Driving down memory lane...

Back a few years ago, I was lucky to visit an old friend from my high school days. I met Norma at my first job back in 1966. After receiving her Masters in Social Psychology at UCLA she surprised us all and married a doctor and moved to an Amish community outside of Cleveland, Ohio. This lovely lane is a quarter of a mile from house to road where the mail box resides. Although these photos are in black and white, I also have some in color with all the fall leaves in full regalia. This land is beautiful whether dressed in greens, oranges or snowy white.  
Early one morning I snuck out of the house with my film camera and took a couple of rolls. The great thing about digital cameras is that you can review your pictures right away. It was always a surprise when I developed the film and saw the results, good or bad.  Since Tom, the doctor, had a practice, part of the 90 acre farm was leased to an Amish farmer next door. Walking through the cornfields was a thrill for a girl originally from Hawaii who grew up in the barrios of East Los Angeles. The closest thing to a farm I knew was singing "Old MacDonald had a farm..."  

As I explored the area I came upon this beautiful sight. The sun coming through the stand of trees caught my breath. It was so quiet that morning. It felt like I had walked into the holiest of holies. This was better than any church I had ever visited. I felt closer to the powers that be than ever before.
This lovely building is not a church but an old schoolhouse.  The former owner of Norma and Tom's house was a school teacher who had taught in this one room schoolhouse for many years. The school was actually in another location and Tom found out that she had taught there for many years.  When it came up for sale, he was determined to unite that schoolhouse with the spirit of its former teacher, who most assuredly resides in their home.  So over hills and dales, this house was dragged across the fields until it landed in Norma and Tom's backyard. It's currently used as a woodworking shop for Tom's tinkering.  Norma said in passing that if I wanted to retire here, I could move into the schoolhouse.  Wouldn't that be a dream?

By the way, you might be interested to know that it was Norma's Mom, Elisa, who found a "nice doctor" for her only daughter to marry. Elisa was a nurse's aide at General Hospital in Los Angeles where Tom was doing his residency.  Some fairy tales still happen... at least back in the 70's they did.  My Mom worked at Sears Roebuck.  I never married.  

Would Vincent love the cupcake?

"A good picture is equivalent to a good deed." Vincent Van Gogh

And what great deeds were given to us by Van Gogh! When I think about Van Gogh, I often think sunflowers. I love standing face to face with a sunflower bigger than your own head. Whether dead or alive there is endless depth and beauty.

The closer you get the more you see.  I used to paint and draw.  Although it's very satisfying to do both, of late, I take photos.   I try to take a photo every day. Sometimes it's a great meal, sometimes I try to take a random picture out the window while driving (not recommended), and sometimes I'll take 100 photos if I'm somewhere photo-worthy. If Vincent's quote is true, I'm racking up points in good pictures. They may not be good to others, but if it sings to me, it's good enough. Taking a good photo has elevated my happiness quotient. It's like accomplishing something on a day where you feel like you've done nothing worthwhile. It's like seeing something new and good in the world each day. Some different perspective, some different view about something. It's about finding beauty in ordinary everyday life. A friend in Minnesota laughed when I took a photo of her old sink and faucet. I thought it was beautiful. The photo hangs in my bathroom. I think of her everyday when I see that old sink and faucet that has long been replaced with something new.

This next photo was taken of sunflowers left on the patio table after a rainstorm in Boston. The photo itself looks like a painting.  Double points on this one.
So admire real sunflowers, eat the delicious seeds, scatter them on your bread and salads and cereal and then go to Whole Foods and treat yourself to a sunflower cupcake.  What I would give to hand one of these cupcakes to Vincent while he sips his absinthe. 

What do you do with YOUR lint?

So, what do you do with your lint?  If you're Dianne (my friend from Swampscott), you bottle it when you're done with the laundry.  How come my lint doesn't look like this?  I've had artist friends come to beg for lint so handmade paper-making activities can abound, but bottling it? Isn't it fantastic? There I was sitting in the john that is off the kitchen looking around... a stand of joke books, old New Yorker magazines, kitty litter box, cases of Diet Coke, and the shelf with bottles of lint. My lint usually looks all shades of gray, but not pink and blue, etc.  When in doubt about making art... start bottling...

