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Portland, Maine: my summer home

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I share the best
thing I can make – this stitching
together the memory
and heart-scrap, this wish
– Wesley McNair, Poet Laureate of Maine, from “Reading Poems at the Grange Meeting in What Must Be Heaven,” collected in My Brother Running

Beautiful downtown Portland, Maine.

Beautiful downtown Portland, Maine.

I’ve been coming to Portland, Maine, in August for the last eight years. My company is based in New Gloucester, Maine, and one of my dearest friends and later boss lives in The Pine Tree State. Jack and I met at Syracuse University when we were fiction writers in the Creative Writing Program back in 1988. Yes, I know, that was a long time ago. Jack and his business partner started a publishing company in the early 2000s, and he took me on as a freelancer shortly thereafter.

I was still a freelancer at the time when I started coming to the summer summits, which commenced two years before, but have been an FTE in the last three years. Ever since that first summer summit, I have stayed with Jack and his family – he met his wife, Fay, our second year at Syracuse – for the weekend and then the company summit would begin that Monday and Tuesday. In August 2010, my family came with me, and we explored the wonderful islands in the Portland area before heading to Boston for the rest of our family vacation.

Best bakery in and out of Portland.

Best bakery in and out of Portland.

I still remember the wonder of looking out the window of the plane for the first time before landing in Portland and seeing all the quaint but sturdy New England-style homes on the waterfront and the boats with their beautiful, billowy white sails in the still water. Jack and Fay’s three kids – Genny, Nick, and Camille – taught me the proper way to eat a lobster. There is nothing like fresh Maine lobster, such that I heed Jack’s warning to never order lobster at a restaurant lest I wish to be disappointed. It’s true.

Baked goods at The Standard Baking Co.

Baked goods and customer service with a smile at The Standard Baking Co.

Through the years, I’ve been lucky enough to take advantage of my downtime to dash to downtown Portland and enjoy the brick sidewalks and storybook shops, and take in the fresh salt air. This year, the grandmother of one of Jacob’s baseball teammates who hails from Boston recommended that I go to The Standard Baking Co. (75 Commercial Street, Portland, ME, 04101, 207.773.2112), which is well-known not only in Portland but in New England and beyond. We stopped on a Saturday afternoon, and the small shop was hopping as people came in and out on a continuous basis (no exaggeration here). I had to try the chocolate chip cookies, which did not disappoint. I’m told that their breads and pastries are equally delicious. Definitely a destination if you’re ever in Portland.

The well-curated Second Time Around.

The well-curated Second Time Around.

I hit Second Time Around (28 Exchange Street, Portland, 207.761.7037), a consignment shop that has several locations on the East Coast. The Portland shop is small but well curated, which means you can swoop in and out fairly quickly. Although supersize vintage and consignment shops can produce the thrill-of-the-hunt adrenalin, oftentimes and lately they overwhelm me. In the past, I have found a Nanette Lepore brocade jacket and a vintage 1940s jacket for a song. This stop, I snagged a Marc Jacobs embellished cropped cardigan. Other favorite shops in the downtown area include Abacus Gallery (44 Exchange Street, 207.772.4880), which features Elizabeth Ng jewelry made of antique buttons; Se Vende Imports (4 Exchange Street, Portland, 207.761.1808), which has beautiful imported jewelry ranging from inexpensive to $$$; and Wyler’s (92 Exchange Street, Portland, 207.775.0751), a gift shop featuring unusual greeting cards, jewelry, clothing, shoes, and everything in inbetween.

A plaque on Exchange Street highlights the historical importance of second-hand clothing stores during the Underground Railroad and for African-Americans.

A plaque on Exchange Street highlights the historical importance of second-hand clothing stores during the Underground Railroad and for African-Americans.

I didn’t make it to the vintage shops Encore, Material Objects, or Pinecone+Chickadee, with the latter two also offering locally crafted goods, on Saturday, but we’ll see if I can slip it in before I return home. The other thing I failed to do is take a picture of a beautiful home typical of the area with the caption of “my next home.” There is always a next time!

When we were island hopping back in 2010, the area reminded me of Robert McCloskey’s wonderful children’s books – Blueberries for Sal, A Time of Wonder, and One Morning in Maine – and Barbara Cooney’s Miss Rumphius. It reminded me of the wish to have given my kids an annual summer vacation on an island, where they could hop on their bikes and take off, fish, and play in the water while I read novels under the cumulus clouds and brilliant sun. In the evenings we would eat leisurely dinners on a deck under the stars, where it is warm with a slight breeze. The days stretch on seemingly without end. And the water, the water is all glass.

