Fun as Folks

The photos are coming fast and furious now!  

First and foremost, here is our lovely host and tour guide in Santa Fe, Carol (permission was granted!).  I met Carol through a mutual friend when I was working on The Knitted Mile.  She contributed a fair amount to that project and we have maintained a steady email correspondence since that time.  This was the first time I met someone who I have only known online.  It didn't feel strange - we just dove into our usual conversation.

We had a nice afternoon of knitting and talking while Finn and Lucy played on her iPad.  Everyone was happy.

After days in the car, it is very fun to be out and about using those jointed things we have that some call "legs".  We legged it over to the International Folk Art Museum in Santa Fe, where they have an amazing collection as well as changing exhibitions.

Here are some good luck charms from Italy.  I think my favourites are the lungs.  The entrance to the exhibition halls contained good luck charms from all over the world.  Surprisingly, the images were all very similar.  Or maybe not so surprisingly.

Dolls from Morroco.

A huge installation of ceramic pieces from Mexico.  This section of the museum is one couple's collection of folk art that they donated.  It is installed according to their request, much like the Barnes Collection in Pennsylvania.  The room is chock-a-block full of stuff from everywhere.  It was a little confusing to remember where I had been and what I had missed but I really like it when people don't install art according to some over-arching theme like chronology or geography.  It felt surprisingly personal.

There was a nice collection of samplers.  Unfortunately, they were difficult to photograph through the glass.  I loved this white on white one.

This one was made by a nine year-old girl.  Lucy said that she didn't think she could have done that at nine.  Errr...yeah...me neither.

This was a beauty too.

Loved the red on white.  This one is from Mexico.

One of the special exhibitions was of bridal wear from Macedonia.  These are wedding dresses.  Apparently the women wore this style of dress up until the 1950s.  As a woman aged and bore children, her clothes became increasingly less ornamental.  Less ornamental, that is, until she died and was buried in her wedding dress.  You can draw your own conclusions about what that says about women's value in society.

There were several examples of knit socks.  Again, the glass made them difficult to photograph but they were all stunning examples of colourwork.  I was trying to get a good shot of the heel - it isn't the usual one that I use.  Perhaps Helen can decipher my poor photograph and shed some light on the technique?

At the end of the exhibition, they had a jacket that was similar to the traditional ones on display that visitors could try on to get a sense of how it felt to wear such a costume on an everyday basis.  It weighed 12 lbs. and it was on an adjustable rack attached with springy chords.  Fun!

Santa Fe

We arrived in Santa Fe and it was cold.  So cold, in fact, that it starting snowing soon thereafter.  Somehow, in all my planning, I missed the part about New Mexico having a cold winter climate.  It is in the south, after all!  Ah...northern ignorance.  To be fair, both Carol and Martie sent me emails telling me that it would be cold but I just didn't believe them.

Santa Fe is almost painfully beautiful.  Everywhere you cast your eyes (almost) is lovely and picturesque. This makes it a wonderful place to visit but also makes it a place where lots and lots of people want to visit.  I remain fascinated by tourist culture, so it was both interesting and slightly repelling to be part of that in Santa Fe.

When we arrived at The Plaza - where everyone visiting Santa Fe MUST go - I couldn't leave quickly enough.  This photo is a view of us leaving The Plaza.  You probably have seen pictures of Native Americans selling their handcrafted wares in The Plaza and, despite the low temperatures, there were some there yesterday.  But I couldn't even go near them.  It just felt wrong.  Tourism is so complicated - its social structures and economy - it is hard to express the wave of feelings being in that plaza brought up.  I guess that is why I had to make a five year project about in Newfoundland.

We did visit one tourist site - the Loretto Chapel, home of the "miraculous staircase".  No nails!  No obvious forms of support!  A mysterious carpenter!  It actually was quite fascinating, as is the whole story surrounding it.  

Some remained skeptical. 

This is the view from Carol's house.  She asked me not to post a photo of her despite the fact that I have a really good one, so I will respect that request.  She has a lovely little house that she shares with her husband, Tom, and her sweet, crazy puppy, Toby.  

