Winter Whites and Blues

It's official. Winter has set in with a vengeance. Life has slowed down here almost to a crawl. The phone has stopped ringing and I'm considering cutting off service. Who needs friends anyway? I've got a subscription to Netflix!

Oh well. Spring will come (at least that's what everyone tells me, in the rare moments of human contact that I do have).

Meanwhile, there are things to notice. A hawk. Ice on a branch. Blue sky exploding behind a tree.

Updike

I was just scanning the BBC headlines and I saw that writer John Updike has died. I don't know why, but the news shocked me. He is one of those figures who seems to have been around forever - solid and immortal, like a building.

I haven't read any of his books in ages, but I remember reading him in high school and envying his way with words. Not to mention the, uh, juicy bits.

Here's a quote from a section in the obits called "Updike in his own words," about what sets a writer apart:

"There's a kind of confessional impulse that not every literate, intelligent person has. A crazy belief that you have some exciting news about being alive, and I guess that more than talent is what separates those who do it from those who think they'd like to do it. That your witness to the universe can't be duplicated, that only you can provide it, and that it's worth providing."
Boston Globe, 1990

A Few Words About the Crowds

As I mentioned in an earlier post, many people felt compelled to warn me about "the crowds" before we went to the inauguration last week. While my response was perhaps a bit flippant at the time ("I've lived in the densest capital city in Western Europe; I can handle Obama crowds"), it really is something which has been on my mind, as a subtext to this entire event. And so I ask myself now: What about the crowds? How were they? What was it like to be in a place where MILLIONS of people congregated, in the US of A?

Well, first of all, I can't speak for what the crowds on the Mall were like, because we never got on there. No tickets, no luck. But I can say that I was surrounded by hundreds and possibly thousands of people at several points throughout the day (a little like Paris during the sales). We found ourselves in enormously long lines to buy Metro tickets, to get into the gates to see the parade, and then to go home from Union Station. At all these points the possibility for stress and conflict was high - and I can easily imagine other situations where fights might have broken out (I'm thinking mainly about sporting events). Yet the mood was calm. People were patient. There was a sense of, "We've waited 400 years for this to happen, we can wait another hour or two!" I talked to one woman who had been waiting to get onto the Mall since 5 in the morning and never got on - yet she was not bitter, or complaining. She was just happy to be part of the history in the making, part of the event.

If only every crowd could be like the ones we experienced, I think people who normally hate crowds (like me, often) would change their thinking about them. Honestly, everyone around us was so polite, kind, so - how can I put it? - downright NICE, I felt my latent misanthropy slowly melt away (and in truth, I think everyone was too cold to start a fuss!). No one pushed, no one shoved - a woman shared her Tic-Tacs with me - it really felt like everyone was on their best behavior. At one point outside the parade gates, a few people who were complaining and pushing got seriously chastised by the people around them. Peer pressure in the name of civility! I love it. Which speaks volumes about Obama, and the kind of energy he puts out and creates. Contrast that with the testosterone-fueled energy of sporting events - what a difference. Maybe so many Americans hate crowds because crowds here so often lean towards violence (or that's the perception)? Because our collective unconscious remembers things like Kent State, or race riots, and the fact of police shooting at citizens? Or because we are just by nature wary of the power of mass protest?

Perhaps part of the Obama legacy will be a raised level of civic awareness, so that Americans can learn how to be in crowds peacefully, and joyfully, without the usual fear or distrust in the equation. I would hope this could be created without the need for so many security forces - that we could learn to trust eachother, and ourselves, without someone in uniform scaring us all into submission. Well, that's another dream for another day. For now, I'm just happy that things were as surprisingly pleasant as they were. Another bonus point to add to the evergrowing Obama pile!

Showing Up for History

We're back from our trip and I am still dazed by the experience. Were we really there? I look at the photos and can't believe we were. It has already become a blur of driving, looking at maps, standing in the cold, and having dozens of small conversations with strangers who didn't feel like strangers, in a country that felt like home for the first time in a very long time.

I think that is what will stay with me the most - the people I met and who I stood next to: all so different but all connected by the same desire for change. All there in one place, on one day, for one person, in the form of Obama -- but also for a shared set of ideals that is much larger than one man. Yes, I felt that. A dream of society which I carried with me once, long ago, a dream my mother gave me (as Obama's mother gave him), and some teachers and leaders tried to help me remember, but which lost force over the years, as I gave in to the easier path of cynicism and apathy.

