dear kathleen...

my friend of very big brain and cutting-edge style is getting married. she lives outside of london. her fancy is one of the most beautiful men you'll ever see. and when he's exasperated, he says things like, "did i balls?!"

i don't know what that means, but it sounds brilliantly naughty, don't you think?

anyway. i've been trying to help kathleen as much as i can, but remember? uncle sugar and i eloped to nantucket. i wore a marilyn monroe-ish dress that blew romantically in the wind, found at j. crew years and years before they re-invented the wedding gown.

plus, at last count, i've kirtsy'd at least seven hundred and fifty-four of the most drop-dead weddings. ever. i've instructed her to begin her planning at snippet and ink. then jump over to brooklyn bride. and she is under strict orders to devote serious time to green wedding shoes. as well as thirty other sights that will surely help her decision-making process.

easy, yes?

her last two mails to me have included an expletive in the subject line. apparently, she does not have a decision-making process. at least, not one i can print here.

i wish i had more experience in these sorts of things. weddings. all i really remember about my own is standing on the edge of that island with my patrick, thinking that this was a very lovely way to spend a wednesday afternoon. and also a lifetime.

so far, i've talked kathleen into this blue, and i'm working on a sweets table and letterpressed invites. unless her fancy made a book like this when he was six. and it'd be awesome if she'd finalize my text for her save-the-date, don't you think? {shhh. mary and i are working on a t.ruffles' inspired design for her!} visit kathleen here, but only on wednesdays and fridays.

weather or not...

i think i talk about the weather a lot.

this is a new quirk of mine, which seems to have developed ever since i froze. so, like...october?

last night, uncle sugar warned me of hurricane winds coming our way. i brightened and just wanted to jump into his lap at that genius news.

maybe our roof will fly off and we can move to the beach! i suggested smartly.

he looked a bit disgusted at my response. i think he asked on which planet was i living. then told me i stink at geometry. because no matter how hard i wish, the giant tree next door can't possibly fall at the angle needed to demolish our home while we're at the grocery. also. he suggested that i might want to stop asking the neighbors if they know any arsonists.

apparently, that would be bad for resale.

if you have any brilliant ideas for getting me to a beach, will you share? i'll wait right here. i'm the one wearing mittens.

i'm a dope. i didn't really even want to tell you any of the above. i wanted to tell you there's a new print in the shoppe. the red is drop-dead fantastic. and there's two really gorgeous blooms up on the sweeterie today. which kind of stinks because i had a funny little story all ready about a neighborhood alcoholic. {sigh.} maybe tomorrow...

i had to be a parent yesterday afternoon.

it was an issue-filled few hours overflowing with decisions only i could make. like, do i protect my girlie at the risk of jeopardizing that guy's job? or do i protect that guy's job at the risk of jeopardizing my girlie?

huh. when i write it out, it all makes perfect sense. yesterday, it just didn't.

i ended up protecting both. which wasn't easy for me. i know you really really really want to believe otherwise, but i am quite vindictive and treacherous {did you just giggle? me, too.} when it comes to protecting my stuff. and i consider my girlies three and my uncle sugar to be my stuff.

all is perfectly fine now, but i'm left feeling a bit wilted.

i've said it a million times, but this business of making people...man. did you think it'd be this too much?

too much worry-stomachaches and too much impatient fast-forwarding and too much wishful rewinding and too much tears - both at the beauty of it all and the beast - and too much sour moods and too much quarters for gumballs and too much think all of them'll go to university? and too much protecting and too much warning and too much what-iffing and too much loud get to beds and too much whispered good mornings and too. much. love.

yeah. the too much love keeps me in the game, as well.

did i ever tell you uncle sugar and i were going to buy a boat and a zippy little audi two-seater a smidge of a minute before i discovered i was pregnant with lillie kate? we ended up passing on that stuff for the unknown in my belly.

excellent decision.

shoes available here. because i don't know about you, but i shop for sensible shoes when i'm feeling low. i'm secretly hoping my summer looks like the ones above. have a sweet day, friends. and did you see yesterday's t.ruffle? it made me laugh.

things i learned this weekend...

my imaginary life feels brighter since i tripped over india knight's posterous, picked myself up, and immediately thieved all the sites she loves. she really should be more careful.