The quintessential summer in Maine.

The quintessential summer in Maine.

Lauren Ari: Art as affirmation of the artist’s existence, Part I

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The artist is a receptacle for emotions that come from all over the place: from the sky, from the earth, from a scrap of paper, from a passing shape, from a spider’s web.
– Pablo Picasso, Spanish painter, sculptor, printmaker, ceramicist, and stage designer

Lauren at the entrance of her backyard garden.

Lauren at the entrance of her backyard garden.

I met mixed-media artist Lauren Ari, 46, at the Stockton Avenue Art Stroll in El Cerrito this past May. She was selling her framed paintings at the invitation of Jen Komaromi of Jenny K, who is a friend of hers and a fellow former preschool parent. Lauren and I hit it off, and although we had just met, a passerby in the store thought we had known each other for years. The relaxed conversation and easy laughter was largely attributable to Lauren’s honesty and energy. “I’m really honest – perhaps too honest – because my work is that way,” she told me in June, when I visited her at her home in Richmond, a welcoming place that is both an informal museum and sunny garden celebrating her colorful work.

When you look closely at Lauren’s paintings and sculptures, you feel as if you’ve gone – with her permission – into the recesses of her imaginative mind, where both light and dark co-exist. You also feel the frenetic energy that created it and the energy emanating, pulsing from her, which is infectious. “There’s something that’s faster than me, personally; I think I’m behind this energy that is moving me,” she said. “I trust something bigger than myself.” Indeed, Lauren added, “A lot of what I do is very intuitive; I don’t set out necessarily to do X, Y, and Z. Circumstances happen and I follow them.”

The sculpture All Is Love in her studio.

The sculpture “All Is Love” in her studio.

Following the winding path
Creativity was encouraged and ran in the family – her aunt was in ceramics and her uncle is a basket weaver. Her mother was also a creative type and reserved an area of Lauren’s bedroom for making art. She fondly remembers her grandmother’s coffee table books and paintings on the walls of her home, and as a child, Lauren pored over her grandmother’s books on Picasso, who inspired her. “”He spoke to me,” she recalled. By age 15, she was doing performance art with Racheal Rosenthal, called “Doing by Doing,” at the Women’s Building in downtown Los Angeles, where she grew up. She transferred out of public high school to attend a local art school. Although she labeled herself a “square peg,” in this creative environment in which all her teachers were artists she began to identify herself as an artist. “They exposed you to so much,” she said. “I really felt like I was learning for the first time.”

Lauren's flower pots in her garden.

Lauren’s flower pots in her garden.

At the age of 17, Lauren attended the Rhode Island School of Design (RISD). The first year at RISD provides the foundation for all students, and although at the time she admitted that she was not ready to listen and just wanted to be left alone to create her art, Lauren said that she learned “most everything.” While she was at RISD, her parents divorced, which led her deeper into her art. “I was in my own space; art was healing for me,” she recalled. Adding to her burden was the familial pressure of how she would be able to make a living from her art, despite her family’s encouragement to pursue her passion. “I didn’t have enough strength in myself to have faith in what I was doing,” she said.

Tile painting in the garden.

Tile painting in the garden.

She dropped out of college after two years and returned home, enrolling in the local community college and then taking on a variety of odd jobs. Feeling the need to finish school, she moved to the Bay Area upon the advice of a good friend and got her BFA with High Distinction from the California College of Arts and Crafts (CCAC) (5212 Broadway, Oakland, CA 94618, 510.594.3600) and later attended the University of California at Davis, where she earned her MFA.

“Art was my voice and a way for me to ground myself into existence,” she said, reflecting on that difficult time in her life. Many years later, when she was teaching art to critically ill children at Oakland’s Children’s Hospital, one of her students, a young girl, did not want to leave her class to undergo a procedure. She kept putting her hand down on the paper, leaving imprints which reminded Lauren of prehistoric cave paintings. “It was like she was saying, ‘I’m here,'” she said. For years, much of Lauren’s work represented proof that she existed. The act of creating was her way of saying to the world: “I’m here.” Art was her vehicle for staying present. “It was a big moment for me to really see myself,” she said.

At home with her daughter Mirabai.

At home with her daughter Mirabai.