Hey, Who Ate My Cupcake?

Each November we put on an art retreat in beautiful Santa Barbara for a group of like-minded eraser-carving nuts. Besides our annual obligation of creating hand-stamped cards for each other based on our carvings, we also try to provide some fun projects to work on between trips to town, eating, catching up with each other's stories, and enjoying the peace and serenity of La Casa de Maria where we hold the retreat.   Is that a run-on sentence? Whew!  I'm the queen of run-on, ask anyone. 

 

Our first project this year was to make a felt pincushion in the shape of a delicious cupcake. When I asked Wendy (our teacher for the project) to do it, I wondered how many of our participants would like it.  What was I thinking? We were totally immersed in cupcake making. How did we bake these cupcakes? With the heat of our combined energy and all the hot air we were spewing as we excitedly bandied about baubles and beads.  The only down-side of this project was that most of us are of an "age" and had trouble finding the eye of the beading needles.  How we laughed about that!  Wendy had to help us out with this (she's still a babe among the crones).

 

Here's a pic of our finished cupcakes and a sample of the card I created this year for our exchange.   I had cupcakes on the brain after making it and decided to carve a cupcake and a needle and create a recipe card on how to make it.  The yellow pincushion in the pic with the three cupcakes is mine.  I was so proud of it.  Thank the Lord I took pics of it because when I got to Boston, it was devoured by Tuttle (the cute wirehaired doxie puppy).  You can see the results. I had 4 needles in it and only found 3 but we were sure that Tuttle didn't swallow it. Oy! I was so sad but couldn't be mad.  One look from Tuttle and you just had to smile at her naughtiness. Actually, I can't blame Tuttle totally, because Tigger (the cat) must have first knocked it off the table for short-legged Tuttle to have her appetizer.  She barked out YUMMY! 

Trailer Museum

Vacation is over and I'm back home at the trailer.  Now what do I blog about?  I guess I'll start with a few photos from the Okamoto Trailer Museum.  Hope you're laughing.  Back in the mid-seventies I went on my first vacation to Mexico with a geologist friend of mine from Jet Propulsion Laboratory (JPL).  I was lucky to work there for about 3 1/2 years while I was in college.  Anyway, Elsa and I went to Mexico City, Oaxaca, Taxco, the jungles of Yucatan and Isla Mujeres over a 3 week period.  We lived for under $10 a day and had a fantastic trip.  It really gave me a taste for travel and I've been hooked ever since.  I'll have to blog about that trip someday.  We had gone in Nov/Dec so I purchased several tin milagros (miracles) for about 5 cents a piece and sent them with my Christmas cards that year.  Now you find these same or similar tin decorations for $2-15.00 a piece stateside.  You'll see a few of them on my walls at home.  

I also have a collection of handmade dolls on my living room wall above a velvety cush red sofa with a spiral design.  You might recognize some of Teesha Moore's dolls on the wall.  Anyway, my home is a mish-mosh of eclectic art everywhere as well as all the clutter of a business gone awry.  Collecting stuff has been a fun part of my life over the years.  Having had two mall stores didn't help.  Even though they were art rubber stamp stores, I had an odd mix of unusual gifts, art books, cards and ephemera to boot.  Anything that didn't sell by the time I closed the stores somehow made it to my hovel as you can see in the photos.  And you haven't seen nothin' yet!  Thank goodness the blog only allows a few pics because I have so much more to show you.

Molten Caramel Rock

So on we went to the Museum of Fine Arts across the street from the Isabella. There was a special showing called Secrets of Tomb 10A: Egypt 2000 B.C. Terrific and fascinating show. We were watching a video on the discovery and there was talk about all the looting that went on over the millennia and Dianne commented that what's the difference between that looting and our looting the tomb. This tomb was untouched for 4000 years and here we are yanking everything out. It's true, but I was glad to have seen it. I've been so attached to my "stuff" so it was appealing that Egyptians liked to take what they needed to live in the next life. I'd have to have a mighty BIG coffin or tomb on my way out.

