell anybody to kiss your ass ~ don't give them the pleasure.
Quite Kindly,
       Melissa
    

Helicopters are from Mars.

twitter:ohmymelli

HELICOPTERS ARE FROM MARS, AIRPLANES ARE FROM VENUS.

Airplane #1
"I'm so so so going to be so so mad in about two minutes!!!"

Airplane #2
"Oh tell me he didn't say something about your wingspan ~Again?!?"

Airplane #1
"He so totally did!! As a kind of a lift off before work to make me smile he said. I'm sorry make me SMILE??!! Is he kidding me are you serious? Am I being stupid or am I right in being so friggin upset?"

Airplane #2
" Woman I can see the smoke starting to come outta your engines. You better relax before you full on take off. Although man the wingspan...AGAIN? Yeah girl I'm with you...what an bunch of useless metal!"

Airplane #1
"He is so going down I'm done that's it...what an ass!!!".

Airplane #2
"Be careful sweetie... Fly safe I'm with you in spirit. In hanger 6 when you get back..."

Airplane #1
Screaming as she hustles down the runway. "that good for nothin metal madness ... What'd I ever see in him anyways...oh my gosh what was I thinking...ok ok ok deep breathing..."
Calms down...wheels gracefully glide upward and take their place in her belly.

Helicopter #1
"Dude you really me turned her wingspan again? Youn going down today you mow that right?"

Helicopter #2
"Cheers to another day off in the clouds bro! Later!". Sun is out, slight ocean breeze, he lifts off, without any drama, and goes about his day. ;)

I rest my case. I much prefer the helicopters. Or more accurately, (an exception holds true for every rule) I prefer the "Mellicopter". No drama, no extra nonsense... Just get up and go go juice.

Chateau My Melli ~ Hoot N' Anny Home

Twitter:ohmymelli

               And...Fire, Ready, Aim!  Kaboom!   I waved my wand and "poof" we're in the new house, I have a new Studio space...and already, puzzle piece's that've  so very long been absent, have begun to sneak into their proper places.   I've somewhat drifted into the enchanting air that has encompassed this house.     It's completely intoxicating.   While getting up in the morning is easy,  forcing myself to leave  has become ridiculously difficult. 
               There is a shop my sister discovered, one truly unique in it's atmosphere.  It's an antique shop...but there is no clutter.  There is a sense of something wonderful that calls silently to you the moment you open the door.  It's fantastically creative, yet it's one hundred percent logical, and every piece, every display, each table top is perfectly functional.  The kicker here, is the owner.  This woman is like a fairy godmother...   She can literally wave a wand, snap her fingers, say boo, and in ten minutes, she'll either completely transform your space, or tell you exactly how it can be done.  Your style, your desire, and even your budget.   She's creatively witty and quicker on her toes than a cheetah.  She just moves.  She's stealthy in her calm ways.  Things all of a sudden look different but more so, the entire space, from a tiny bathroom to a giant ballroom, will feel different.  The mood is different.  It's soothing, yet workable.  It's been said that artists look like their subjects.  They bare a resemblance of sorts.  They bring forward their own energy into whatever it is they are using it toward.  When Jennifer uses this outrageous talent, naturally,  the air will feel  different.  Better.  More relaxed.  You will feel and be, more composed, more capable, and more productive.   The most fun part is the glow you'll absentmindedly carry around with you.  It's truly like magic has happened.     So, I bought one book from her, and went back every day for the next three weeks.  It's like a sweet siren this store.  You should absolutely take a peek.  www.HootNannyHome.com is the site.  The store is in Southern California, so if your around, give Jennifer a call, and see...Trust me.  ;)  (818) 575-9011.
Below is a handful of photos.  The first set are a combination of pieces from Hoot N Anny and yours truly.

This second set is just a handful of sketches I felt like sharing... Also the first few I've done in my new Studio.

The next handful are just me...before, during and after the move.  :)
First one...ok deep breath...

Next one, I'm almost done packing...So close!

And last one, I'm here!  Totally wiped out...not nearly done unpacking...pre-Jennifer :)

On that Pearl of wisdom...Good night, Dream sweetly, Good morning, it's ten after four here...oops.
Quite Kindly, Meliss

Roxy, Reagan, and jeans...because I can.

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    "That one, " he stated, quite obviously, pointing to me.  " The little one in the silver top".  His friends all looked.  "She's the cutie".    He continued.  "See the one's behind her though ... those are the hotties".    The Roxy on it's way to closing this past Saturday night/Sunday Morning.   "The little one's got a gorgeous face... her body could be cool, but she's in jeans".     Between the brilliance of his mind,  lack of functioning brain to mouth filtration system, and the slight buzz, it would in fact seem, this guy had been honest in sharing (loudly) his opinion.    As approved by his friends,  I'm little, cute, and have a gorgeous face in jeans.  Mini skirt and tube top?  You couldn't pay me.  Why?  Because I can do it in jeans.
    That night, lead singer, Reagan Browne wore a pendant I made for him.  On stage.  At the Roxy.  On THE Sunset strip.  In Hollywood.   Rock on.

Check out ReaganBrowne.com  

Kelsey G. meets Melli D...

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       It's Christmas Eve, and the fifth night of Hannukah...almost.     The "holiday season".    Today, the "Magic" wasn't about the holidays though.  

      "Oh hey, he's here again".  Sitting outside a local cafe, I looked up.  The "he" being referred to was Kelsey Grammer.   Somebody I will always remember as Dr. Frasier Crane.  