There have been plenty enough superlatives going around the internet in the last few days, and plenty enough written about the event, so I'll just say one more thing: I'm glad we were there.

As Alessandra Stanley writes in the NYT:

"Television celebrated a new president making history, but the screen also belonged to those millions in Washington who made history just by showing up."

I hope that in future times of darkness and cynicism (which are bound to occur), people will look back and remember this event as evidence that, with the right kind of leadership and inspiration, Americans can come together peacefully, truly as one people, one nation. (And what more proof do we need than to know that in a crowd of maybe over 2 million, there was not a single arrest or violent event?)

(You can see a little video we made of our trip on www.roadmuse.com)

Showing Up for History, Part 2 (images)

We're Off to See Obama!

We said we would go, then we said we wouldn't, then we said we would - and now we're going. Yes, it's winter, and there is snow all over the place, not my favorite time to start a road trip. And yes, I know there will be humungous crowds in DC (I swear, if one more person tells me about the crowds, my head is going to explode! I lived for over 6 years in the mostly densely populated city in western europe - I think I can handle Obama crowds for a few hours).

So that's all - just a quick note to whoever happens to be awake or on the computer right now, breathlessly awaiting my next installment (ha!).

Stay tuned for photos, anecdotes, and more!

Winter Sunset

Winter Abstract

Snowstorm the Third

These are some images of last weekend's snowstorm. I would have posted them sooner but life has been so busy lately. Winter in New England is full of all sorts of fun and exciting activities! This morning, for example, we spent a few hours dealing with the bathtub drain, which had become clogged, possibly due to a frozen pipe. It was an eye-opening, as well as drain-opening, experience. Why, I didn't know human beings even had so much body hair to lose.

(On a practical note, if this ever happens to you, I highly recommend the Lowe's online how-to library as a resource. It saved us a lot of time and aggravation, most significantly by explaining to us what kind of drain we had, so that were able to remove the tub stopper by loosening something called a "set screw." Yes, I know, purely fascinating information - and you thought I was kidding with the title of this blog??)

Chilly Scenes of Winter

Nothing much to report these days, except that it's cold. Temps in the low teens during the day, lower at night. The other night the temperature went down to 1 degree fahrenheit, which is pretty darn cold no matter how you slice it. I imagine the number 1, a cold thin wraith of a number, shivering against a clanking radiator, trying to suck whatever warmth it can.

The city of Somerville is taking the cold very seriously. They left a recorded message on our home phone with information about "warming centers" where people without heat or shelter can go. We are so lucky to have heat, and insulated windows, and a stove to cook on, and a fireplace - what luxuries! There is nothing like being cold to make you grateful for what you have. Returning home after being outside has become a supremely pleasurable experience in and of itself.

Elephant Memories

This little guy gets the prize for most original (and possibly easiest) outdoor holiday decoration in my neighborhood.

It also reminds me that I want to host a white elephant party soon - you know, where you wrap up unwanted gifts (or items from your house that you never use) and make a game of swapping them. You can read gobs about this phenomenon here - as well as see tons of different names for it (my favorite is "Steal Old Man Christmas's Bindle"). Several years ago, I got a Dinah Shore cookbook at a white elephant swap. I sold and gave away most of my books when I left Paris, but guess which one I held onto?

Funny the things you grow attached to. Something about that green sweater, I think.

A Walk in Olde Cambridge

Cambridge, Mass, that is - these are buildings in the Harvard Divinity School courtyard. But it does feel like Professor Dumbledore could come around a corner at any moment.

One thing I didn't notice while taking these photos (probably since I was balancing a cup of hot chocolate in my freezing, mitten-clumsy hands), is the pattern on the walkway in the third photo, the way it mimics the tree branches. And hey - there's a bird looking backwards in the last photo (can you find it?).

In Defense of Blogging (a brief polemic)

I think it was Katherine Hepburn who said that there is nothing more invigorating than a good enemy. In a similar vein, I often feel that my creative self is strengthened by adversarial comments as much as by praise. Perhaps because it is in the process of defending myself and my art, that I get the most clarity and purpose about what I'm doing and where I want to go. It's not always a pleasant process, but the end result almost always leaves me stronger and heartier than I was before. Kind of like swallowing cod liver oil.

