I'm taking mental vacations today, since I'm stranded in ice here at home.
In my mind, I'll be heading to the Amalfi coast and Capri...
...or maybe, while the white stuff out there is blinding my eyes, I'll just pretend that I'm lounging on Lake Como instead...
...perhaps I'll take a jaunt over to Isola Bella off Lago Maggiore for the afternoon, and climb the terrace steps again...
For dinner, a ride in a Venetian gondola through the canals, with operatic serenades, and sample some prosecco into the wee hours, dancing in the Piazza San Marco...
So, just for a little while, until I open my eyes again, I'll forget the cold,...
...and enjoy my brief reverie... Join me?
"Dreams are necessary to life." (--Anais Nin) (Internet photos)
Water, milk, juice, eggs, various and sundry breads: check. Radios, batteries, shovels, charged cellphones: check.
Wine, cider and spices for mulling, pasta, good assortments of fruits/veggies, fixin's for soups, Trader Joe's macarons: check. Salt, food set out for the birds: check. Wood for the fireplace, warm sweaters, cozy blankets to curl up in: check. Paints/papers, books, music, movies: check. We're ready and good to go: Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow...
Particularly when my son Eric was small, the two of us would head out to local farms where we lived in Virginia, to go strawberry-picking. It was great fun; a ritual for us for a number of years. I always used to think the farmers should have weighed him as we entered the fields, and then again as we left, because God knows he ate so many more right there in the fields than ever ended up in our buckets. I'm sure they could have charged me far more than they ever did for the pints we picked.
"Strawberries that in gardens grow Are plump and juicy and fine, But sweeter far as wise men know Spring from the woodland vine.
No need for bowl or silver spoon, Sugar or spice or cream, Has the wild berry plucked in June Beside the trickling stream."
(from "Wild Strawberries" by Robert Graves)
"Doubtless God could have made a better berry (than the strawberry,) but doubtless God never did." (--William Allen Butler)
There are some days when it just makes no sense to get out of bed at all, does it?
Well,...:of course, you do get up, but it's definitely on the wrong side of the bed...
...those bitter winter mornings when it's still dark outside, and you face a cruel chill the minute you set your delicate toes on the floor. The shower needs time to warm up, and you stress because you know you have to bundle up and rush outside for a minute, just to warm up the car so the windows can defrost while you're drying out your hair and choosing what to wear for the day, right?
The traffic is crazy, now that you've left a few minutes later (because of the defrosting,) and then, the minute you get to work, watching your breath curl around your face, and open the doors to head inside, it hits you that the fire alarm is sounding, and a very robotic voice is instructing you to "please vacate the building," only to leave you again out in that wretched cold air.
Aaaah, it's a harsh world, in this wintery time of the year...
"I went to sleep with gum in my mouth and now there's gum in my hair and when I got out of bed this morning I tripped on the skateboard and by mistake I dropped my sweater in the sink while the water was running and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day."
Eric had me laughing with this facebook post and image on his site today, with this note: "If I had to pick a single animated gif to represent most of my days, this would be a pretty solid choice:"
My thoughts are with all those people who are suffering so terribly in Haiti .
For anyone who is interested, here are a few links to relief organizations who could really use our help in their attempts to aid those victims of the earthquake. Certainly here in our own country, many people are hurting in our difficult economy right now, so not everyone can donate money, but the Haitians are really desperately struggling right now.
I made a donation to UNICEF today. If anyone is able to think of things they can do to help in any way, at all, I hope they will try:
Perhaps because both sets of my grandparents were immigrants to America, genealogy has always been a very strong interest for me. My maternal grandparents were from Scotland, and my paternal grandparents were from Romania. (Below is my Great Auntie Katie in Carstairs Village, Scotland.)
Growing up as small children, my siblings and I definitely experienced what would be considered an "extended family," as we saw our grandparents constantly, and they had a huge impact on our lives. I was very much aware of their immigrant experience through my exposure to them and their worlds, and I've always been acutely aware of how fortunate I am that I had them in my life. (Below, l-r: from my paternal side of the family, my Aunt Rose and Uncle Cas with another relative, Teresa.)