one such site is badass of the week, which makes me love history for the first time in my when-was-the-war-of-1812? pitiful little life.

my favorite so far is baldwin IV of jerusalem. i've tried for a maddening ten minutes to figure out the most genius excerpt to throw down here to make you love it, too, but i find this impossible. will you promise to read the first two paragraphs? ok, then.

i've sort of always believed in this concept, so it's not surprising how i drool over this bad boy. i think he'd look stunning with a pair of flip flops and a nothing tank.

if i had three wishes, one would definitely involve haute hippie. do you have a brand that makes your heart race like that?

this post made me re-think red. plus miss murano.

which reminded me of this.

leslie-miles is a sight. this, to me, is my greatest fear...

and this, to me, might very well be my greatest freedom. well. that, and voting and stuff.

one last thing. i was invited to the sweetest baby shower this weekend, and met some hilarious and kind and open and lovely women who made me laugh. loudly. i spent time with my good girlfriends, too. chatted with my sister who's more like my best friend, and my sister-in-law who's more like my sister. and then there are all those imaginary friends who, some days, feel very. very. real.

friendships, both fresh and ripe, are scrumptious, aren't they?

mary and i made this for our friends and yours. we hope you love it as much as we do...

as always, click on the turquoise links to get to the treasures. and have a sweet day.

a peek at my desk...

if you'd like to see exactly where i sit when i write all of this nonsense, please skip over to ill seen, ill said. i am thrilled to pink that jane flanagan asked me to participate in her where we blog from series. i like her very much, you know.

and i'll be back here tomorrow to tell you about all the lovely things i learned this weekend. because i'm still wading through some architecturally stunning sentences found in january's vanity fair. right now, i'm on my third review of the article on the new large hadron collider, buried about 350 feet beneath the swiss-french border, close to geneva.

i. know.

but i seriously can't stop myself. it's an amazing collection of words. mostly all superlative, which is my most. favorite. thing. ever. like, the lhc is not merely the world's largest particle accelerator, but the largest machine ever built. it's the coldest place in the universe. and, at the center of just one of the four main experimental stations installed around its circumference - and not even the biggest of the four - is a magnet that generates a magnetic field 100,000 times as strong as earth's.

i. know.

i'm trying my best to understand the content, too. something about trying to reproduce the conditions that existed 14 billion years ago so that scientists can see the universe as it was a trillionth of a second after the big bang.

it's all too much for this blogger of very small brain, but i'm hooked. and also? while i'm reading and jotting down words that i either don't know or that i just want to see how it feels to write, with my forehead all scrunched up in major confusion, giggling at the genius of it all...i keep thinking of a joke my sister sent me a few weeks ago.

two dudes are chatting. one asks "what do you think is farther? the moon or florida?" and the other one says "duh. you can see the moon."

exactly.

images found on emily abigail. i like her space. remember...you can see mine here.

i dream of being...

this fierce.

it'll never happen. even when i'm honestly angry, i start laughing. but still...it'd be great fun to be threatening every once in while, yes?

i didn't pop in to tell you that, though. i just wanted to tell you i've a guest post here. if you needed extra reading this weekend. samantha harris found here. my newest guilty pleasure. xoxo.

anthems...

we've caught the olympic bug. finally.

it took shaun white and those other delicious little dudes, but we are all in.

yesterday, our second new dishwasher {the first was sleek and pretty, but just entirely too lazy.} was firmly ensconced in its new home. we are thrilled. mostly because this was the final day i'd have to wait around for an installation. those five-hour chunks of wasted time are insane, yes?

then there's the whole explaining to mémé that no, this is not mommy's new friend. so stop telling the neighbors that he is. creepy.

but of the six different friends...i mean, repairman-installer guys...who came to our home, all but one were from somewhere else. ireland, pakistan, puerto rico, mexico, and the philippines.

the funny thing was they all walked through the door and stopped to stare at our walls of photos.

is that venice? yes.

you've been to petra? yes.

is that...? yes. yes. and yes.

and then they'd bring out their phones. show us snaps of their homes and faraway babes. it was always a sweet moment. i like people who love from where they came, don't you?

one of the men hadn't seen his daughter in three years. she was eight. my face scrunched up as i thought of not seeing one of my girlies three in three anythings. it would flatten me.

i think i embarrassed him. i'm nearly sure i did. especially because he shrugged and sort of tried to make me feel better.