Dianne mentioned that she knew the artist, Jonathan Borofsky (from her Maine days). He's got several flying bodies hanging from the ceiling throughout the museum. I particularly loved Zhan Wang's Artificial Rock #85 (stainless steel). At first, I wasn't impressed by the giant rock, but when I started to take closeups of the rock, you'll see just how awesome it really is and how many colors it reflects. Almost looks like a molten lava flow but in caramel. All in all, a very good day. Sigh, I wish life was like this back home at the trailer. I'll have nothing to blog about when I get home.

Food and Art

What's a perfect day to me? Ummm... I'd say a divine combo meal for mind and body. Today, the trio (Dianne, David and I) went to one of my favorite museums, the Isabella Stewart Gardner in Boston, MA. We had a divine luncheon (so civilized) then on to the Museum of Fine Arts (MFA). Okay, first things first... the meal. It's actually the Isabella where Dianne and I first met in 1990 for a blind date luncheon. We were both in a mail art writing group called RAPS (Rubber Amateur Press Society) where I first encountered her. When I knew I was to travel to Boston for the first time on business, I called her and asked if we could meet. We were both nervous about our first meeting so she suggested having lunch at Isabella's. It was love at first sight and we've been fast friends ever since. The rapturous food had to have helped. So today for lunch, David had the Brazilian Style Fish Stew with halibut, shrimp and cilantro. Dianne had the Crispy Atlantic Salmon Cake with white bean and cauliflower salad. I had the Moroccan Style Lamb Tagine with a mixed olive couscous salad. I hope you can figure out what's what on the photos because I don't know how to make captions for each photo. For dessert we shared the White Chocolate Bread pudding with brown sugar butter. YUM! Life is good, eh?

Sadly, I found out that I wasn't allowed to take any photos of the garden area at Isabella. It's really a breathtaking Italian garden. When the sunlight shifts, it stirs the heart and makes my eyes tear up. I was really hoping to get some new photos. Somewhere in my warehouse are some great photos I took with my film camera years ago. Now I'm determined to find them.

Squeeze the hand of Buddha

We went to the local Stop 'n Shop (supermarket) and explored the produce aisle. Why does food always look better in another State? More kinds of cheese, deli meats, better brands of potato chips, etc. Okay, can someone tell me how to squeeze or cook with Buddha hands? It felt and looked liked lemons. I love to cook and have recently got hooked on the Food Network. I'll have to ask about these Buddha hands. Maybe a meditation will enlighten me with a new recipe.

A couple of days ago we went to the incredible PEM (Peabody Essex Museum) in Salem,

MA. I love this place.

Great gift shop too! We

went to see a special exhibit, Rare Bird of Fashion, The Irreverent Iris Apfel.

Unbelievable bling on clothes from past decades. I'm especially fond of jewelry finds from exotic lands. You know how the jewelry fad now is to wear big and layered? Well, you have no idea what BIG or LAYERED is until you see this stuff. There was a fun interactive computer set up to mix and match the clothes and jewelry on display. The combos were endless and really fun to do. If you haven't seen the Chinese house, you must stop by to see it. Great gift shop as well. One year I happened to be here when they had an incredible sale. I'm not so lucky this time.

What I like to do at museums, besides seeing its contents is to look up. I've got tons of photos of the "ups" in places throughout the States and in England. Photos are such a joy. Each one takes you back to such incredible memories.

That same day we ate at Red's (a local favorite) Restaurant. We ordered barbecue ribs. I could barely eat them. I'm not usually a barbecue fan, but it was the special and we ordered it. I hate getting messy with sauce everywhere so that's another reason I didn't enjoy it as much. However, take a look at Dianne and you can see what is required in eating a plateful of ribs. By the time she was done, she was a mess, like a three year old. It was hilarious. Waitresses also had to comment.

Okay, it's time to run. We're off to the Museum of Fine Arts and the Isabella Stewart Gardner (another of my favs). More soon...

A Dream of Another Life

I've been to Dianne's home many times over the years and each time I imagine what life would be like here on the East Coast. I was born in Honolulu but only lived there until I was six. My family moved to East Los Angeles back in the early 50's so I grew up in a Jewish and Mexican neighborhood. One night I was celebrating the Sabbath and the next night I was helping a family make tamales. And in all that time, I never related to being Japanese, but that's another story. I used to tell my friends that I was forced to live with this weird Japanese family. My friends referred to me lovingly as their little Nipsekan.