Some years back, I spent about six years doing a lot of research on our family's ancestors, particularly on my maternal Scottish grandparents' side. (My father has generously amassed a fair bit of information about our paternal Romanian grandparents' history, but as anyone who's done genealogical research knows, the work is never-ending, and one day, I'm sure I'll be picking it all up again.) I have collected passports, ship manifests coming through Ellis Island, letters, photos, books, and all sorts of anecdotal stories that I hold dear.
As a tiny child, my mother traveled back to Scotland by ship with her brother Edward, and they both lived there for several years, while my immigrant grandmother was ill here in America. There was no one else to care for the children here in America, since my grandfather worked, and so the children were sent overseas to be with aunties who nurtured and coddled them until they could return and be with their parents again. I often think how hard that must have been for my grandparents to be separated from their tiny children and for the children to be uprooted and sent to Scotland. Thankfully, my mother always had happy memories of that period, and shared much of her experience there with me. (Below: mommy and Uncle Ed's passport for heading back to Scotland:)
I'd initially become interested in doing research on our ancestors because my mom had MS (Multiple Sclerosis) and I had read that Scotland had the highest number of cases of MS worldwide. I was curious if any other relatives had had it in the past. (Supposedly, MS is not hereditary, but there is most likely a genetic predisposition to it.) (Below: l-r: my Grandmother Susan and my Great-grandmother Mary:)
Even as a child, I would marvel at Grandma Schmidt, who left Romania as a young teenager, and traveled by ship to America, barely speaking a word of English, off to make a new life. And Grandma and Grandpa McClafferty taught us things about life in the old villages "back home." Grandma often created entertaining stories that undoubtedly involved people from her past as she wove tales for us as children. I remember thinking, even as a young girl, that my grandparents were "neither fish nor fowl;" not exactly like other Americans, but no longer exactly like those they'd left behind, either. The struggles they faced in their homelands, and the difficulties they faced in a new land, enriched my world probably more than it ever did their own. (Below: Grandma Schmidt's wedding: sadly, I never knew my paternal Grandfather, as he died when I was about 2 months old):
I recently discovered a hauntingly beautiful song that I'd like to share.
It's about the whole immigrant experience, and it struck such a chord with me. A man in Washington, DC, of Irish-American descent, named Peter Jones, discovered a stack of old letters written by his Irish ancestors back home in Kilkelly, County Mayo, Ireland, to his family, and the letters tell the tale of the lives and struggles of these people: those who were left behind and those who went off, emigrating to new lives elsewhere. He put the words in these letters to music, in a beautifully melancholic ballad called "Kilkelly:"
Over New Year's break, I was browsing through old photos, and found some photo images I thought I'd put aside to use for practice sketching. Like everyone else, I feel like I've been so busy, and I haven't painted for a bit, so I am really out of practice,... and confidence, too.
My insecurities emerge when I attempt to draw, since I honestly can't draw, but I find that if I just pick up a paintbrush and sort of loosely sketch out shapes with that, and not with a pencil, I'll tend to be loose, because I feel like I'm just playing then, and I'm more relaxed.
It works for me--I'll never produce a masterpiece that way, but it gets me feeling like I'm having fun, and I'm more likely to keep trying if I do that.
And after all, fun is what it's all about in the first place, isn't it? (These were done in an old, small Arches HP block. It's always interesting to me to see the differences in HP paper vs CP.)
"People rarely succeed unless they have fun in what they are doing." (-Dale Carnegie)
Warmest wishes to everyone for a Very Happy New Year!
Doesn't it seem as if the first days of Christmas just arrived? They've surely taken wing and hastened us along. In the mere blink of an eye, here it is already time to herald in a New Year. There were family and friends' celebrations, visits, lots of eating, merry-making and nostalgic reminiscences... The gift-wrapping is over, the presents were enjoyed...