Hence this little dissertation on blogging - what it means to me, why I do it, and why I will defend it to the end, both to real or imagined detractors. (side note: this photo is not directly related to blogging - it's just my bulletin board which is what I happen to be looking at while at my desk.)

What's motivating me to defend myself anyway? Well, recently a friend commented "I always thought of people who blog as having too much time on their hands." I don't know if this was aimed at me directly, but I certainly took offense. And I instantly thought of some of the blogs I read and admire - The Sartorialist, A Dress A Day, Tea & Cookies, Blue Lotus, Karin's Style Blog, to name a few - by bloggers who seem, rather than having time on their hands, to have their hands on time. That is, to be extremely good at doing whatever they do (cooking, crafting, making dresses, taking photos) AND blogging about it. These are my role models, and I aspire to be more like them some day - more productive, more time-efficient, better at documenting my art and my journey.

But meanwhile, I blog because....I like it.

I like the way blogging gives me an outlet, a forum, a way to organize my thoughts and my vision. Far from being a time-waster, I feel that blogging is a very useful and therapeutic process which actually HELPS to get the energy moving for me to do other creative things. Moreover, it gives me the feeling of having an audience (even it's only two people), which is so essential to break the solitude of painting. Some people use drugs, some people use therapy (I have - but it's too expensive), some people use social activities (or facebook), or movies, or yoga, or whatever - all of which take that crucial ingredient - time. I don't see that blogging is necessarily more time-killing than anything else one does in a day. And it actually inspires me as much as or more than any of the activities listed above. And it's free!

At various times in my life I've heard the comment "You've got too much time on your hands," usually when i was doing something creative that had no end product in mind, i.e., no money or "goal" attached (and usually from people who seemed creatively frustrated themselves). No matter how busy I was with school or jobs or whatever, I ALWAYS found time to do something absolutely useless but creative - write songs, make cards, draw little cartoons, put on a play, or whatever. Are these things killing time? Or am I just "keeping the channel open" as Martha Graham instructs artists to do?* (see quote below)

So there you have it - a long answer to what was probably just a casual comment by a friend. Well, consider yourself more educated now about blogs and the creative process (and about me) ;-)

happy new year!

*Here is the full quotation, which inspires me each and every time I read it:
'"There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all of time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and it will be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is nor how valuable nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open. You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep yourself open and aware to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open. ... No artist is pleased. [There is] no satisfaction whatever at any time. There is only a queer divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the others"' - Martha Graham

Blank Canvas Empty Mind

Something - or rather, nothing - to start the New Year with.

Winter Song

Just as I was lamenting not hearing enough music during this holiday season, I saw this man playing a barbeque grill (!) and singing his heart out at our local shopping center right before Christmas.

He wasn't playing a carol or holiday song, but I think his choice was very appropriate for right here, right now.

There is a beautiful photo essay on youtube featuring this song ("Streets of London" by Ralph McTell). Take a minute to listen and watch it, I promise it will add something to your day.

Cling Wrap Aquarium (holiday activity)

Recipe for a Cling Wrap Aquarium

Ingredients:
-- one 2-and-a-half-year-old (with 2-and-a-half-year-old's imagination)
--one adult who is good with kids but sort of lazy (doesn't want to clean up water on the floor)
--some toy fish and sharks and stuff
--some big rocks and shells (optional)
--a colorful scarf (preferably blue/green color)
--plastic wrap

Arrange sea creatures, rocks, and shells on colored scarf or fabric (colored paper could also work). Remember from some old movie that giant squid likes to hide under rocks, and place him there, telling child authoritatively why you are doing so.

Cover everything with plastic wrap and pretend it's water (the child will believe you, if you believe it).

Sit back and hope the parents come home before the novelty of this activity wears off and the child panicks, thinking he is stuck with you forever.

Snowstorm Redux

Regarding my earlier post, I should say that there was something exciting about New Year's Eve this year - we had a snowstorm. So that makes a perfect bookend for our snowstorm right before Christmas Eve. With all sorts of crazy, unseasonal and seasonal weather in between. Global warming or just general New England weather mayhem? Man, I keep thinking of those Puritans, arriving here from Merrie Olde Englande, thinking the weather here would be similarly mild. What a shock that must have been to have been proven so wrong.