RICH INNER LIFE

Stop Making Sense

2009-11-11T05:39:00.009-05:00

It's not easy being green.

I ran into an old client on the street the other day and we did a quick catch up conversation. He told me he had just gotten back from South Africa.

"Wow! How was it?"

"Weird. Despite the end of apartheid there is still this thing hanging over the country."

I told him about another friend who had gone to South Africa recently who had a similar observation- official discrimination has ended but the different races do not mingle on a social level.

He ended with "We are so lucky in this country. We just take it for granted."

I know that things are not peaches and cream in this country as far as discrimination goes, but there is a broad acceptance of different people- or at least an abhorrence of crude and ignorant displays of intolerance. There is also room for conversation about acceptance/inclusion. I watch from the sidelines, bemused, as gay people fight for the right to marry. (This "right" isn't as desirable as one might think- I am not a huge fan of this legal institution.) This is a conversation that never would have taken place 20 years ago. I think of my clients who openly refer to their partners. The shame and stigma of this acknowledgement seems to have vanished. I was also pleasantly pleased by the near seamless mixing of Hispanics and Anglos in New Mexico during a recent visit. When I lived there 20 years ago the resentments were palpable between the two races.

There are still many instances of discrimination, hatred and even violence against those who are different. I think, as a country, we don't recognize how things have changed over time. We have every right to be proud of our continued struggle towards universal rights.

Bash on!

Polenta.....Pudding?

2009-11-09T17:51:00.008-05:00

I use to be an okay cook but my skills have deteriorated over the years. First I was married to a man who thought that Chef Salad was the height of cuisine and now I live with a man who cooks far better than I have ever dreamed of. I still enjoy cooking... I am just no damned good at it. So while my boyfriend is away for a few weeks to explore our vast country I have taken to blaspheming his kitchen.

I am celiac, thus cannot eat wheat/gluten. Pasta is right out. I have been wanting to try Polenta Lasagna for a while as a way to get my cheesy goodness spot satisfied. I had all the ingredients I thought appropriate but was too cavalier to look up a recipe. Really how hard could it be? Polenta, sauce, fresh mozzarella, pesto-right? I layered, baked and awaited my righteous reward.

I suppose there are cookbooks for a reason, like say, to tell you that a bunch of moist ingredients will blend into a monolithic pan of ingredient. It didn't taste too bad but there is something about the word "lasagna" that evokes distinct layers of different textured items. This had turned into a loaf of very cheesy, slightly tomatoey polenta. In and of itself- not terrible.

I had it for dinner two nights in a row and then had it for lunch today (the downside of cooking big complicated dishes is eating them for several days.) I mulled about what had gone awry. I realized it wasn't the food, it was my attitude. If I stopped thinking of it as lasagna it became more palatable. When I thought of it as a lovely, cheesy side dish I loved it a little bit more. But what would I call it- polenta pudding?

I am guessing there is a larger life lesson here.

Unsettled

2009-11-05T05:14:00.007-05:00

I took this photo last fall on Route 103 in the middle of nowhere. It is one of those visual non-sequitors that I love. Santa in Autumn?

I have been feeling unsettled as of late and I can't quite put my finger on it. But I do recognize the symptoms as they have cropped up for me periodically in my life. I keep buying stuff as if I am trying to fill a hole. I am aware of it but I still allow myself to do it because it tends to run its course after a certain dollar amount..... and when I realize it doesn't solve any problems.

But in the meantime...... my wardrobe has gotten a serious updating!

Beautiful Fall

2009-10-18T12:50:00.004-04:00

Today is one of those under appreciated fall days. The kind that everyone gives short shrift to. It was grey and dreary- not even a breeze to portend the rain & snow heading our way this afternoon. The leaves have turned russet after their gaudy fall display. Everyone seems to have retreated inside. I love the damp coolness...... Welcome winter!

Killer Dog

2009-10-16T06:08:00.005-04:00

I chose to park in a slightly different place that morning, thus changing my walk into work routine ever so slightly. Some construction has filled up the small side street where my business is located so I was a little distracted by the internal cursing in my head. "Why don't they ever think about the businesses they are disrupting? Would it kill them to not park all three major pieces of heavy equipment right in front of my entrance? If all 4 city workers choose to eat lunch on my stoop again complete with folding chairs and coolers spread out I am going to have to say something."