...but now even the "Jingle Juice" is gone for another year...
and 2010 is upon us, bringing an anticipation all its own. I, for one, am anxious to get on with it and find the possibilities in the New Year.
So grab a chair, settle in, and let's get ready for another 365-day ride around the sun.
And in the meantime, enjoy this: I love this beautiful, haunting version of Auld Lang Syne...grandma would be proud...
It's Christmas, and all the little nooks and crannies of the house are festooned with holiday cheer.
My mother's to blame: When we were growing up, she'd have us head up to the attic, to pull down a treasure trove of boxes just for that time of year. We'd watch in anticipation as all the objets d'art for the season would miraculously emerge on tabletops; festive curtains would replace the everyday fare; swags would grace the stairwells; wreaths and single candles lent their glow to windows and doorways.
The scents wafting through our home today are of cinnamon, cloves, ginger and chocolate. Baking is a ritual that carries with it the magic of the season. A fire's crackling in the fireplace, and we're snug inside on this chilly December night.
Some of the rituals are traditions every year. There's comfort in that, n'est ce pas?
Happiest of Holidays, all!
"Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful." (-Norman Vincent Peale)
Another Thanksgiving is safely ensconced as a warm memory, and the leftovers are still within reach when the urge for comfort food strikes.
So, today, in the warm, fall light, Joe and I ventured out in search of a place that still had tulip bulbs for sale. Not an easy task. I'd looked everywhere this past week.
Since I'd been on the road,and hadn't purchased any bulbs earlier, I was slowly becoming resigned to the fact that we might just have to accept a spring without tulips.
I know..
Qu'est ce que c'est? Incroyable! Sacre Bleu!
Granted, I suppose I could have ordered them online. But fear not: my favorite nursery still had some, and we hurried over to fill bags of bulbs that will gracefully emerge as glorious spring color.
Then, on our way out the door, bags in hand, we happened upon a beautiful white camellia bush that called to us. Mind you, camellias often call to us, and we already have five camellia bushes around our yard in various colors. In all honesty, I wasn't sure where we'd put one more camellia plant, but as luck would have it, we found just the right spot. So...now, we have another beautiful flower.
I head out tomorrow morning on my final fall trip. Now, safe in the knowledge that we're "covered" on the tulip front, I am gently cradling these bulbs into a drawer in the fridge, and after next week, I'll look forward to spending a day digging and tucking promising bulbs into the sweet soil for their burst of color in just a few short months.
Truth, like the burgeoning of a bulb under the soil, however deeply sown, will make its way to the light. (-Ellis Peters)
It's so good to have a few days at home. I know I have much to be thankful for...
I'm not heading off anywhere again until Monday, so I can breathe for a few days...and maybe rest a bit!
"As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them." (-John F Kennedy) (internet photo)
Yesterday, I arrived in Evanston, Illinois, ready and eager to visit Northwestern University in the morning.
As I settled in at the hotel, and glanced out the window, I realized that across the street, there was a Blick Art Supplies Store staring back at me.
I'm like a kid in a candy store when I can explore art supplies to my heart's delight, so needless to say, I high-tailed it over there and spent an hour or so lost in time.
On the way out, I was excited to head back to the hotel and play with my new Yupo pad. The Yupo polypropylene sheets are slick, and the paint just kind of oozes all over the page. It was fun to just slosh the paint on, and watch what it did on its own. I'll be playing around some more with this when I can.
"You can be a rooster one day and a feather duster the next." (--Frank McManus)
"All I could see from where I stood Was three long mountains and a wood;...
...So with my eyes I traced the line Of the horizon, thin and fine...
The sky, I thought, is not so grand; I 'most could touch it with my hand! And reaching up my hand to try, I screamed to feel it touch the sky. I screamed, and--lo!--Infinity came down and settled over me..."
(-- from Edna St Vincent Millay's poem "Renascence")
"How glorious a greeting the sun gives the mountains!" (--John Muir)
(photos from the plane window coming home this weekend, from Portland Oregon, through Utah and the Rocky Mountains)
Yup-- It's here: It's fall. The weather's getting cooler, and the trees are just bursting with flaming color. It's definitely my favorite time of year, for making apple pies and apple crisp. I'm heading home and plan to get right at it for the weekend, since I will be in my own kitchen!
