a visit to soufriere.

On one of the last days in Saint Lucia, I visited the town of Soufriere.

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My hotel was located in the hills above the small city. From above, the coastal town looked picturesque. Pastel hued dots of homes quilted the shoreline nestled between lush green hills and the grand Pitons in the distance.

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Up close, when these dots came into focus, the reality was less picturesque. Many houses were in a state of disrepair, exasperated by the horrific storm that hit the Caribbean on Christmas Eve causing massive mud slides and flooding.

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Yet despite any damage, each home retained a sense of cheer. Brightly painted shutters flanked broken windows, vibrant lace curtains floated in the gentle breeze, cheery Christmas lights wove between the streets, and hopeful hand-painted messages added personality to door frames and wood siding.

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The homes pictured here were particularly captivating. Each had a strong sense of personality - a sadness but also an optimism - that I am hoping to capture in some paintings down the road.

Shot in Soufriere, Saint Lucia. All photos by Nicole Weiler.

new beginnings.

The beginning of a new year tends to encourage a time for self reflection. As one year comes to a close, one considers the lessons learned over the past twelve months, evaluates the goals that were achieved that year, and contemplates what is ahead in the coming year.

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I had plenty of time to reflect on these topics over the holidays. Following a very exciting and busy November and December (that left little time for blogging... and more importantly sleeping), I escaped to Saint Lucia for a much needed break from reality.

With its relaxing sandy beaches, warm aqua water, and absolutely stunning sunsets, Saint Lucia provided me with the perfect environment to reflect and recuperate.

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I realized that 2013 taught me two incredibly important lessons:

1. Appreciate and acknowledge the Now.

2. I have complete control over my success and happiness.

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I look forward to all of the wonderful things 2014 will bring - and that I will create.

After all, to quote scientist Alan Kay: "The best way to predict the future is to invent it."

Shot in Saint Lucia. All photos by Nicole Weiler.

coming undone.

Ribbons have always fascinated me. Light bounces off the curves of a twirled or twisted silky strand, glowing electric white at the peaks and darkening deeply in the valleys. This high contrast of light and dark makes the ribbon one of my most favorite subjects to draw.

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At the Jean Paul Gaultier exhibit at The Brooklyn Museum of Art, I was struck by an exquisitely-made corset sewn together with salmon silk ribbon.

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Ballooning over a woman's hips, blossoming above her full breasts, the ribbons in the corset highlight and accentuate the beauty of the female form. The corset is both delicate and tough at the same time; the sensual, curvilinear lines in the garment are balanced by a tightly bound, hard lacing that shapes the body into near-impossible ideals. Tightly wound at top and spilling into beautiful chaos below.

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She is bathed in pink luxury, exuding a strong, confident sexuality... while still retaining a touch of vulnerability as she comes undone.

Shot at the Brooklyn Museum of Art. All photos by Nicole Weiler.

treasures at home.

The holiday season is officially upon us. A time centered around family, friends, and giving thanks.

Working in the fine jewelry industry, the end of November and the month of December make up the busiest time of the year. Orders pour in as people design sentimental gifts for their loved ones, the calendar becomes jam packed with often overlapping appointments, and weekends are spent traveling outside Manhattan for private trunk shows.

Little time has been left for blogging. However, I did manage to play around with my camera over Thanksgiving.

The holiday was spent at my late grandparents' home in New Jersey. For as long as I can remember, most family events have been hosted here. This year was special as it will probably be the last time that my relatives gather at the memory-filled estate.

The house is a treasure trove of small oddities, antique (often mismatched) furniture, vintage newspapers and magazines, beautiful 1950's wallpaper (also occasionally mismatched within the same room), old photographs, heirloom paintings and cross stitches... The list goes on.

Every table top, corner, and wall is littered with mementos from the very full life my grandparents lived. Photographs tell stories of past family get togethers, small figurines littered between painted china recall special travel experiences, the click of a typewriter evokes the spirit of my grandmother, the writer.

Beauty abounds throughout the entire home. I hope to discover more inspiration as my family continues to rummage through its relics.

beauty above and below.

Clouds are captivating. Constantly billowing across the vast skyline, rolling and tumbling with the breeze, transforming into curls and ribbons, these fluffy abstractions can entertain for hours and be read like Rorschach ink blots.

With my feet planted firmly upon the Earth, I am always looking up, admiring the view. While in flight, I am glued to the window, eating up the feast laid out for my eyes as the plane soars towards the heavens.

This past week I was fortunate to travel to San Francisco to work a private show. And while the clouds still held my attention, the world below also caught my eye.

Grid-like patterns formed by tiny pinpricks of light glowed beneath me. Snaky white rivers wound their way through quilted blocks of green and brown farmland. Orange curlicues of earth punctuated the deep cobalt sea and brown mountains rippled across the plains.

Nature's majesty can certainly take one's breath away.

And upon arriving at my destination, I discovered that the view from there wasn't too bad either.

chris' cape cod tomatoes.

Beauty is present in the simplest of things. Over the summer I was inspired by the humble beauty in a cluster of freshly-picked, juicy-red  tomatoes. Resting atop a crisp white tablecloth with bright blue lines dancing across its folds, the tomatoes glowed in the warm afternoon light.

I have been painting with pastels for almost fifteen years. Growing up, I spent my summers training one-on-one with artist Rosalie Nadeau in Cape Cod. A talented and thoughtful mentor, Rose taught me to truly see light, shadow, and the complexities of color.

Pastels are pure pigment. Rich sticks of color that can be layered, blended, and manipulated to capture the splendor of the natural world. When painting, I utilize my color palette to express the presence of my subject, the general feel of the moment as I experience it, the fleeting luminosity of light as it colors the scene before me.

There is a beauty and a sadness in the painting process. The painter races to capture the impossible, a brief moment of time that passes instantly and immediately becomes something new. Light fades, flowers wilt, a breeze alters the arch of a branch.

Nothing is permanent. Every moment is important.

past treasures.

A few weekends ago I made an impromptu trip to Brattleboro, VT and Keane, NH. The original intention behind the trek was to search for ideas and inspiration with the area's small artist-jewelers. Instead, I ended up stumbling upon the most incredible treasures in an old junk shop and discovering an unexpected beauty in the weathered paint of a brick wall and an old chair.

Older things have always appealed to me. Well-loved trunks add character (and provide necessary extra storage space) to my East Village apartment, tiny colored glass prescription bottles litter my shelves, brightly patterned vintage rugs line my floors.

Old things have a sense of history, of character, of identity. There is a story behind them, one that you may never know. And my love for vintage extends beyond my home decor. Vintage items have increasingly become a major part of my wardrobe.

I love to think of who owned the fabulous 1960's leather bag I chance upon at the flea market. Was the woman who owned it an artist? What adventures did she go on with the bag in tow? Did she store love letters in the inside pocket?

Perhaps my love of vintage shopping is deep down inspired by a yearning for the past, a quest to connect with another time and place, an opportunity to create new stories with history-rich pieces.

Bottles shot in Brattleboro, VT. Painted brick wall and weathered wooden chair shot in Keane, NH. All photos by Nicole Weiler.