I barely noticed the small tug at the end of the leash tethering my precious little pooch Henry, but I did notice the shark like snap and cloud of feathers around him. Crunch, crunch. He was rolling the still peeping body of a sparrow around in his mouth trying to get a little traction to swallow the mouthful of bird. I don't know what I was thinking but I wrestled the bird from his mouth and left it on the sidewalk. Did I really think it would make it after such a mauling?

I know it is the way of the world... not so much eat or be eaten, but eat AND be eaten. There is many an animal in the woods who would make a quick snack of Henry or even me. But to be present at the dispatching is a little troubling. Was it cruel? No, it was swift and sure. It was also all instinct on his part. Food presented itself and he partook. I ,too, am a meat eater and understand that it means one less sentient creature in order to stoke my body. It is just one of those thoughts that rolls around and around in my head, not making sense.

And then I had chicken for dinner.

I Need Some Of This

2009-10-10T04:45:00.009-04:00

A couple of weeks ago I planned to meet my friend Annie for a girl's night in. I went to Manchester early to catch a show at the Currier Museum, then wasted an hour walking my dog around the old neighborhood before meeting Annie. I love the old homes and density of Manchester. I ended up at Wagner Park, which most people call Pretty Park. It is pretty- very formal and peaceful with an array of evergreens, paths and lovely iron benches.

My insides have been a swirl lately so Henry & I decided to finish up with a little meditation and sat on a bench. And right on the bench was this stone which reads "Peace is in You." It made me so happy. Someone left it there and I found it! And I could use a little of what it was espousing. I practically giggled.

I went to the other benches to see if there were more stones..... and there were! I picked up three more and put them in my pocket. Then I sat down to contemplate my bounty. "You are a pig for keeping this wealth all to yourself," I thought. I reluctantly placed the stones back on the benches where I found them, keeping only my red stone. "But you really like them and they mean something to you," I thought again. Sigh, how could I keep them and share the bounty? I went and picked up one more to give to my friend Annie and left the others for someone else.

I hope someone who needed to find those stones found theirs. I hope it was as meaningful to them as it was to me. Even if it wasn't meaningful, maybe it will bring them meaning some day.

Martha Graham

2009-10-04T05:10:00.009-04:00

Henry performing a very Martha Graham-esque spin & swirl.

We went to see the Martha Graham Dance Company this past Thursday at the Dana Center at St Anselm College. It was a very educational experience. Normally that phrase has all sorts of negative connotations- as if you were being force fed information. In this instance education and dance worked well together.

The Artistic Director, Janet Eilber, spoke between each dance, which was also interspersed with historic films of Martha Graham herself dancing. Her first dance was in 1926. Graham was the originator of expressive modern dance, as we know it today. She used fabric and hair to accentuate the movements of the body and was not afraid of using awkward movements to convey an emotion. Graham was an American original and huge part of our cultural heritage. For these reasons it becomes important to "learn" about her. I enjoyed it thoroughly.

The dancers were good- performing historic pieces. Some of the dances felt dated- a little too melodramatic for modern sensibilities. Others felt fresh and as pertinent as any modern dance out there.

I suppose the biggest shocker for me was that Copland's Appalachian Spring was commissioned by Graham to create a wholly American dance. Having studied music as a young girl this tidbit of information was divorced from my performing it with a band. Graham also used Isamu Noguchi to design the sets for Appalachian Spring... and here I thought he was just a faboo furniture designer for Herman Miller and sometime sculptor.

Clearly I still have a lot to learn....

Channeling My Inner Princess

2009-09-30T20:51:00.004-04:00

I visited a friend last week and she asked the simple question- "Don't you ever do something without worrying what someone else will think?" I honestly answered "no." Bad answer.

Somehow the question rolled the conversation around to what you wear. Why can't we just be like little girls and wear the things that make us the happiest. We discussed throwing a party with the theme of "Princess" where everyone just puts on their favorite clothes with total disregard for matching, appropriateness and propriety. My role model would definitely be my four year old niece featured in the gallery of photos to the left..... she does a pretty mean monkey face.