it's the american dream, you know?

no. i don't. at least, i didn't. maybe i'd forgotten for a bit.

all of that to tell you this: gold medalists should be singing the heck out of their anthems. this one's my favorite version...

photos of the mast brothers chocolate via the selby. i love how their inspiration is "working with family and friends to make something from scratch that creates happiness." their own site is as delicious as shaun white and his boys.

be mine...

i never really told you about our valentine's day, did i?

hmmm. i can't imagine how it could've slipped my mind. maybe because...i'm not entirely certain...going out on a limb here...but it may have something to do with...how do you say...

i was a total jerk.

yes. that's exactly how you say.

don't get me wrong. it was an amazing day. but, then, we've been enjoying lots of those together with the blizzard days and all. so much so, that i'm newly inspired to win the lottery so we can stay home together and chat about everything and laugh our heads off about the girlies three. while he cooks spectacularly good food.

anyway. i normally don't even like valentine's day. {if you've noticed, i've a problem with holidays. more specifically, with certain days bossing me around.} but he and the girlies three were dying to give me this. which i love. especially when he told me "lill wanted to buy you the one with heavy tones of vanilla because you always call her vanilla, but i thought this would remind you of the gardenias you grew at our first house."

oh. those gardenias. yes, that was a fond memory. i loved those guys. miracle gro'd the heck out of 'em. how thoughtful. now. where's the shiny stuff?

i. know. this was clearly not me. not the one i know and certainly not the one most of you don't know.

but uncle sugar doesn't disappoint this crow when it comes to gift-giving. he's good. never gets it wrong. ever. so i was expecting shiny objects, do you know?

he bought me two sweaters. neither of which was adorned with even one stray sequin. neither of which were black. {i will disclose, these are exceptional sweaters. bcbg and vince, if you'd like to know.} and i teared right up. we've grown apart! it's like we're strangers. two ships passing in the night. i'm the ship wearing the sweater. why would he treat me this way?

to which he replied, "that's ridiculous, baby!"

or, wait. no. that's not quite right. it was, "you're ridiculous. and you're acting like a small child."

it gets better. i think there was even a meow meow, henrietta pussycat in there.

do you know why he bought me sweaters for valentine's day? because i've been telling him i'm all full up on shimmer for a while. i don't wear half of what i've got. the last few shinies he's bought me? i've returned. and and and. i've been very. very. very. cold. and he knows i don't like to be that many verys of cold.

days later - and i imagine for many more to come - i think about that and feel warm. i love love, don't you?

lanvin lovelies found here and dedicated to jane flanagan. who loves lanvin and whose blog is really really way better than it used to be. however. she does need more pictures. everything's better with more pictures. i only know all of this because she and i were given the same faux-compliment and sage advice from an amazing commenter known as anonymous. dear anon. don't you mess with my jane flanagan. xoxo. karey m.

who is this...

...robert greene fellow?

i'm told he's responsible for paula caravelli's home office wall.

i'm sort of drawn to impossible possibilities, aren't you?

spied and marked and ultimately torn out of elle decor march, which i bought in a very decadent - albeit weak - moment. i fear joslyn's hiatus is having an adverse effect on this formally frugal karey m.

sweetness...

the sweetest little gift arrived on my front steps the other eve. five hershey bars and one winsome note.

the note told me about this. excellent. i had no idea my sweet tooth of embarrassing proportions {i'm a t.ruffle girl, after all.} was actually...philanthropic.

funny how those hershey bars were all marked with a thank you message. because they turned into at least eight of the most charming s'mores that night. thanks for the moment, hershey's.

s'mores on a stick by chiccookiekits. ours were not as pretty, but pretty tasty nonetheless. via flickr.

interetted...

i truly have nothing left to tell you today. i just wrote a guest post for my friend, and it used up all the words in my head.

i'm sure i've told you this before, but guest posts drain me. it's a huge responsibility, don't you think? i worry so much. it's like babysitting someone else's babe and hoping beyond all hope that you don't kill it. or worse? disappoint it.

although. i could tell you how mémé's new phrase is i'm very interetted in that. for example, she is interetted in becoming a dragon hunter. she is not interetted in going to school.

she was eating the last sugar cookie the other day, looked sideways at me looking sideways at her, and noted you're very interetted in my cookie, aren't you?