The Impact of motherhood on the artist
Lauren experienced another revelation when she gave birth to her daughter, Mirabai, in 2006. Until she became a mother, Lauren didn’t realize how consumed she was with making art. “I didn’t question it [my art] as much. It was who I was, what I did, and I just gave myself over to that,” she said. “It gave me my purpose; it gave me a place to be and to ground.” Whatever energy she had she shifted to raising her daughter. “Having a child later in life was a very humbling experience for me,” she said. During that time, she realized – in a “shockingly painful” way – how imbued she was in her desire to be constantly creating.

“I have a lot more spaciousness now,” she said. Instead of excusing herself to work in her studio, she allows herself the luxury of having long conversations with people. She engages in activities that she has never done before, and she and her poet husband, Daniel Ari, and daughter do a lot of dance and movement together as a family. Lauren has since slowed down with her work. “I’ve just become a lot more relaxed,” she said. Before her daughter’s birth, she had already accomplished many of the things she felt she needed to do as an artist, including having several of her pieces included in the Achenbach Collection of the De Young Museum (50 Hagiwara Tea Garden Drive, San Francisco, CA 94118, 415.750.3600) and a two-person show at the Klaudia Marr Gallery, a well-known gallery in Santa Fe. “I succeeded in the outside world and those were all great things, but now I’m trying to figure out how to get back to my practice,” she said. “I’m trying to figure out what’s next.”

Lauren's sculptures in her studio.

Lauren’s sculptures in her studio.

Editor’s note: Lauren teaches art classes at her home studio on Thursdays, 7pm to 9pm, called Art Camp for Adults. Each session comprises four classes. Lauren suggests ideas and the group decides on the direction. The next session begins in September 2013. Lauren is also open to teach art classes one on one with artists who are experiencing creative blocks or those who want some coaching and need assistance in putting their portfolio together in order to apply to art high school or college. She also hosts art events out of her home twice a year. To see more of Lauren’s work and to contact her, go to her website www.laurenari.com.

One of the many murals in Lauren's backyard. You might recognize her murals at Annie's Annuals in Richmond, CA.

One of the many murals in Lauren’s backyard. Her murals grace the walls of Annie’s Annuals Nursery in Richmond, CA.

Chicago: Architectural boat tour and Museum of Science and Industry

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What is the chief characteristic of the tall office building? It is lofty. It must be tall. The force and power of altitude must be in it, the glory and pride of exaltation must be in it. It must be every inch a proud and soaring thing, rising in sheer exaltation that from bottom to top it is a unit without a single dissenting line.
– Louis Sullivan, American architect, The Tall Office Building Artistically Considered, 1898

The few brave souls to take the river cruise on a cold June morning.

The few brave souls to take the river cruise on a cold June morning.

A River cruise of Chicago architecture
Upon recommendation of friends, we booked a boat tour of Chicago’s riverfront architecture. The morning of the tour was cold and foggy, but we persevered. The sites were no less impressive. Victor, our tour guide, was well versed in the history of Chicago’s architecture, as was expected, but he was so passionate about sharing that history and being a voice in preserving the riverfront’s architectural integrity. We started at the Navy Pier and worked our way up two of the three forks in the river.

Chicago's riverfront skyscrapers on a foggy morning.

Chicago’s riverfront skyscrapers on a foggy morning.

It is amazing to learn about the history of buildings. For instance, the U.S. postal building was this massive building built in the early twentieth century to accommodate the Federal Reserve printing notes and stock certificates and the large mail-order business of Sears and other retail companies. Snail mail has given way to the Internet as a common form of communication, which has led to the postal building’s demise. It has sat empty for years, awaiting redevelopment plans to transform it into residential and retail use.

The riverfront is home to a mix of buildings – some post-industrial and massive, others tall and slender, and created out of green glass and steel. All rising to create a beautiful cityscape. While there are disputes as to which city had the first skyscraper, Chicago’s Home Insurance Building, completed in 1885 but no longer in existence, has been recognized for being the first to be framed in steel. One of my favorite buildings is the Tribune Tower, with its Gothic crown and flying buttresses. Interestingly, Colonel Robert McCormick, the head of the Chicago Tribune requested that journalists embed fragments of historically significant buildings from all over the world into the base of the Tribune Tower. Such fragments include the Taj Mahal, the Great Wall of China, and the Alamo in San Antonio, TX. Another favorite is the Wrigley Building, owned by the chewing gum tycoon, which was the tallest building in Chicago when it was built in the early 1920s.

A skyline of old and new buildings.

A skyline of old and new buildings.

Playing with shadows, magnetic magic, and falling colored chips on a screen.

Playing with shadows, magnetic magic, and falling colored chips on a screen.