The next morning I regarded my jewelry selection which included many rhinestone treasures from the boyfriend's vintage collection. I love looking at them but rarely wear them. Throwing caution and conventional taste to the winds I put on two pink rhinestone selections to adorn my periwinkle cashmere sweater.

My 8 AM meeting started with compliments for the jewelry and kept on up through the day. People loved the pin in particular- which is a real knock-out piece! I am thinking I need to put conventional tastes aside and pull out my red shoes and rhinestone jewelry a little more.

Viva La Princess!

Minor Rule of Life

2009-09-30T05:53:00.003-04:00

Henry in his warm weather sleeping position. In the colder months he curls up into a fur muffin.

I have a little rule for myself: never walk past my dog without reaching down to pat him. It is not quite as obsessive as running back to the house to check if I turned off the coffee pot or tapping on a door frame three times before entering, but a rule nevertheless. Sometimes I forget and have to turn around to complete the task.

Why? You might ask........ if I didn't do it I would feel it was an opportunity lost. That could be an opportunity lost to express my affection for my dog or just a more general opportunity to reach out (literally) and change a moment.

Or I suffer from a mild form of ocd.

Cooking with Gas

2009-09-26T20:26:00.000-04:00

Last night I left work a little early to make chile rellenos for my annual Mexican/birthday Fiesta in January. If you are a Capricorn you either embrace the season and throw a sliding party or you search the cuisine of the Southern Hemisphere to find an appropriate way to pretend the weather outside is balmy. As a young girl sliding parties seemed adequate. Now tequila & tamales seems a far better way to go. But, I digress....

We finally had a hard frost a couple of nights ago necessitating the garden purge. All fruits and vegetables were picked and shuttled to our house for safekeeping. This means everything needs to be eaten, frozen, cooked.... or composted. The poblano chile crop tipped the scales at about 1/3 bushel. That's a lot of chiles!

It is also a lot of chile rellenos. I roasted, skinned,and deseeded for about three hours. The on to the actual assembling. I stuffed them with Monterrey jack cheese, dipped them in egg and then dredged them in corn meal.... for a gluten free relleno. I fried. They cooled. Then I wrapped them all between layers of plastic wrap and into the freezer. My party will be in January.... it almost makes you long for winter!

Bon Apetit!

I Had The Time of My Life

2009-09-20T06:37:00.006-04:00

He isn't Patrick Swayze, but....

The other day at work my young colleague announced "I just have to say this. I am so sad that Patrick Swayze died. I just loved him in Dirty Dancing."

Really now. I did some math and then asked her if she was even born when it was made.

"Two years before- in 1985."

How did she know when this movie was made?!?!?

"Oh, I have a copy of it. All of my friends do."

I confessed I had never seen the movie so she generously lent it to me. Last night I watched it. The critics were right. It was a bad movie- hokey plots, bad lines, predictable outcomes. But I can see why the movie has staying power. Patrick Swayze is every girl's dream of the misunderstood, bad boy who really is noble, intuitive, sensitive and don't forget "Oh my God, look at that body!" While the movie was undeniably steamy, there was still a lot of innocence to it. The steamiest scenes were always on the dance floor. The film made me smile- right down to the oft quoted "Nobody puts Baby in a corner" and Swayze's athletic leap off a stage. I don't think a woman in the world would kick him out of bed for eating crackers.

I wonder how I had managed to never see this iconic film. Where was I in 1987? Perhaps I had just moved to Taos, New Mexico and was too hip to partake of the death knell of disco. But my youth is complete now that I have seen Dirty Dancing. And I, too, am sad that Patrick Swayze died.

Back on the No-Wheat Wagon

2009-09-15T03:31:00.005-04:00

"Damn!"

So for a brief couple of months my body was all copacetic with the ingestion of all things gluten. After almost 10 years of intolerance of the stuff I went on a bender. I was eating bagels! And real pasta! Cookies! I suppose if it had tasted better I would have eaten whole bags of flour.

Of course- old habits die hard. I couldn't seem to remember that I could make sandwiches with bread instead of rice cakes. I continued to eat my cheese and crackers without the crackers.