i was very interetted in that cookie.

or i could tell you how she was mooching around in bed last night. {yes. still a co-sleeper sort of parent. and still chagrined.} and i asked without thinking if she wanted to take off her pajama britches. sometimes pajamas just get in the way of sleep, right?

well. she totally dead-faced me, and asked in a half-skeevy, half-judgy, half-disdainy voice...would you like me to take off YOUR panties?

ummm. no. i am not too terribly interetted in that.

shoppe update. shoppe update. we're having a bonanza, even though mary does not like that word. if you buy two notecard sets, we'll send you an extra one to give away. or, you can keep one and give two away. or you can keep all three. we promise not to judge. xoxo.

things i learned this weekend...

alexander mcqueen should've grown older.

i miss steve mcqueen, too. but i don't imagine he was the type of man who really wanted to grow older. does that make sense?

i would like a bicycle as soon as this place thaws. until then, i will work on my posture. {look. i'm sitting up straighter already.}

this girl makes me smile. incessantly.

i simply cannot read her words without crying and smiling at the same time. this is not a good look for me. plus it's quite draining. but i've said it before and i'll say it again: i'm grateful this woman is walking around somewhere in the world.

this site is so genius, it hurts. i simply cannot read it without a crinkled up forehead and lots. of. mewing. this is a better look for me and not nearly as draining. anyway. i'm grateful this site is sitting in my monitor.

this italian photographer's images - and especially that blue - make my heart race.

as does this italian boy's style. or maybe it's that killer smile. {you looked at his picture and smiled back at him, didn't you? i know you did. i did, too.}

i'm sure i learned other stuff. but i'm sort of in a rush to spend some time with my girlies three and my uncle sugar. remind me to tell you about our valentine's day, ok? ok. until tomorrow, friends. xoxo.

trash telly...

i rarely watch telly. in fact, when we moved back to the states, i begged uncle sugar to sell our sets. instead, he purchased one the size of a very. skinny. man.

this is called good communication.

because i was clearly delusional, but uncle sugar saw through my crazy and knew...just knew deep in his black heart...that a telly, while grotesque and incomprehensible to me, saves lives. i didn't want the truth because deep down in places i don't talk about at parties, i want one on my wall. i need one on my wall.

maybe it's the blizzard fever talking, but he was right.

so i'm changing my original sentence to i rarely don't watch telly. not really, but give me a reality show marathon? oh, i'm in.

which is how i happened to be watching millionaire matchmaker with lilie and grae. not my finest moment, i know. i know.

fast forward to exactly where one man kissed another man. and the girlies two turned all ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!

whoa. MY girlies? throwing down judgy? i almost lost it.

the next ten minutes were full of you think that's gross? have you smelled lill's retainer lately? and if you want to change people to be just like you, let's start small. convince mémé to wear something besides brown polka dotted pants with her halloween shirt from target. {sob} and it will break my heart if you turn out to be the type of people who have small views about love.

and then it was the end of commercial break, so we all silently set about watching again. a little while later, uncle sugar walked into the room and kissed me.

ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!

oh. i see. i'd forgotten they are ten and eleven. any kissing is gross.

sometimes i get ahead of myself. do you ever do this? fight when it's not even a real fight? say yes...

pages from one of my favorite books. may i bring a friend? by beatrice schenk de regniers. happy weekend, friends. hope it's filled with all sorts of love and many. icky. kisses.

low on words...

but i've got loads of 'em over here. will you read them, please?

and i know i'm supposed to be following joslyn's spending hiatus, which i prefer to call yet another month of joslyn bossing me around {you must know that i write this while i stifle a giggle and smile to myself!}, but i really really really. really. want this bracelet.