We took a walk in the evening light and soaked up the beauty of this amazing place.

Not Texas Anymore

When we left Amarillo, the landscape was flatter than flat.  Other than some very disturbing feed lots, where cows filled the horizon as far as the eye could see (please never eat beef if you don't know exactly where it comes from - as Lucy said, you eat the cow's suffering), things were rather empty.  

And then we turned a corner and went over a small rise and everything changed.

We entered New Mexico.  It is hard to explain but there was an immediate change, not just in landscape but in a general feeling.  It wasn't Texas anymore.

A young Johnny Depp, Lucy and I had lunch in Santa Rosa.  We didn't go to the Blue Hole.  We tried but road work made it impossible.  What is the Blue Hole?  I can't tell you because we didn't get there.  But there were signs with arrows.  If you saw signs with arrows pointing to something called the Blue Hole, wouldn't you go?

We did find this.

And this.

Then we turned north to Santa Fe.  A stunning landscape on all sides.

Everything's Bigger in Texas

Mississippi was but a stop-over on our way to one of the primary destinations of this vacation:  Irving, Texas.  Some people looked askance at me when I named Irving as a hot spot for us but what they didn't realize is that, besides being a Dallas suburb and home to Dallas Cowboy Stadium (which, btw, was demolished in 2010 - click here for a video of it being imploded), Irving is home to the Taj Chaat House.

Look!  It is still here!  We stumbled across it in 2008 when we came to Dallas to install The Knitted Mile. Our hotel was in Irving and we were looking for supper.  We took a chance.  Occasionally such chances are rewarded and this time it was so.  The Taj Chaat House offers up some of the best South Indian food outside of South India, and in a style that is so uniquely South Indian, meaning that you fill out paperwork (with carbon copies) to place your order.

It was just as good as we remembered.  We had only one night in Irving so we made an executive decision to make a late getaway the next day.  By delaying, we were able to go to Pink's Western World in the morning.

It is home to more boots and hats than you can imagine.  In 2008, Lucy got a pair of boots there that were so beautiful and amazing here that we still mourn the fact that her feet got bigger.

But she found another pair!  To top it off, we were able to have another meal that can't be beat at the TCH.  (Note:  see that woman in the background?  She is the dosa maker!  We bow at her feet!)  Stuffed to the gills with iddly, vada and dosa, we hit the road and headed still further west.  

I think West Texas should have this as a slogan:  West Texas - Flatter than Saskatchewan.  It is sure to bring in the visitors!

Also, they have snakes.

Deeper

Asheville from the balcony of our hotel.

The good times kept on rolling in Asheville.  It is a place filled with used book stores, yarn shops and organic produce.  At the first bookstore we went into, this was the first book I saw:

I didn't buy it.

The interior of The Grove, an upscale indoor mall type of thing in a former office building.  It was surprisingly lovely.  We hung out in a shop that sold fossils and crystals.  Asheville has a lot of stores that sell crystals.

Our next stop was Meridian, Mississippi.  We stayed in this pink house, which was about five times larger than most of the houses around it.  Finn and Lucy were somewhat embarrassed to be seen entering the building.  

All I knew about Meridian was that it is halfway between Asheville and Dallas and as the home of Oil Can Boyd.  The woman who ran the B&B seemed slightly insulted when I mentioned that this was the fact that came to mind about Meridian.  In actuality, it turned out to be a kind of funky place with an active downtown (a rarity!).  

A cemetery in Meridian.

A cow statue on a trailer, also in Meridian.  I don't know about you, but I would like to ride inside that cow and wave to passers-by.  

Mississippi never disappoints.  It remains my most favourite Southern state.

Asheville = Good

We bid our dear kitties good-bye and hit the road.  Note to would-be burglars:  Our house is filled with more people than usual so you will be disappointed.

Our first real stop is Asheville, NC.  Everyone who I told that we would be stopping there said that I would love Asheville.  Normally, when that happens I automatically think that I will, therefore, hate it.  I knew why people said it.  They said it because Asheville has a high hippie quotient and, it is, as Finnian said, like a smaller Portland, Oregon.  (Like a good teenager, he said that with a bit of a sneer in his voice).