Then things started going a little haywire about a month ago. My lower legs started itching wildly, then my torso. Red dots broke out and I had scratched my legs raw in some areas. My knee and ankle joints hurt to the point where I curtailed my walking. These things could be chalked up to an over active imagination prone to hypochondria. Then the other shoe dropped.... constant diarrhea.

I had a final bagel and called it quits. I was back on the no-wheat wagon. Within two weeks my symptoms have disappeared. With a quick shrug of the shoulders I have accepted my fate. I am going to miss all that good stuff, but worse things in life have happened. I have already been through the experimenting stage to see what makes a good gluten free muffin, how to pack a satisfying lunch and how to find GF snacks in convenience stores for the occasional hunger attack. I'll live.

I suppose I should be thankful for my brief reprieve.

A Quick Look-See

2009-09-07T13:19:00.004-04:00

Nothing too special going on the garden beyond its usual wonderfulness. Although it could be mistaken for Versailles, what with all the weeding, sculpting & primping I have been doing. I am still loving this new sculpture.

My hydrangea didn't bloom very well this year. I experimented by cutting it all back to the ground this past fall. That could be its problem. Or the lack of sunshine coupled with too much rain this summer could be the cause of its non-performance. Not a huge loss (like the Rose Chafer Beetles eating my Peonies), but something to be noted.

This is the best Hosta I own. Its gold color, seer-sucker leaves and sheer size make it a knock out. I wish I knew what variety it was, but many of my Hostas were saved an ignominious death in a formerly well tended garden going quickly to ruin.

I love fall.

Ode to the Garden's Bounty

2009-09-07T13:07:00.005-04:00

It is that time of year when everything is looking mighty tempting in the boyfriend's garden. The tomato plants were really whipped by a blight from all the rain but still managed to produce. They look a bit pathetic with so few leaves but are covered with the most important thing- big, juicy tomatoes!

These are some winter squash that are as big as bowling balls. I LOVE winter squash almost as much as I love my new Helenium!

The fenced off area where we keep the compost operation doubles as a grape arbor. This year the vines have crept right across the top creating a green gate way. It looks in to some old broccoli plants. If I squint my eyes a bit I can pretend I am in a French cottage garden.

Every year the boyfriend worries that the Poblano Peppers will not pull through, but this year looks to be another bumper crop. They are a favorite of mine. Their earthy and slightly piquant flavor makes the best Chile Rellenos.

He grows lots of things just for me- beets are one of them. They are a lot of work to prepare and cook, but they are a childhood food memory for me that makes me smile. These are the size of softballs!

I think I'll go eat!

New Love

2009-09-07T09:33:00.007-04:00

I was consulting with a neighbor/friend, who happens to be one of my gallery artists (whose show is opening this coming Friday- shameless plug!), about extending the garden at our local library. We both love gardening and are quite serious about it. Perhaps one of these days I will do a post on her charming gardens.

After a little poking in the soil to determine that tree roots will keep us from doing several things, she suggested that we do a little field trip to a traffic circle in a neighboring town. Just 200 feet up the road she had an even better suggestion. "There is a tiny little nursery called Robert's Greenhouse in a tiny little town. " The nursery is so tiny that it doesn't even have its own website. So away to Webster, NH we drove.

It had a field full of sheep panting in the September sun to keep my dog occupied and a fine selection of good looking plants. Despite the freeze on my plant buying budget I broke down and bought this Red & Gold Sneezeweed- I prefer the more sophisticated name of Helenium. Its beautiful velvety red flowers made me weak in the knees.

It took me two days to decide where its permanent home would be..... next to my low blue spruce. The rusty red is a perfect foil for the blue green. I am in love. Who knew at this age?

Night Walk

2009-09-04T20:24:00.005-04:00

This time of year is so pretty as the day turns into night. Fog rolls in. The skies are so clear and full of stars. The humidity no longer weighs down every step.

This is the field next to my house looking towards Bald Sunapee, my very still windmill and the moon illuminating my driveway.

Ahhh..... fall!

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

2009-09-04T06:41:00.003-04:00

The boyfriend has been pestering me to customize his old beater pick-up with agricultural plates for quite some time. He uses it to pick up hay, manure, etc.

Looks pretty speedy- aye? Covers up some rust too.