{sigh.}

please, jos? it's only sixty four dollars...

ivy...

i remember the oddest things.

like the time my grandma told me my smile was like that farrah fawcett's smile. better, even. you know i've never been one to accept compliments gracefully, but that one came only a few weeks after that whole liberace misfortune. so this little fella clung to it, thirty years and counting.

i remember one of the first madly-interminably-in-love things uncle sugar said to me the very first night we met. he said the same exact thing yesterday and he'll most likely say it again today with the same naughty look.

i remember what i said when each of the girlies three were born, and i've made sure they remember, too. you should hear esmé recount my gasp and first three words to her: you're! so! cute!

i keep pretty much every batch of good words in my back pocket, don't you? i know exactly how many times i've been told i was a great writer and that i have fantastic shoulders and a really happy smile. i've been called a free spirit exactly four times, and i never forget how this was meant as a compliment only three times. i'm still holding every begrudging nice shot from the tennis court, every random thank you, and maybe even one or two you're just perfect.

one thing, though. i have a difficult time remembering the bad. any bad. {note: to the two or three people with whom i've held nonsense grudges? this does not apply to you. i remember what you said. in sixth grade.} and i wonder if it's because i never heard any bad growing up...

i was lucky enough to live a really idyllic childhood, and it's hard for me to remember anything else. i don't remember my dad swearing or getting angry. the worst i ever heard him say was that guy can go...suck eggs. he and my brothers and sisters enjoyed the heck out of me in my memories, and my mom absolutely lived for me. my oldest brother taught me to cartwheel when he learned i was the only girl in my class who couldn't and that even mark schwinnen could. he also built me a bike and painted it sparkly blue to match my eyes. to this day, when i fill out forms, i have to stop myself from writing eye color: sparkly blue. i had it made, yes?

which brings me to last night. grae was putting a goofy hat on esmé, and esmé made her monkey face in the mirror, and grae said to me she looks like such a little weirdo! and, of course, mémé laughed and made another monkey face, which made my grae-girl giggle all the more.

but i pulled grae aside a little while later and asked her what she remembers hearing when she was a little. and she thought about it because she's a really thoughtful girl. she said well. you told me i'm the most beautiful girl. i know i'm probably one of the smartest, too. the nicest. definitely the strongest.

{totally true. i know this because she punched the muscle in her leg and didn't. even. flinch.}

anyway. i just suggested that she offer mémé the same chance to feel perfect, and i know my girl listened. because within ten minutes, esmé was hopping around the house telling anyone and no one who would listen that she's gracie's twin. and they're perfect, didn't you know?

of course i did.

houses via flickr. the very first or second time i met uncle sugar's mom, we were silent-driving though a neighborhood on the way to von maur. silence slays me, so i looked out the window and said oh, look at that house! don't you love ivy? no. she did not love ivy. and for the rest of the drive i heard about the home-owners from hell. ivy-ists. a sad lot, really. they have no idea the horrors that happen under all that green. good luck with resale, suckers. but do you know what makes me giggle so hard right now as i write this? she probably doesn't even remember this moment. anyway. all this to ask you, do you remember things like this? do you keep these words with you? do tell. i'm in the mood to chat.

and in case you were wondering, i quite like ivy. but i like uncle sugar's mom way more than that.

another. snow. day.

i'm forcing words today, so i'm going to beg off until maybe this evening.

i do, however, have some words over at design crush.

did you know that i rarely like the words that i write? it's probably that way with all of us, yes? well. i like the words i wrote for word very much. the last two or three lines made me a little weepy, even.

off to sled. see you at the sweeterie in a little bit.

things i learned this weekend...

i wish i was better at living vertically. it is definitely a skill, don't you think? uncle sugar and i want to spend a few years someday living in new york, so we'll hopefully get a chance to someday perfect this skill.

i like anna quindlen's words. they're incredibly simple thoughts, but somehow fly straight to my i've-got-to-remember-this list.

this is my view as i write. i'm serious. i mean, i opened up the patio door so you wouldn't get glare, but this may be the reason for my hazy dazey huh? where am i? wandering style of writing. sunshine in my backyard adds heartbeats to my life.

i think sunshine on my fingers would work just as well.

one more thing. an incredulous uncle sugar was shoveling the snow our proprietary plowed into mountain-piles at the end of our driveway, when an über chilled-out neighbor offered him some unsolicited advice.

you know, pat...i look at things and think 'hey. it could always be worse.'

at this, my husband stopped shoveling. really? because i look at things and think 'hey. it could always be better.'

i like the way uncle sugar thinks.

i know. i know. i ruined it all by telling you uncle sugar's real name. and now you know the name i've tattooed on my right foot. ugh. let's just pretend this never happened, ok? ok. as you were, friends. happy monday. and xoxo.

