February is Heart Month!

It’s heart month!!!!  Hearts are hella-cool organs–by the end of your life it may have beat 3.5 BILLION TIMES.  That little organ in the middle of your chest pumps 100 gallons of blood through your body EVERY HOUR.  Simply incredible, and sounds like a lot of work,  so you’ve got to take care of that guy.

If you’re feeling the after affects of your Super Bowl chow-down, take a hint from those big ol’ men on the field- put on some tight pants- and get active.  Here at design school we aren’t known for our sporty lifestyles-we are busy dip-dying curtains or whatever…- We are, however, known for looking pretty hip, well usually.  According to Mindy Kaling, my guru for all things, (and some other really smart gals) getting dressed to work out, even way before you work out, helps get you in the mind set to hit the gym.  So we’ve gotten in the mode to wear our sexiest sweats to schoolio.  So pump some iron to keep your blood-pumper pumped up.  (what?)

ALSO- some tunes related to hearts, since, why not.

February is Heart Month!


If you follow me on Spotify you are probably like “Oh Lizzi is listening to Cold War Kids again.”  I have no shame in this.  I could listen to Dear Miss Lonely Hearts on repeat for hours.  So I listened to it, and drew some shapes.  Also, below is a video they did 6 months back with Stella Artois.  Shit’s legit.


Slim + Shady

Sometimes Monday’s need a little oomph to get ya’ going.  I pretend I am Eminem when I need to –Lose Myself– in my work. Here are the things Marshall Mathers and I have in common:

  • Cool glasses
  • We are both slim + shady
  • We both like bagels. (Probably).
  • We were both in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (this weekend).
  • We’re from the Midwest.

This is how I dress up like him to really get in the mood. My mom said I look like a cat burglar, which by the way is someone who enters by climbing to an upper story, so she must think im limber.

Slim + Shady


I’m aware that some of my friends (I’m looking at your on the West Coast) consider us here in Ohio as a flyover state, or one large farm, or maybe just as a bunch of Ohio-state-and-Lebron-worshipping-droolers.  Yay sports!  As small as our simple state may be, this weekend was my first ever venture to the North Coast (Rock and Roll Capital, yay music!)

Although the middle of January may not have been the ideal time for such a venture, it was still a quality time.  I tried a Happy Dog with a questionable yet delicious combo of peanutbutter, “alien relish”, and Sriracha; beaucoup tater tots with even more sauces, and 15 probiotics.

– The Museum of Contemporary Arts was in between galleries, but entertained us long enough to regain feeling in our fingers.

– Case Western’s Frank Gehry building was cute, (not as cute as ours, go bearcats!)                                                                   – The Cleveland Museum of Art was super badass and also had outlets for my tweeny sister to charge her snapchatting machine.

– The Rock and Roll Hallf of Fame blew my mind, and made me want to go spin records for hours.  (See: Paul Simon says Graceland is his best song, I don’t disagree)

– My Great Uncle turned 90.  I asked him for advice on a happy life, he said “Love More.”  Dig that.

All this Rock and Roll made me realize how much I’ve been in to Rocks and Rolls lately.  I know.  But seriously.  I’ve been drooling over so many random rocks, in the forms of earrings and bidding on book ends (take away the wine…).  And realized I had 3 layers of rolled arms on last night.  Because what isn’t sophisticated-fun about rolling up your sleeves and playing in the ground (or ebay)?

rock and roll

1. Don’t outbid me, I swear. 2 + 3.  Somewhere between this khaki-wearing babe and this hipster man, I roll. (ha?)
4. LOVE this Etsy shop from OHIO that gives back!

Peace, love, rock and roll!!



CHANNELING: José González

I’d like to marry this man.  Something about his voice and gentle strumming of his guitar puts me at ease unlike any other musician.  I’m also positive that seeing him play with Junip at Bonnaroo a few years back changed my life.

Also, he’s Swedish, which is Sweet-ish.  Stop it

Might I suggest for your listening pleasures:

Solo–Down the Line, Heartbeats

Junip– Without You, Your Life Your Call and Line of Fire, which are a pair of music videos, super creepy and awesome, surrounding an old man’s relationship choices.  oOoooOoooOOo

These here drawings are what happened when I listened to the above (+ some) Jose/Junip play for an hour in my earbuds.

jose gonzalezBWjose gonzalezPINK


CHANNELING: José González

CHANNELING: TV on the Radio

tv on the radio
tv on the radio_color

I’m a doodler.  It’s like a nervous twitch that I can’t harness and ends up creating crazy stuff amidst notes about things it looks like I’m not, but I swear I am paying attention to.  A ton of research has been done on people like me with brains like mine…  pretty interesting stuff.  (start doodling!!)

Anyhoo, I’m trying this thing out where I sit down with a playlist or album and see what comes out.  This is TV on the Radio. My loves of all time.


CHANNELING: TV on the Radio

2 Weeks In

Hit play… wait for awesome youtube ads to subside, read on

Today was my first day of classes here at ENsad, or as I found out the locals call it “Art Deco.”
It also happens to stand as my 2-week mark here in the land of love. I haven’t blogged since the first day I arrived and I think it’s because I have had so many emotions flying around like baguette-swords in a face-off between two petit Parisians. (Did you follow that……?) Paris is an amazingly beautiful place, where perhaps the old French women are NOT as nice as I would like them to be…. but the croissants are MORE plentiful than I even imagined (AND AMAZING.) Generally speaking, I am a person who thrives off of others energy; I need plenty of attention and I love strangers, but I was plopped down in a place for a full ten days before school started where I was by myself 87 percent of the time, and whereas I can speak to almost anyone in the States, I become so non-characteristically nervous to parler with people in France. It’s been a treacherous journey, and I can’t even explain how frustrated I become when I don’t know ANYTHING, and even more so when I can’t speak my way out of the problems I find myself in. The other day I found myself in a restroom where the doors had ambiguous photos on the doors and I couldn’t dare say which one belonged to which sex- I felt like Spongebob in his sojourn out of Bikini Bottom (judge me)… waiting for someone to come out so I could tell where I belong. I am only just beginning to feel like I have ANY idea where the hell I am, or what I am supposed to be doing…. so here’s to the next 4 months, and to my waistline with the amount of cheese I have inhaled.