Dang it, but I do love Asheville!  Sometimes it is hard to be someplace where I see all my favorite things out on parade - it reminds me that I am such a cliche.  But then again, how can I really hate a place like that?  As I walked home from my morning yoga class, the answer was definitely no, I can not.  

Plus, we met up with my friend, the artist, Patrick Glover.  He lives in Charlotte, NC, but is desperately trying to save money to move to Asheville, where there is more of a community for him.  It was great to hang out and have some supper...

...at the Mellow Mushroom.  Hippie pizza - gotta love it!

For Uncle David - Hoagies?  Really?  We also have seen many signs for "subs".  No sign of grinders anywhere.  Just FYI.

Yes.  Asheville = good.  We will wander about more today and enjoy a potluck lunch over at Phil Mechanic Studios, a most groovy place that is doing what so many of us dream of doing - creating a space for artists of all kinds that is welcoming and affordable and fun.  And they process and sell biodiesel fuel.  

Yes, Asheville = good.

Our Home and Native Land, sort of

Oh dear God, not another cat picture...

This missive comes from high atop Mt. Webster.  

Here is what I have learned lately:

• The men at the service desk at Queensboro Toyota love Canadians.  Having spent the past two Fridays there, I have noticed a trend.  The first time, the guy told me Canadians are smarter than Americans because they figured out how to have decent health care "like Europe".  I was impressed to be having a conversation about single-payer health care with the service desk guy at Toyota.  The second time (and different guy), I learned that he loved Canadians "because they are very relaxed".  He also said he wanted to go to Toronto one day.  I said, "You live in New York!  Why do you need to go to Toronto?"  (sorry, Toronto) He said, "I've heard it's nice there.  Plus, New York isn't all it's cracked up to be."  You heard it here first.  My fellow Canadians, should you ever feel unloved and unwanted, head over to Queensboro Toyota on Northern Boulevard and 62nd Street in Woodside.  A warm welcome awaits.
• We have a Canadian car, which is how these conversations got started.  
• In case you were wondering.

I think that is all the bullet points I can conjure up today.  I may not have learned much but I am damn proud to be (semi)Canadian.

Shocked and Stunned and Stunning

What's this?  Some new yarns for my etsy shop? (Link on the left hand side over there.)  Well knock me over with a feather.

A red hot one just right for Valentine's Day.

Merino and corriedale, 124 yds

And a sunny one just right for this non-winter we are having here in NYC.  This one includes some groovy strips of raw silk spun into the wool.

Merino, tussah silk, raw silk fabric, 130 yds.

A Turkey in Every Pot

It seems Mitt has finally admitted that he doesn't care about poor people.  It is possibly the only honest thing that has come out of his mouth this whole campaign.  Reading a bit of transcript from the morning talk show on which he made this bold statement manages to be stunning in an age when it is pretty darn difficult to be stunned by the shite that comes of out the mouths of politicians.  The link above offers you a chance to watch the video clip - if you have the stomach for it.

I much prefer this video:

Bid High

Breathe, 2012.  Crochet cotton, gesso, masonite, 23 x 13 cm.

One should not forget to breathe.  This is very important when giving birth to another human being, when doing drop backs and, in general, as an ordinary, daily thing.  Please try to do it for as long as you can.  I also highly recommend just noticing your breathe every now and then.  It is there for you, so give it a little attention.  You might be glad you did.

In case you need a reminder to breathe, you can bid on this artwork as part of The Sweetest Little Thing fundraiser for Struts Artist-run Centre in Sackville, New Brunswick.  Struts is a lively place filled with art-making and artist-supporting.  They hosted the conference, A Handmade Assembly, last year (where I was invited to participate on a panel and give a talk, so it must have been good).  I will be going back this fall for some good workshop fun....but only if they get lots of funding.  Which they need.  And deserve.