The End Game

2009-08-29T17:44:00.013-04:00

I was going to take another photo because this one is blurry. I probably forgot the flash. Somehow I thought it was apropos.

I went to see my new dentist. Nothing too terribly wrong was discovered. I need to have two old fillings replaced, but no big deal.

My gums are in decent condition too, with no signs of periodontal disease- Phew! They stick a probe in between your gums and teeth and do measurements of the "pockets" all the time muttering numbers to themselves "1,2,1,1,1,1,2,3,2,3,1,1." It sounds like an oceanographer doing a sounding for depths of the Continental Shelf or something.

But there were some recommendations.

Despite the good readings she said that I could reverse the "3's" with more regular flossing. She also noted that I had some self-inflicted gum recession due to overly vigorous and improper back and forth motion with my brush. She highly recommended an electric toothbrush.

My whole life I have avoided any sort of electrical appliance for a task that can just as easily be done manually. The selling of these ridiculous appliances somehow feels both gimicky and like a conspiracy of the electric company to create more demand- can openers, food bag sealers, air freshener dispensers- Jeesh!

On the other hand, I feel like I am reaching the end game. I am not old, but I am not young either. If this electric toothbrush will keep my teeth and gums healthier than I will swallow my pride, stand at my sink every morning with a vibrating stick stuck in my mouth and chalk it up to progress. I need to preserve what I have.

Next stop- eye exam.

Mistakes Are Good!

2009-08-29T17:25:00.008-04:00

This post could be construed as a direct follow up to my previous post.

Two Autumns ago in a fit of ~~laziness~~ experimentation I decided to use the lawn mower to put this large patch of Clara Curtis Mums to bed for the year. The following gardening season I had a rather sparse and unusually uneven display. In my defense, Clara Curtis Mums are famous for their raggedy displays- they grow at uneven heights and bloom in a very patchy pattern.

But this year- behold! The patch is almost uniformly in bloom and at a (relatively) consistent height.

The problem with this method is it only gives you a good display every other year. Or perhaps this patch required the invigorating buzz cut? Perhaps I'll have a lovely display for a few years running?

I feel an experiment coming in.

Failure of Imagination

2009-08-26T20:28:00.008-04:00

I have a friend, maybe even friends, who are dealing with big decisions. It is heart breaking to hear about and watch. The anguish is sometimes too much for me.

Like a lot of women, I want to make it better, but can't. To top it all off I am not a particularly demonstrative person so I am guessing my friends look at me as the rational one. I tend to offer solutions to help people through the maze.... no doubt exposing the two semesters of graduate school when I thought I wanted to be a counselor.

It all makes me think of decisions gone awry in my own life. I think some choices were due to a real failure of imagination. I have made choices I can only regret; paths not taken because I couldn't envision the possible outcome. I have to wonder why I chose things that didn't take advantage of the most I have to offer... and the best that I could be.

My fallback position is the status quo.

Love My Dog

2009-08-22T06:24:00.002-04:00

When my dog is happy his tail doesn't just wag. It goes in circles like a helicopter- like when he is hunting mice or sees me walk down the stairs every morning.

How can you not love that?

Of Art, Fashion and Gardening

2009-08-18T21:29:00.020-04:00

THE BEGINNING OF MY TRAIN OF THOUGHT:

This is a photo of the garden about a mile from my house. The photo was taken about a year and some ago. The gentleman who planted the garden finally made the choice to put himself in assisted living. A middle aged couple bought the house late this spring. Immediately the blasphemy began.

First let me describe what makes this garden so special. Its maker was so restrained in his design focusing on textures, specifically the textures of evergreens: picea, mugo pines, dwarf spruce, golden thujas, juniper. The shades of green- from blue to yellow- were stunning. He then created sparkle by dropping in heaths and heathers. The dainty blossoms of pink & purple were about all the excitement this garden could stand. It was elegance defined- and all by an amateur gardener!

The new owners' blasphemy included digging out a stand of red twigged dogwood, which provided winter interest, to put in a circle of white phlox, Star Gazer Lilies, birdbath & gazing ball. Each of these things on their own, or perhaps in a different setting, would be fine. In this garden of cool contrasts and restrained elegance it felt an awful lot like like bringing a Vegas showgirl to a society cotillion.