Have a great weekend, all! Enjoy the brisk fall weather! (Today's my younger sister Claudia's birthday! Happy Birthday, Claudia!)
How'd that happen!? Seems like just yesterday I was about 8.
I remember once when my mom had a birthday in her late 70's, I asked her how she felt, and she said "I feel like I'm 25!" I remember we both laughed, and I said "Well, I've gotta' say, you don't really look 25!" But isn't that wonderful that she felt so young. That's what's important, I think.
I'm definitely at an age where I'm comfortable in my own skin.
"There are three signs of old age: loss of memory...I forget the other two." (-Red Skelton)
"The secret to longevity is to keep breathing." (-Sophie Tucker)
Have a great weekend, all!
As for me, I'll be flying to Eugene, Oregon tomorrow, and then taking a meandering drive to northwestern California this weekend.
I spent a good bit of time waiting in airports today...not much time for painting, but I did do a few mediocre sketches sitting there... I had a good bit of company, as you can see...all of us waiting...
"I am waiting for my case to come up and I am waiting for a rebirth of wonder...
"I am waiting for the Great Divide to be crossed, and I am anxiously waiting for the secret of eternal life to be discovered...
"and I am perpetually waiting for the fleeing lovers on the Grecian Urn to catch each other up at last and embrace and I am awaiting perpetually and forever a renaissance of wonder"
Excerpts from "I Am Waiting" from: A Coney Island of the Mind (-Lawrence Ferlinghetti)
"I took a course in speed-waiting. Now I can wait an hour in only ten minutes." (--Steven Wright)
Today, while I was visiting the University of Wisconsin in Madison, I stumbled upon the Allen Centennial Gardens, a beautiful, serene oasis, smack dab in the middle of a bustling urban campus.
It's my first day of hightailing it all over the country, and of course, when I hit this campus, I saw the usual rows of bikes lined up the way they always are. I smiled, as they made me realize I'm definitely "back at it." This campus in particular has a large number of students who navigate with their Vespas, tooling around town, and up and down the meandering hills.
I've been to this campus numerous times before, and I'm accustomed to the swarms of students and sounds of quads filled with people hurrying from class to class with iPods and cell phones in tow. The campus is situated partially on an isthmus between Lake Mendota and Lake Menona, and I'd seen the calm waters there before and the lovely trails that lie parallel to it.
But if there's ever a spot on a campus that suggests serenity, you can be sure I'm going to do my best to light on it as quickly as possible. I'd never seen this peaceful spot before, so needless to say, I was thrilled to discover it today.
The Allen Centennial Gardens is a stunning horticultural teaching garden that serves as an instructional outdoor lab, but it also enhances the campus with bursts of colorful flowers, creative landscaping and a graceful tranquility.
These trips take me forever to plan and coordinate, between routing trips and schedules, booking flights and rental cars, haggling with hotels, working around fairs I also need to attend, and making contacts at each school, and after months at it all, I definitely stress myself before I head out on the road, worrying that I'll forget some detail or other, even though this is my seventh year on the road doing this.
But at the end of the day, once I get out on the road, it invariably hits me all over again just how fortunate I am to see so much of the country that I might not see otherwise, and I marvel that I get to experience, firsthand, the beautiful campuses I see all over America.
"Good fortune is what happens when opportunity meets with planning." (-Thomas Edison)
I'm taking mental vacations today, since I'm stranded in ice here at home.
...or maybe, while the white stuff out there is blinding my eyes, I'll just pretend that I'm lounging on Lake Como instead...
...perhaps I'll take a jaunt over to Isola Bella off Lago Maggiore for the afternoon, and climb the terrace steps again...
For dinner, a ride in a Venetian gondola through the canals, with operatic serenades, and sample some prosecco into the wee hours, dancing in the Piazza San Marco...
...and enjoy my brief reverie...
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