      With it’s spot on timing, quick wit, and Ivy League vocabulary, Frasier will remain forever, fantastic.  The uncanny ability to cause laughter from a simple raising of one’s eyebrow, is nothing less than…well…magic.  ;)  Though the characters themselves had OCD beyond many of our wildest dreams, it was somehow endearing, and wildly addictive.  The charm in the series was, and remains, one of a kind.  FYI: I happen to be exceedingly picky in what I would refer to as “funny”. 

        Two weeks ago, out of the tiniest corner of my eye, I noticed a side view of him.   When your out about town, and you see “somebody” even if you don’t know exactly who he or she is, there’s that sparkle, the energy that surrounds him or her?  Something, right?  For me, it’s a tingle in my tummy.  After hearing various rumors about his possible personality, I’m ashamed to say the idea of seeing him was preposterous, he probably hired people to do everything right?  Wrong!   Twice more that same day, we had Kelsey sightings.  Holy smokestacks…REALLY???

        So then, today, after hearing the hushed “Oh hey”, I decided what the hell.  I set my coffee down, and went into the shop he’d gone into.  Shaking.  As luck would have it, he’d put his head down, glasses on, and was obviously looking to NOT be interrupted.  Hi though, remember?  This is me here!  

        In my very small voice, in a language I can only hope was English, I went right up and said “Pardon me, Mr.Grammer”?  For a split second I felt disheveled and completely blank as to who I was, where I was, and whose feet I might have been standing on…  He looked down, oh yes, he is THAT tall, and when he saw me, ( cartwheels, cartwheels, cartwheels) he smiled!  I died.  He said something polite, “Yes, hello…”  Oh my heavens, somehow, a light must have shone down on me because suddenly, I had balls.  I put my hand straight out to shake his, and introduced myself, calmly, rationally, yet still soft spoken.  And he was SOOOO nice!   After telling him I’d always adored watching Frasier, in just a couple of sentences, he actually thanked me for taking the time to stop him and say hi! 

         Ok, yes, he has a new show out, he wants to look good, he has to protect his image…oh bologna.  Sometimes you just know right?   This man was sincerely being nice to me.  Kind even, and not in a creepy I want your body way.  Genuinely smiling, and I was out of my mind stoked!

     Walking briskly so as not to actually be bouncing until I was out of sight, I got to the door…almost.  I grabbed a business card, and ran back over…this time, a bit out of breath, and told him I make custom jewelry, and after “gifting” so many piece’s to who knows where, I’d be more than happy to make something for him, as of course, he played one of my most favorite characters, and turned out to be a really delightful man. 

       TO DO LIST:

       GET NEW BUSINESS CARDS.

       PUT WARDROBE ON THEM.

       ADD MENS CUSTOM PHOTO’S TO WEBSITE.

       BREATHE.

       LEARN THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE…AGAIN.

     There is an enchantment about Hollywood.   Being made to feel stupid, or intrusive or un-welcome upon meeting a celebrity whom you adore, is embarrassing, annoying, and humiliating I’d imagine.  Having the opposite experience, especially with somebody whose reputation your uncertain of…  Now THAT is the real “Magic of Hollywood”.  A tip to anybody reading this…be nice, it doesn’t always hurt.  And to Mr.Grammer, if ever you do cross this posting, I thank you quite kindly for being such a gentleman.

       Merry Merry Christmas Cherry, and Happy Fifth Night of Lights...(although now it's far past midnight, and so closing in on the sixth)

               Quite Kindly, Mell

      

Sour Patch Kids, Two Secrets, and an Apple a Day. ;)

melli@melliinc.com

 "SourPatch Kids" mark the spot.   The sweet and the sour that together, make up life.
       Sweet Secret:  It's always fascinated and elated me, to open the pages of a high end fashion magazine, and see the ad's, designs, colors, even the people, that a year prior, I knew would be there.
       I cannot see dead people...but if you needed me to pull together a collection, say for a new TV show...and have it ready tomorrow, and have it air a year from now... I't'd be nothing less than a straight on bulls eye.
       Sour Secret:  I'm really and truly kick-ass fantastic at getting it done right.  Ten minutes, ten actors, ten ill-fitting ball~gowns?  Bring it.  It's sour because it's not something "I want", rather it's something I'm good at, passionate about, and quite frankly, "I need".
       There you have it, apparently, I'm a Sour Patch Kid.
       A very well respected member of the community who, interestingly enough, is not on the way into, or out of jail, said something today that provoked me into sharing the above secrets, and below photo's.       After speaking with a very "big deal dude" at CBS, she gave me the advice he'd passed along.  "Get as much work as you can and buff up a resume".     Wow...such insight...this guy certainly eats his apple a day.
        I do apologize.  I adore, and respect greatly this woman, but am beginning to understand why this man has gotten the reputation of being an idiotic jack-ass.
       
         FYI: She did not tell me her friend's name, it's just my own gut feeling that  it was this particular man.
           I'd barely rang the bell this afternoon when she asked if I'd seen...and I cut her off.  "The Prada ad in Harpers?  Yeah I know.  The roses right?  Did you see the other ones, with the pearls? "  I'm not sure it's "allowed" to put up other designers' ads.  Therefor, YOU HAVE HOMEWORK.  ;)  Look at Chanel's Winter 2011/2012 collection online, Dior, Lanvin (try the Bergdorf's site)  and the November or December issue of Harpers Bazaar.  Oh!  And the January (I think) issue of Nylon Magazine too.  Pretty please, and thank you quite kindly ;)   Then take a look at these:

Quite Kindly,
Mell


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