Breathe is not up on their website yet, so you can not actually bid on it today.  But soon!  At the moment, however, you can bid on a piece by Barb Hunt.   Really, you can't lose.

Happy bidding!

Art, Art, I want you.

Recently, I was reading an article in the New York Times about photographer Zoe Strauss, who is having an exhibition at the Philadelphia Museum of Art.  There are all sorts of things one could say about her work, which I think is provocative in a good way and pushing some boundaries that I, personally, enjoy seeing pushed.  But one thing in the the Times article really stopped me in my tracks.  The author made mention of the fact that she keeps a blog about her working process and labelled that activity as "an amateur tic".  To give some context, the author was noting that Strauss herself does not avoid the label "amateur", indeed sometimes embraces it.

I know other artists - famous and not-so famous - who keep blogs but I have to say that they mostly all keep strictly to posting about their work and/or ideas that relate directly to their work.  It isn't so hard to then make a leap and ask myself what, exactly, I am doing with this space.

This isn't a knitting blog.  It isn't a spinning blog.  It isn't a yoga blog (although that has been hard to tell lately).  It isn't a Buddhist blog.  It isn't a homeschooling blog.

It is my art blog.  Welcome to it.

What are we fighting for?

This morning, in mysore practice, when one of my teachers was giving me an adjustment and she said, "if the practice were fighting, you would be a professional."

Another teacher, this one of the Zen persuasion, recently said to me (after I had finally "figured something out" with the something being something that he had been telling me for years over and over but I had only just got it as if he had never before bothered to mention it), "Well, sometimes when a student is done arguing...."

Wait.  What?

There seems to be a theme developing here.  But I am not an argumentative person.  I hate fighting.  And I actively seek out the goals of these practices.  So what I am fighting for?

There's a good question.

Meanwhile, today I had two new asana added to my mysore practice as well as the dreaded drop backs.  You can be sure I fought my way mightily through them.

Here is Kino MacGregor giving some good instruction on dropping back and standing back up.  Let's just say, I am not quite there yet.

Tough but Fair

Scene:  The interior of an Earth-friendly hybrid car heading onto the BQE.  A minivan, seen ahead on the road, behaves erratically and nearly causes a dangerous situation.

F:  What do you expect.  They are driving a minivan.

R:  Driving a minivan makes you drive poorly?

F:  They are already dead.  They have nothing left to lose.

R:  Huh?

F:  Get married.  Have kids.  Be boring.  Get a minivan.  They are already dead.

R:  I was married.  I have kids.  Am I boring?

L: (from backseat)  Yes!  Duh.

R:  Well, you are my kids.  One could say that you are the cause of me being boring.

L:  You were just making the best of a bad situation.

Look Homeward Angel

Chance--the hinge of the world, and a grain of dust; the stone that starts an avalanche, the pebble whose concentric circles widen across the seas.

Thomas Wolfe, Look Homeward Angel

This spinning wheel belongs to my wonderful friend Martie in Taos, New Mexico.  We will be visiting her very soon and she wondered if I might carry this wheel away with me.  You see, this beautiful antique wheel was made in Canada - the east coast of Canada - and Martie hopes to return it there.  It functions perfectly but Martie has never really used it so she is hoping to find it a new home, or rather, send it back to its original home.

Alas, as I drive an Earth-friendly hybrid car, I can not fit this wheel in my vehicle.  But Martie is willing to ship!  If you live on the east coast of North America (I think borders, in this instance, are not that important) and are interested in learning more about the wheel and possible ownership of it, please email Martie at taossunflower (at) gmail (dot) com.  Just replace the you-know-whats with you-know-whats.

'Tis a beauty.  It needs your love.

One Thing Leads to Another

A friend sent me a link to an early Jim Henson short film - before he created the Muppets.  You can see it here. I am sure I am not the first to describe Henson as a man ahead of his time.

In the way of the internets, one thing led to another and I found this excerpt from another of his early films.



Love it!

The Avenue of Trees

Shared here with deep gratitude to all those who contributed to this project.  Thank you!  And I hope you like it.....