As my business grew, I traveled some 25 to 30 weekends a year from one coast to the other. You can imagine how many wonderful friends I have made over the years. My friend Dianne is an artist, a Renaissance woman in every way. She just had a one woman show in Marblehead, MA and just had a book published of her Mail Art correspondence with an acquaintance who just had the lowdown on

how to self-publish. I've become a part of the household since the early 90's and it's been wonderful to experience what life on the East Coast is like on my many visits. Since I have lived alone since I was 20, it's pretty amazing to be thrown in an active household full of pets and guests and friends and so much stuff to do every day. Being single, I have never known what it is to have children, pets and so much responsibility to everyone and everything. All I've had to worry about is myself and my company. At its peak, I had 28 employees and it often felt like I was the matriarch of a huge family. But the bottom line is that I went home alone and had peace and quiet on a regular basis. And yet, I love all the drama and action and constant stimuli that goes along with this family.

Another attraction is Dianne's house. Built in 1893, it's a beauty. Three stories and a full basement. In contrast I live in a 2 bedroom trailer built in 1983. Climbing to my third floor guestroom is a challenge every night, but the view is worth it. From this Swampscott home on a slight hill, I can see the ocean with Nahant (a skinny peninsula) ahead and the cityscape of Boston in the distance to the right. Yesterday was a glorious sunny and clear day in the upper 60's. This morning the entire landscape is covered in beautiful snow. The sun is bright (around 40 degrees) and reflects the blinding white apparition. For me, it's a humbling experience. So cold, so beautiful and so scary. My friends relay stories of accidents, cars sliding down the road, shoveling snow, etc.

A few years ago, Dianne sent a package to my office. I was so anxious to open it, I tore into it back in the production dept. As I began pulling out all the wonderful gifts she had sent, we discovered a photo of Dianne's naked rear end, completely purple and black and yellow from having fallen down the front porch steps on her behind on some black ice. My staff had a rude introduction to my friend from the East. We laughed all morning.

The photo of the stairs is my view from the third floor landing. Those large life-size dolls in the living room are some of the dolls we brought back from the one-woman show that Dianne had in Marblehead, MA. There will be another post on this later. I'm just trying to get a grip on how to do this blog. I'm really working blindly here. I have to say, this is fun. It's so much quicker than writing in my personal journals. Wish I could figure out how to move these pictures around. Oh well, I'll get the hang of it... eventually?

First Day on the Blog

There is something really satisfying about eating a steamed artichoke on a flight at 37,000 ft. No one else is eating one or even thought to eat one while in flight. Even if I had a first class seat, I venture to say that they wouldn't be serving it. Best Foods mayo (ran out of Garlic Aioli from Follow Your Heart) in a cute Tupperware, a plastic knife to cut away the fuzz, a plastic fork to chop the yummy heart in tiny bite size pieces (to savor it), two napkins, one to neatly place the scraped leaves and one to wipe the mayo off your mouth, a large ziplock to store and then throw the remains away, all on a tiny lap tray on the plane. People on the way to the "john" stole glances at my little table with my treasure trove. I can secretly hear their comments:

"Oh my God, that girl is eating an artichoke on a plane! Who does that?"

"Yum, an artichoke! Why didn't I ever think of that?"

"What on Earth is that woman eating? Must be some Asian thing. Weird!"

Well, it was the most delicious artichoke. Every bite was divine. It was as if I was doing something naughty on the plane. I think food at high altitudes increases my taste buds, because the slightly toasted pita tuna (in olive oil) sandwich I made was also yummy. This time I added mayo, toasted almonds, thinly sliced red grapes, Kalamata olives chopped, freshly cracked pepper, celery and a scallion (white part only). It had that sweet salty crunchy thing going on.

Last night I arrived at Boston Logan a little late, but my friends hadn't eaten dinner yet so there we were at 9 PM having dinner. Salad, leftover grilled shrimp, a bowl of lotus root marinated in sesame oil (so crunchy and good), and steamed broccoli. Really good.

It feels like coming home when I'm at Dianne, David and Anne's home. There are newbies at the Jenkins household here in Swampscott. New kitty... Zippy. New puppy...Tuttle. Old pets: Tootsie (part rat part dog), and Tigger (Aussie cat), old friend: Kat. Oy vey!