Museum of Science and Industry
Chicago’s Museum of Science and Industry (5700 South Lake Shore Drive, 773.684.1414), which opened in 1933, is the largest science museum in the Western Hemisphere. It houses 35,000 artifacts and nearly 14 acres of scientific experiences, and is located in a massive building near the University of Chicago campus. We were there for five hours, and it wasn’t enough time to see everything that we were interested in seeing. At times overwhelming, the museum is best approached in small chunks; we slowly made our way around each section of the floor, though some exhibits were sold out or we had to make decisions about what we really wanted to see in the amount of time we had.

We saw the film The Last Reef in the Omnimax Theater, a five-story, domed, wraparound theater. The reef is near the Bikini Atoll, part of the Micronesia Islands of the Pacific Ocean. It was amazing to see marine life from the ocean floor, magnified. What stood out for me is seeing the abandoned decommissioned ships and stone statues that are deliberately sunk to encourage coral and other life to grow and create new “communities.” The stone statues are, ironically, people with their eyes closed. Many already were covered with algae and other life forms. The statues are haunting and mesmerizing.

A real German submarine is on display for people to walk through.

A real German submarine is on display for people to walk through.

Jacob’s favorite exhibit was the U-505 submarine, the only German submarine in the United States’ possession. This submarine was captured on June 4, 1944. There were 37 bunk beds in the submarine, but at one time 59 sailors were on the boat, which meant that while men slept in the lice-infested beds, others worked. They were often out to sea for roughly four months, with nary a shower or a washing of their clothes. Isabella’s favorite exhibit was Genetics and the Baby Chick Hatchery, which featured an incubator where new-born chicks had just chipped their way out of their shells. You could see many eggs with cracks, but we’re told that it can take up to 10 hours for a chick to get out of its shell, after 21 days of a hen laying an egg.

The massive Science Storms exhibit.

The massive Science Storms exhibit.

Science Storms was an impressive and expansive exhibit that showed how avalanches and tornadoes are created in large scale. The Great Train Story connects Seattle to Chicago through 1,400 feet of track and more than 20 miniature trains traversing across miniature mountains, valleys, and towns. We all love trains, especially older trains, so it was a thrill to pretend we were traveling on the Silver Streak, the Pioneer Zephyr, which was one of the country’s first diesel-electric streamlined passenger trains. Just like on the airplanes, cars were divided up into coach, business class, and first class, which was a private compartment that seated six in the last car. Farm Tech was a strange exhibit in that it was about the latest innovations in agriculture. Can you say genetically modified organisms?

Checking out how static electricity works.

Checking out how static electricity works.

After returning to the Loop, we attempted to catch dinner at Frontera Grill (445 North Clark Street, 312.661.1434), the Rick Bayless restaurant, well known for its Mexican cuisine. With two starving children, we couldn’t swing the two-hour wait. Another strikeout in terms of enjoying recommended Chicago food. We have not given up on making it to recommended restaurants. Stay tuned.

Airplanes from different time periods soar over a replica of downtown Chicago at the Museum of Science and Industry.

Airplanes from different time periods soar over a replica of downtown Chicago at the Museum of Science and Industry.

Appropriate at Any Age: Removing “age” in “age appropriate”

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You can be gorgeous at thirty, charming at forty, and irresistible for the rest of your life.  – Coco Chanel, French fashion designer

These waxed shorts sit lower on the waist to lengthen the inseam. Chocolate opaque tights and booties lengthen the leg, and the dark-colored sweater jacket lengthens the entire frame. Add a touch of faux fur and vintage purse and you're ready to go.

These waxed shorts sit lower on the waist to lengthen the inseam. Chocolate opaque tights and booties lengthen the leg, and the dark-colored sweater jacket lengthens the entire frame. Add a touch of faux fur and vintage purse and you’re ready to go.

In the last year or so, I’ve come across a fistful of articles in women’s and fashion magazines that expound on what a woman of a certain age should or shouldn’t wear. One author said she had been told that women over 30 shouldn’t wear leather jackets anymore. Another article smugly noted that while older women are donning clothing items once deemed the domain of the younger woman, young women can triumphantly pull on shorts, with the knowledge that they are leaving the older women – their mothers – in the dust. Every time I read one of those articles, I got unnecessarily exasperated. I soon realized this was a waste of energy. I then calmed down and recalled a famous Coco Chanel quote: “I don’t care what you think about me; I don’t think about you at all.”