A MINOR DIGRESSION:

The other day I had three older women come into my gallery- a private reunion for some Wellesley roommates. Each of them were dressed so superbly. They were each aware of their body types, body limitations and what might come across as too trendy as opposed to stylish. Their accessories were perfect. They has the most beautiful jewelry- not too much! Just the right amount. Even their make up was not noticeable next to the fine shine of their natural assets.

Where do women learn to dress like this? Wellesley?

WHAT'S THIS GOT TO DO WITH ART?:

For years I have pondered the differences are between good art and bad art. Don't expect the answer in this post. Philosophers have been pondering it for millennium. Don't expect a Podunk NH art dealer to answer the big question.

I have noticed that good artists apply their paint (or whatever medium) with confidence. The tentative stroke is for those who haven't spent time, time, time developing a masterful one. Please don't ask me to describe a good stroke. I have had this conversation with many artists I respect who are equally mystified by trying to describe it. We fall back on the old trope of "I know it when I see it."

Along with the confidence in knowing how to apply one's medium comes the confidence to know when to stop. The amateur cannot resist fixing just one more thing. This almost always comes at the expense of the painting. It becomes over worked and muddy, the strokes become labored and wooden, the frustration mounts and it all becomes clear on the canvas. A good painting feels effortless and will sing with a sort of internal vibrancy.

TYING IT ALL TOGETHER:

I aspire to achieve the heights in all of these categories- art, fashion and gardening. I don't think I am shallow but that visual things give me huge pleasure and satisfaction. The world is interpreted through my eyes. I don't think many people see me as particularly fashionable, but I look for clothes that complement me and make me comfortable and feel good. I would like to think I cut a reasonably stylish figure. Some people might think me an art snob and others an art novice. I enjoy it at my level but am not afraid to reach for the next. My gardening is probably my most wooden achievement. Like many amateur artists I get caught up in the details at the expense of the big picture.

As I have stated before refinement come with paring back rather than adding more. Edit!

Edging Redux

2009-08-18T06:06:00.007-04:00

So here are the images of my hard day's labor. I only edged about 1/4 of this garden but it is the most visible and cherished section.

Edging involves taking the edge of the garden out about 6-8" from its current edge and then shaking all of the precious soil out of the sod. Sometimes this requires allowing the sod to bake in the sun to dry out the soil so that it shakes loose more easily. After a day of this my hands cramp up from clawing at the sod to rip it up and banging/shaking it to within an inch of its life. 93 degree weather is perfect for this sort of task- sweating aside.

It is a constant battle as the lawn is always encroaching on the garden, but an extremely satisfying chore- for me. (Some people might think it was work.) It is very clear where the lawn ends and the garden begins. The right curves are also essential- they add to the overall look of the garden. Ultimately mowing will be easier too as I won't have to be so cautious about what I am brushing up against and giving an inadvertent haircut. All the plants are set safely back.

Of course, being on my hands and knees at eye level with all of my foliar friends allows me to see and then pluck every weed that stands in between me and perfect order.

Onward Christian Soldiers! Although I think it is cleanliness that is next to Godliness, not weed-freeliness.

Edging

2009-08-16T19:13:00.001-04:00

Too tired to take a new photo- this is from 2008.

Edged for most of the day. 'Nuff said. Too tired to write.

Editing

2009-08-15T20:48:00.006-04:00

Black-Eyed Susans hiding amidst the yarrow.

It is that time of year when gardens can look their tattiest. The heat is oppressive and (usually) there isn't enough rain to keep things lush. All the plants are tired of kicking up the chlorophyll to keep their leaves a deep, dark green- instead they are a spotty yellow.

Once again- due to a summer of abnormally high rain fall- things are not too bad. The lawn is thick and lovely. The plants are still standing erect. My personal battle- Black-Eyed Susans.

I have always had a problem with pulling a plant in the wrong location that is otherwise healthy and desirable. It seems to have a right to live and blossom. The Black Eyed Susans grow wild. They pop up in my yard and garden. Today was a day of ruthlessly pulling them out. Order was restored and I am happy.

The garden was beginning to have that overall sameness with lack of definition. Everywhere you looked was another sunny yellow flower with a brown eye. Editing is hard but in the end the product is easier to look at and understand.