ETA:  Did I leave off your name at the end?  Please let me know and I will correct it.

Public Art and Community Engagement

On Monday evening, I will be participating in a panel discussion hosted by the New England Foundation for the Arts about public art and strategies for community engagement.  Among the people presenting, I will be there with Michele Cohen, who was the curator at the Trustman Gallery at Simmons College when I did my project, Unconditional Yes, there.  Click here for all the details.

The panel starts at 5:30 p.m. at the Hibernian Hall in Roxbury.  There will be some time for refreshments and informal talk, as well as question and answer time during the panel.  Please stop by and say hello!

Teaser

What does my work and contemporary burlesque have in common?

I am asking myself that same question.  But who cares really!  Why does everything have to "make sense" all the time anyway?

If you share my laissez faire attitude about art, then come on over to Brooklyn this Sunday and check out The Holdouts, an exhibition curated by Brett Rollins and featuring work by six artists.

Yes, there will be burlesque.

There also will be crocheted and knit squares.  Hundreds of them.

The Corridor Gallery, 334 Grand Avenue, Brooklyn, NY.  Reception from 4 − 6 p.m.

Studio Visit

One of my goals for the new year is to spend more time working in my studio.  When I had younger children, it was impossible to get to the studio to work so I sublet it for years and years.  Finally, when it seemed more possible, I took back the space.  But my work had evolved to suit my life with young children.  It had become so collaborative and so well-suited to being worked on while sitting on the living room couch.  Did I even need a studio anymore?  Why was I paying rent on a space that I hardly ever used?

These questions continue to come up, even as more time becomes available to me as Finnian and Lucy gain independence in their daily activities.  Yet, I have kept the studio, now with a studio mate (who I love, btw) to help pay the rent.  There is always something about having a space where I can be alone and shut the door.  Virginia Woolf was right - a room of one's own, even if you share it with another artist sometimes, is essential to an artist.  For me, going back into my studio also is to become reacquainted with older work that was more studio-based i.e. more suited to hanging on a white wall than on a tree on a highway in Korea.  These works are more intimate and personal in nature and recall, for me, very specific times in my history.

For example,

Obviously I didn't have children when I started this one!  But then they must have come along shortly thereafter because it was never finished.

Yes, I was making a beaded pair of lumberjack underwear, why do you ask?

Maybe I do need to finish that one.  

On Friday, however, I was there to prep some things for a visit from a curator putting together a show at a space in Brooklyn.  I managed to get two boxes of squares into the studio with assistance from Finnian, who was delighted to help as you can imagine.

The squares are very, very dirty.  Here is the very first one I made last summer in Newfoundland:

It used to be pink.

The plan for the show is to stack them, like the photo above, around the perimeter of the gallery with an aim to get all 700 in the space.  I think it is possible.  Note to self:  bring some soap.

Kukku for Kukkutasana

It is the middle of January and I know the thing top-most on your mind is how my kukkutasana is coming along.  Two weeks into the new year and I am happy to report that one of my teachers gave me a golden piece of advice.  So golden that I thought it worth boring you with yet another yoga post in the hope that someone reading this also finds this asana to be a challenge and could benefit from this nugget of wisdom.

It is thus:  after garbha pindasana - after rocking around in a circle - let your arms come out of their position between your legs in padmasana a little.  For garbha pindasana, arms should be tucked through to above the elbows.  Now pull them out to below the elbows.

After only one week of trying this, I was able to get up and stay for five breaths.  Amazing!

But looking at this photo of none other than BKS "Light on Yoga" Iyengar himself, I see that he is below his elbows too.  

I feel even more brilliant today!

PS.  Today also is my most brilliant son's birthday (although I don't think he can do kukkutasana).  Out of respect for his privacy I will only make this mention of it.  Happy birthday Finnian!

Two Films

First, a short film about John Daido Loori Roshi by Rachel Loori Romero.  I can't embed it here so please click this link to view it on youtube.  Lots of beautiful images about a remarkable man.

Second, I had the enormous pleasure of seeing this film yesterday evening.  I can't recommend it highly enough.