Is there such a thing as age appropriate? Should there be such a thing as age appropriateness? I would rather we remove the word “age” from the concept of age appropriate. Let’s talk about what is appropriate. Take those shorts, for example. Now make them “Daisy Duke” shorts, the kind in which the inseam length is a negative number. Maybe a handful of women would look good in them, but I’m certain I don’t want to see anyone’s cheeks hanging out, save for the ones on their faces.

Jean shorts and black opaque tights create a classic look. Keep it simple with black embellished t-shirt, belt, and leather jacket. But give it an edge with a red bag and studded booties.

Jean shorts and black opaque tights create a classic look. Keep it simple with black embellished t-shirt, belt, and leather jacket. But give it an edge with a red bag and studded booties.

I will submit that not all women – regardless of age – can wear shorts and feel comfortable in them. I grew up in the Central Valley of California, where the temperatures would remain in the 90s (degrees) late into the evening, but I would not wear shorts to school or to any social outing as a teenager because I was too self-conscious and felt exposed in shorts. Painfully shy, I deemed it a triumph when I finally felt comfortable enough to wear shorts in college. The operative word is comfortable and its subtext is confidence.

Vegan leather and Frye boots are softened by a creamy lace blouse and tights.

Vegan leather and Frye boots are softened by a creamy lace blouse and tights.

I submit that a lot of women of my age can wear shorts smartly and successfully – and appropriately. First of all, I don’t wear shorts to “look” or “feel” young. I wear shorts because I like a particular pair of shorts or like the look of it as part of an outfit, an ensemble. This is a very important point. I have my rules of thumb, though don’t think of them as rigid rules. Think of them as comfort levels. No matter what the style, they should fit – not tight or not baggy when they’re not supposed to be baggy. I don’t wear short-shorts. Inseam length is critical. While a three-inch inseam seems itty-bitty, it’s not so bad – if you really like the style, fabric, and/or print – to size up and let the waistband sit low. In the wintertime, you can wear opaque tights and look appropriate and sharp. If you feel the need to cover up and work your way up to a certain comfort level, wear boots. Regardless of comfort level, however, shorts and boots go hand in hand in cold weather.

Mixing vintage Miriam Haskell pearl necklace, reclaimed vintage bow necklace from Gorgeous and Green (Berkeley, CA), Carmela Rose reclaimed vintage earrings, beloved bumble bee bracelet purchased in Philadelphia, and chunky ring from Lava 9 (Berkeley, CA).

Mixing vintage Miriam Haskell pearl necklace, reclaimed vintage bow necklace from Gorgeous and Green (Berkeley, CA), Carmela Rose reclaimed vintage earrings, beloved bumble bee bracelet purchased in Philadelphia, and chunky ring from Lava 9 (Berkeley, CA).

The only time I don’t wear tights with shorts is when it’s super casual and I’m at home or at a sporting event. In the Bay Area, our summers are famously cool and foggy most of the time, so you can get away with tights and shorts across seasons. In the summertime, I wear shorts with flats or wedges or platforms, but never with heels, especially spiky heels. That’s where my comfort level ebbs. While shorts oftentimes conveys casual and informal, I like dressing up shorts, as a style statement but also for its ability to lend a sense of sharpness.

Suede jacket, flowery blouse, pop of color in the yellow belt, and neutral tights and booties for spring.

Suede jacket, flowery blouse, pop of color in the yellow belt, and neutral tights and booties for spring.

Fashion should be fun and experimental. With shorts, you need to figure out what style looks good on you, which fabrics and prints flatter your shape, and what kind of a look you are trying to convey. And then let loose and experiment with what goes on top, what shoes are a good match, what accessories compliment and make the whole outfit cohesive yet effortless. Think of shorts as part of the overall outfit. It makes them less intimidating and really, part of the fashion canvas. So be artistic, creative, comfortable, and confident in whatever you wear.

Mix faux fur and full lace shorts in monochromatic colors.

Mix faux fur and full lace shorts in monochromatic colors.

Reclaimed vintage gold jewelry looks natural against tan silk and creamy mottled faux fur.

Reclaimed vintage gold jewelry looks natural against tan silk and creamy mottled faux fur.

Welcome spring in navy shorts, pastel sweater, navy hose, and Frye covered-toe sandals.

Welcome spring in navy shorts, pastel sweater, navy hose, and Frye covered-toe sandals.

 

February’s false spring

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Despite the forecast, live like it’s spring.
– Lilly Pulitzer, American fashion designer

The first tulip of the season pops up during our February false spring.

The first tulip of the season pops up during our February false spring.

