Sunday, January 10, 2010

Drawing Class Resumes


Me and E in 2005. We lunched this weekend after TOO long of an absence. She'll be 16 next month.

Art class has resumed. I missed most of today's first class because a house came up that we had to scoot and see. We said no to the house, but I decided to show up to class even even though I was 1.5 hours late. Taking this class means a big chunk of my weekend is scheduled, which horrifies me. Altogether it's four hours of my precious weekend. How will I fit it in friends, cooking, hikes, exercise, downtime and my new romance with my husband?

To help, I bought a very expensive smart rice cooker and a second crock pot. I don't think I've eaten brown rice since I started my job. So now it's time for brown rice, and yes, I've gone mad with the slow cooker.

My dear teacher sprang it on us that we have to pay him an additional model's fee for the class. $100. He explained that part of the cost is getting better models from San Francisco, which made me laugh out loud. Isn't a nude, a nude, a nude? Apparently not. Some regulars shouted out "suburbia." Edward added, "too square." He told us about driving to San Francisco this morning and picking the red headed woman standing before us in "her birthday suit" (as my grandfather would say) at the Ferry building in San Francisco and driving down the Peninsula with her in tow. Then he announced that he had to end the class 30 minutes early because his car doesn't have any headlights. "Edward has transportation issues," another regular called out. I've seen his car, and it's a wonder he's as reliable as he is. His car makes my beater car with 138K miles on it look like a prize.

The man tickles me and I'm glad to be back in his presence.

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

We Need Not

Illustration by Maira Kalman

By generous, happy accident I was reintroduced to Maira Kalman. If you don't know her, really, you must.

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Chocolate Chicken Chili Soup


Photo from Elly Says Opa!

I cooked only once this week. So sad. And then I forgot to take a picture.

A few friends from yesteryear came over for a reunion, midweek dinner of sorts. After throwing the inedible Pumpkin Prosciutto Soup down the drain from the week before, I was nervous about trying out a new recipe on guests.

Nothing to worry about. It was such a hit, there was nothing leftover for lunch.

Some ingredients:Boneless chicken, onion, garlic, cumin seeds ground, cinnamon, chili powder, dark semisweet chocolate, can of northern beans, cilantro.

Another winner from Art of the Slow Cooker

Saturday, December 19, 2009

Dreaming


This photo from Syko lets me dream a little.

The dream is I have my same life AND the time to do stuff like this with my perfectly organized, gorgeous still life of supplies at the ready. Ha, ha, ha.

Speaking of which, it looks like Xmas will be a bust this year. Note to self: Make Xmas gifts for 2010 during Xmas 2009 holiday break.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Glasses


French eyewear collection from Face a Face

It started six weeks ago when I woke up--on my birthday of all days--and couldn't see the numbers on the digital clock. Happy Birthday to me!

A few weeks ago, I tried on a friend's Betsy Johnson glasses, looked down at the words on the page and found them magically magnified.

This morning, it's official: I could barely read one article in NY Times without straining. I'm told by the husband that when it happens, it happens fast.

Dear Santa, Could you please send the green-framed Face-a-Face glasses with the tortoise shell eye-to-ear stems?

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Oh My! Julie Powell, Skanky, Girl.


Photo by Carlo Allegri

In case, you haven't seen this yet:

>>
A Q&A with Julie Powell
By Jackie Burrell
Contra Costa Times

Posted: 12/09/2009 12:00:00 AM PST

One thing seems fairly clear: Amy Adams, who played the food blogger in last summer's breakout hit, "Julie & Julia," probably won't be donning a butcher's apron for Julie Powell's newest memoir.

Nor will anyone who devoured every last morsel of naive, witty adorability in Powell's first book that recounts the year she spent cooking all 524 recipes from Julia Child's "Mastering the Art of French Cooking," willi find the new book to be the polar opposite.

"Cleaving: A Story of Marriage, Meat and Obsession" is a tale of tortured wedlock, jaw-dropping adultery, unbelievable wine consumption, and more meat than you could ever imagine. Yes, there are recipes, but after reading about the metallic fragrance of freshly butchered, "custardy-smooth," burgundy-tinged livers, you may find yourself in the mood for a nice bowl of soy products.

But flying cartilage and sinew aside, the most brutal parts of the book outline Powell's two-year affair with D — an old flame from her college days with whom she cheated once before on her then-boyfriend Eric Powell. Fast forward to 2004 and "Julie & Julia" is soaring up the bestseller lists when D comes around again. What ensues is an affair that verges on obsession, even cruelty, including sexting and wee hours makeout sessions in her apartment, while Powell's husband, Eric, sleeps in the next room. That Eric quickly discovers the infidelity and has an affair of his own does not make any of it

Yet we're helpless to resist. We keep turning the pages and when Powell, who has made a career of baring her soul, offers to chat, we grab the phone.