oh! one more thing. i learned that no matter how many years go by, uncle sugar and i still get all misty at the same super bowl commercial. every year. without fail. dear google, we're smitten. i will never bing again. and what are t.ruffles? mary and i will show you. xoxo. karey m.

our hero...

this is one of those stories i need my girlies to remember. when i'm here. when i'm not. whenever. forever.

it's a story about strength. the iron giant kind of strength. stronger than that, maybe. it's a story about love. a fierce and fighty love as everlasting and as heartbreaking as old dan had for little ann. it's a story about keeping your word until the very end. kind of like inigo montoya. hanging on to dear, dear life even while scaling the cliffs of insanity, even when battling rodents of unusual size, and even in the pit of despair.

oh, it's a good story. because this story? this story is all yours. it's about your aunt lin. a real-deal hero. who was all yours.

you weren't even supposed to meet each other. her cancer had come to visit again. but this time? her cancer brought some friends. they all barged in without invitation to breasts and bones. and this time? it looked as though they were staying. no matter how politely all those surgeries and chemotherapies and radiations asked 'em to leave.

we rushed a brand new little lillie from dallas to chicago to meet this ball of magic i called my sister. and a funny thing happened, lill: lin fell head-over-tails in love with you. so, with a brand new you in her heart, she fought her cancer and all those nasty companions. and she won.

that's how important you are.

then came you, grae. a mini-me in colors and smiles. from the minute she laid eyes on you, lin was hooked. so, with a brand new you in her heart, she continued to fight. and continued to win.

that's how important you are.

the two of you and lin shared a birthday month, you september girls. every september, we'd find her or she'd find us. with fireworks. always fireworks.

fast forward to the end of an august, when lill would turn seven in less than a week. but your aunt lin hadn't gotten out of bed in over that. she couldn't even walk on her own. even so, you had to ask, sweet lillie kate.

will you be at my birthday?

yes. she answered, after a great pause and with more conviction than anyone else in the room owned. i wouldn't miss it for the world.

and so, on your seventh year, lill, your aunt lin came to your party. walked right in grammy's door without any help or extra hands. wearing eye make-up, even. it was unforgettable.

that's how important you are.

and grae? don't think i didn't see you that entire night. hovering over lin. touching her every so often with one gentle finger just to prove to yourself that, yes, she was really there. when she really wasn't supposed to be. my god, grae...you were only five. but nineteen days later, you would turn six. so you had to ask.

will you be at my birthday?

an even greater, how-could-it-get-any-more-painful pause this time. i wouldn't miss it for the world, grae. promised with more conviction than i think even she owned. and i don't know how the heck she did it, but she held on until your birthday. remember? she even brought fireworks.

that's how important you are.

there was one more mackin girlie due to arrive. but not until october. there was just no way lin would meet this one. i knew it. she knew it. everyone knew it.

grae-girl? i could see in your eyes that you knew it, too. but you had just turned six. one of those ages when there's a miracle behind every moon. so you asked lin if she could stay. to see our newest babe. and what do you think she promised?

she wouldn't miss it. not. for. the. world.

esmé dahlia...you came early. snuck in at the very end of the month. i think you must've known. or maybe you just wanted to be a september girl, too. lin was the first to arrive that next morning to meet you. to hold you. until her tears became too much. you wouldn't know each other long. less than two weeks. but know this, esmé. the very idea of you kept her alive.

and that's how important you are.

as i write this story...lin's ending...you are nine and eight and two. today, your lives are fairly simple. you ask. you get. like magic.

but someday, your lives won't be so simple. someday, your lives will become less about asking. more about giving. someday, your lives will become less about today. all about tomorrow. and that's when you'll truly understand all that lin gave to you. and that's when your hearts will just shatter with the weight of her gift.

so fold this memory into a tiny square, you three, and keep it in your back pockets. reach for it when you need it. and if one of you forgets for a moment, remind her, won't you?

that once upon a time and happily ever after and over the hills and through the woods and now and forever and 'til death we do part and goodnight gorilla...this was your story. this was your hero.

i hope your memories of lin make you better. just better. just more. hold tight to her strength when you need to be strong. or when someone else needs you to be strong. recreate her love as often as you impossibly can. and then once more after that. keep your word until the very, very end. try. give. care. stay.

because that's how important she was.

this was originally posted on mackin ink's first edition, way over two years ago. i think i wrote a lot better then. artwork by studio mela.