Although the temperatures are going to drop this week and rain is expected on Tuesday, the past six days have been lovely. In February, we typically get a spell of warm weather in the upper 60s and sometimes even low 70s (in degrees), making you chafe in your tightly woven turtleneck sweater and want to change into cotton t-shirts. Our false spring coaxes our two massive magnolia trees in our backyard to blossom and drop their pink and white petals, which will become a gummy, rust-colored mess when the late winter rains drive our false spring away.Despite the beginning of my son’s baseball season and indeed a weekend of baseball practices, clinic, and meetings, we as a family spent a few hours Sunday afternoon pulling weeds mostly in our side yard. It reminded me how I used to have time to tend to my garden, pulling weeds on a regular basis, ridding plants of snails, pruning judiciously, and clipping spent flowers. When I moved into David’s house nearly 17 years ago, I became smitten with gardening. The previous owner, who was the first owner of the house, was an avid gardener who had planted bluebells for the spring and Mexican poppies and dahlias for the summer and early fall.

I took a lot of photos of my father in his garden while taking photography classes at my local junior college back home in 1982. His gardening uniform consisted of a white t-shirt, canvas trousers, and his trusty straw hat.

I took a lot of photos of my father in his garden while taking photography classes at my local junior college back home in 1982. His gardening uniform consisted of a white t-shirt, canvas trousers, and his trusty straw hat.

We sought to make the garden our own. We ripped out the poppies, dug up the bluebell bulbs, tore down his black widow-infested homemade sheds, and in the front yard pulled up the boxwood hedges, diseased pine tree, and juniper bushes. I grew to love dahlias and planted different varieties to the tune of 22 types, mostly in the side yard. I experienced a Zen sense of calmness and accomplishment after spending weekend hours in the yard. At the end of the day, I would stretch out and survey the neatly tended garden with great satisfaction. I imagined it was not unlike the admiration my father experienced when he surveyed his vegetable garden on summer evenings.

This plot of the garden will soon look like . . .

This plot of the garden will soon look like . . .

When we moved during the major house remodel, we put all the dahlia bulbs in planters and tubs and transported them to our rental. Once the house was completed, David and our good friend Ricci laid down a flagstone path and erected an iron fence and gate in the side yard. The tall column fountain, which David and I gave to each other as a first Christmas present after we got married, was installed, and we commenced planting the bulbs in the amended soil.I added pottery and potted plants, and other kinds of flowers. Three different bird baths and two bird feeders joined a winged angel and fairy statues and wire and clay suns with whimsical faces hung on the fence. One winter we planted a variety of short and tall-stemmed tulips, and calla lilies have sprung up in unexpected places. While the calla lilies are thriving, the tulip leaves are shouldering up from the soil during our false spring.

. . . this when the real spring arrives.

. . . this when the real spring arrives.

One of the things I especially enjoy at the height of spring and summer is clipping flowers and greenery and making massive arrangements and doing so without caring about how much time it’s taking. Even more so, I enjoy giving out the arrangements I make. The last few seasons the late spring rains have shortened the season and made the flowers not as prolific as they used to be, so I can’t make the two or three arrangements a week that I was accustomed to doing.

Contemplating spring with a sleeveless maxi. Throw on a light jacket with bracelet sleeves and wrap around your neck flowery and ethereal scarves, and spring should come in no time.

Contemplating spring with a sleeveless maxi. Throw on a light jacket with bracelet sleeves and wrap around your neck flowery and ethereal scarves, and spring should come in no time.

A few years ago, we donated a season’s worth of weekly bouquets, which averaged about 14 weeks from late May through early September, as a bidding item for our kids’ elementary school annual auction event. I would make the arrangement, sometimes two, deliver it to the winning bidder’s porch, and pick up the previous week’s vase. It is an easy, no-cost donation that earns money for the elementary school – and now our middle school. So as gardeners’ flowers start to bloom and school auctions are being planned and set with spring dates, consider donating a weekly bouquet. Help your community – even if you don’t have children in the local schools. As our February false spring comes to a close, survey your garden. Make sure it’s being nurtured and ready for optimal blooming. And then share the beauty of your garden.

Skip the jewelry with an outfit like this when you wear multiple sheer scarves adorned with watercolor flowers and beading and sequins. Dress like it's spring!

Skip the jewelry with an outfit like this when you wear multiple sheer scarves adorned with watercolor flowers and beading and sequins. Dress like it’s spring!

The Winter wonderland that is Brooklyn

Quote

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I once started out to walk around the world, but ended up in Brooklyn,
that Bridge was too much for me.
– Lawrence Ferlinghetti, American poet and painter, A Coney Island of the Mind

Beautiful brownstones in snow.

Beautiful brownstones in snow.

Greetings from Brooklyn! When I arrived Saturday morning, it was 18 degrees and snowing lightly. It had snowed the night before, and as I was driven from JFK to my sister’s and my new friend’s place in Brooklyn, I marveled at the pristine layer of snow that endowed the cityscape with a quietude and pureness. I was reminded of Peter’s world in Brooklyn from A Snowy Day.Last week, I had pulled out my 1988 army-surplus-store, army-issue Alaskan arctic parka (from my Jesuit Volunteer Corp. days in Alaska) to wear, fortified by long underwear. But when it came time to start packing, I realized it was too bulky to take and pack (as my business travels were to take me to Dallas and Austin, as well), and I needed a more functional and business-looking coat that would keep me warm and allow me to enter a business event and still feel presentable. I escaped having to attempt styling a chic look with my arctic parka and got a city parka. I needed it. The temps never rose past 21 degrees that day and the wind blew with such force, which made for quite the hike from our friend Mason’s apartment in the Cobble Hill district of Brooklyn to the Brooklyn Parkway Waterfront by way of the shoreline. I breathed through my mouth because my nose stung when I breathed normally. If only my boots were waterproof in the slushy snow, as my ski socks kept my feet warm so long as they were dry!

View of the City from Brooklyn.

View of the City from Brooklyn.

The Idiotarod shopping cart races
All that said, it was the perfect weekend to be in Brooklyn. On Saturday, the annual Idiotarod shopping cart race took off shortly after noon, near the base of the Brooklyn Bridge. Favorite entrants were the Cart full of Mitt Romney’s Binders Full of Women. The most expansive entrant was the multi-piece speakeasy, complete with piano, bar and gaming table attended by champagne-sipping, gangster-clad men and women. The Pac-Man crew made their outfits out of brightly colored nylon laundry bags and their cart was re-envisioned as the Pac-Man who demonstrated eating fellow crew members dressed as a banana and a cherry. Such an 80s thing. Arriving late but just in time were the Medieval knights in their very detailed chain-mail suits of armor and their just-as-elaborately-constructed catapult, and the Charlie Sheen characters, who dressed their shopping cart with Charlie Sheen movie posters, such as Wall Street, Major League, and Platoon. There were not as many entrants this year, but with the temps as they were, can you blame them? Once they took off, we escaped the outdoors at an equally quick clip.

Medieval shopping cart.

Medieval shopping cart.

Cart full of binders of women!

Cart full of binders of women!

Mason had introduced us to the Chocolate Room on Court Street when we were there in September, so it was only fitting that we retired to this mecca for chocoholics for something to warm our tummies and de-ice our extremities. This time, we tried their seasonal dark spicy hot chocolate (imagine Ancho chili, Chipotle chili, cloves, and cinnamon mixed with Belgian chocolate and Valhrona cocoa powder). You can order your own online, but if you’re in Brooklyn, it is a must-see.

The Brooklyn Museum: Mummies, European painters, feminist art abounds

Rodin and me at the Brooklyn Museum.

Rodin and me at the Brooklyn Museum.

Satiated, warm, and dry, my sister and I set out for the architecturally beautiful Brooklyn Museum. I’d heard about the museum’s world-renowned Egyptian collection, but that was the extent of my knowledge. I wish we had scheduled the entire day because we only saw half of the museum in a hurried three hours. We were greeted by Auguste Rodin sculpture when we entered the building. Surrounding the Beaux-Arts Court, which is equally architecturally stunning, were European works of art, including paintings by Pissarro, Monet, Manet, Kandinsky, and Goya. My two favorites were by Russian artist Vasily Vereshchagin, who painted these two enormous canvases, “A Resting Place of Prisoners” and “The Road of the War Prisoners” (both 1878-1879). The “battle painter,” who had participated in military campaigns as a decorated soldier, painted realistic scenes from many wars. The paintings at the Brooklyn Museum are from the Russo-Turkish War (1877-88). They were very haunting, and he captured both the indifference of the bitter cold and the horrors of death and war without employing a heavy hand.

The Beau-Arts Court, featuring European paintings.

The Beau-Arts Court, featuring European paintings.

The Egyptian collection comprises more than 1,200 artifacts, including sculpture, relief, paintings, pottery, and papyri, across seven galleries. The collection tells the story of Egyptian art from its earliest known origins (circa 3500 B.C.E.) until the Roman era when Egypt was folded into their empire (30 B.C.E.–395 C.E.). While everything was breathtaking and in need of more leisurely time to examine all the details, the most stunning gallery for me was the mummy chamber, which included four mummies, detailed exhibits on the process of mummification, and a very long scroll on the Book of the Dead. The layout of the galleries reminded me of the rooms upon rooms that archeologists found when they discovered the mummies. This collection alone is priceless as a destination point.

Detail of an Egyptian cartonnage, the material of which mummy cases are made.

Detail of an Egyptian cartonnage, the material of which mummy cases are made.

Heidi was familiar with The Dinner Party by Judy Chicago, which is a permanent exhibit at the museum. This installation artwork is by the feminist artist who collaborated with other artists to assemble her vision of a dinner party with 39 place settings, complete with personalized banner and dinner plate, for both mythical and historical women. There are quite a few plates that overtly depict the female vulva, which take issue with the phallic symbols that have been abundant in art history. She started the project in 1974, and it premiered at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art in 1979. It’s an amazing exhibit that all women and especially girls should see to appreciate her contribution to women and art, and to learn about the many important but often forgotten women in history.

Walking the Brooklyn Bridge on a crisp sunny Sunday morning.

Walking the Brooklyn Bridge on a crisp sunny Sunday morning.

Walking the Brooklyn Bridge under a full moon
The Brooklyn gods were smiling upon Heidi and me Sunday morning, as we were determined to walk that bridge. It was something I was advised to do when I was in New York in 2008, and I vowed to do it the next time I was in town. Tragically, last September, Heidi and I walked the Manhattan Bridge by accident, but it guaranteed that we had to return to Brooklyn again. And so we did, and so the wind and freezing temperatures of Saturday did not deter us.

It was 31 degrees, sunny with no wind – a perfect day to traipse across this beautiful bridge and enjoy the skyline. We spent the day at the Museum of Modern Art (more on that in the next blog entry) and then after returning to a few local haunts (In God We Trust and End of Century), we decided to walk the bridge back to Brooklyn at night. It was seven in the evening when we began our walk with the full moon and the city lights as accessories to this glorious old bridge. It was really invigorating.

New York under a full moon seen from the Brooklyn Bridge.

New York under a full moon seen from the Brooklyn Bridge.

Dinner at Talde
How to celebrate another wonderful day? Saturday evening, Heidi and I had the best pulled pork sandwich I’ve ever had, along with a well-paired Cabernet Sauvignon at Pork Slope, a roadhouse-inspired bar by Top Chef alum Dale Talde and his partners that takes its name from its neighborhood of Park Slope. Talde actually has three restaurants in Park Slope (Thistle Hill Tavern serves casual seasonal tavern fare and handcrafted cocktails). So we met Mason at Talde‘s namesake restaurant, a casual Asian-American restaurant and bar. Talde was previously a sous chef at Buddakan, where David and I dined and swooned over the food back in 2008 in the Chelsea district.

So forgive me my inclination to tell you all what we had for dinner. For appetizers, we had kale salad with hazelnut ponzu and persimmon, green mango salad with crushed peanuts and Thai chili, and Hawaiian bread buns with Filipino pork sausage (of course) and pickled shallots and garlic vinegar mayo. Our noodle selection was crispy oyster and bacon pad thai, and our side dish was roasted cauliflower. Our main entrees were smoked charred sui pork shoulder with peanuts and autumn pears and wok-charred Black Angus rib eye, to go along with our sangiovese. For dessert, we had chocolate bar cookies and, couldn’t resist, Talde’s version of Halo-Halo, a Filipino dessert that is made of shaved ice and the various versions have different ingredients such as creamed corn, shredded cantaloupe, and condensed sweetened milk. Talde’s version had Cap’n Crunch, which I was not all that keen on, but it goes with the tradition of making the dessert your own with different ingredients. It was an unbelievably satisfying meal. And one that I will definitely take David to, as he is a big Top Chef fan and a foodie. If you’re ever in Brooklyn, I highly recommend Talde.

We are now in Manhattan, and though I love Manhattan, there is nothing like Brooklyn. I remember telling friends when I returned home in September that I would move to Brooklyn in a heartbeat. Oh, they said, the humid summers and frigid winters will change your mind. Well, the frigid winters didn’t sway me. I guess I’ll have to come back in the summer to test the other half of their hypothesis. Game on!

Welcome back to Brooklyn at the foot of the Brooklyn Bridge!

Welcome back to Brooklyn at the foot of the Brooklyn Bridge!