Q: So what happened? You worried that people thought you were too adorable last time around?

A: People are reacting in all kinds of ways, very strongly. People who were invested in Eric's and my relationship in "Julie & Julia" — and then the movie was a sweetened version of that — it's unnerving. A lot of people saw the relationship as this paragon. It's not that it was a lie, but I wrote it at this period where I was very naive and I thought marriage was a pretty little box with a bow. Marriage is incredibly difficult and the people in it change. I wanted to honor that. Both of us — primarily me — have made some really terrible choices.

Q: Eric and Damian know they're in the book, right? With... everything?

A: Eric and I are together now. He's not tripping through the roses (about the book), but we talked a long time about this, did counseling. I could never have published it without his blessing. I've exposed our life in a way that's not comfortable for both of us, but he's been extraordinarily supportive. D had to sign off on it. He read the manuscript. I don't know that I'd say he's on board. I haven't spoken to him in a great while.

Q: So in the midst of this crisis, you decided to do ... a butchering apprenticeship?

A: I've been fascinated by butchers for a really long time. I grew up in Texas, where all the meat I bought was from a supermarket, wrapped in cellophane. I discovered these old world New York butcher shops and these guys who had been doing this work for decades. They'd learned from their fathers. I was envious of that innate skill. One facet of my personality is, when I'm in crisis, I seek a project. I needed a haven of sorts, and this idea of spending all this time in a shop with guys who didn't know me or anything about me, it felt like an escape.

Q: But big macho butchers? Flying meat?

A: There's this stereotype of butchers. They're big macho guys, no question, but what I found was how delicate the work is, how meditative — 85 percent of butchery you can do with the tip end of a boning knife. There's a sort of road map with everything, how muscles are supposed to come apart, that tiny crevice between the cup and ball of the joint. There's this rote aspect and yet you still have to concentrate your mind and body on what you're doing. It became this way to work through this crisis.

Q: OK, so you leave your butcher apprenticeship and instead of going home to Eric, you head off on a Grand Meat Tour of Argentina, Tanzania ... and the Ukraine??

A: It was a little random, I'll grant you. Argentina makes sense — it's a great meat culture, also a good first country to visit alone. I'd always wanted to visit the Carpathian Mountains. Tanzania? The people who live there, the Masai, their entire identity as a culture revolves around the animals they raise. And the bleeding of the cow —

(A pause, while we reread the description of Masai tribesmen piercing a cow's jugular vein so everyone can drink.)

— It's so primal and so central to their tribe. It's the sole reason I went.

Q: Does Amy Adams have any idea what's in store for her?

A: I have this little fantasy. In this alternative reality, Amy Adams is going to be forced to play Julie Powell in all her guises. I don't think we're going to see a Nora Ephron movie of this one. I haven't even sent (the book) to Nora Ephron. I'm terrified she'll explode.
>>

Saturday, December 5, 2009

Art at a Pediatrician's Office


Last week the happiest moment of my work day was a visit to the most beautiful doctor's office I've ever seen. Art everywhere. Fun art. The art of Sheldon Greenberg.

Not only was the art gorgeous, but wow, the doctor I was interviewing for my job, the fabulous Dr. Raquel Burgos , had style, energy, and warmth to outdo even the fab interior. Dr. Burgos told me that Sheldon's son got hit with a baseball and he did this painting of him. It's a big ole gorgeous piece (maybe 9ft x 5 ft).

More Sheldon art at this concierge doctor practice:





Pass me the paint brushes, please. And some bubble wrap too.

Friday, December 4, 2009

Onion Glasses: They Work!


Okay, I admit it. This is about more than about the glasses. I love this girl. Look at her!

Here she is at Thanksgiving cutting onions with the pink onion goggles that Jeff got me for my birthday. He thought they were hilarious. I thought they were cute, but totally non functional.

WRONG.

I may never mince a clove of garlic or chop an onion without them again.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Slow Cook: Curried Coconut Chicken Soup


Art of the Slow Cooker, Recipe #3. Fantastic.

I made it after dinner last night, cooked it during the night via the lamp timer, finished in the morning in time to cool and put it in the fridge before work and reheat for dinner tonight.

Mmmmm. I have a similar recipe that I make on the stove. I make lots of soups, but this is better than stove-top soup. The flavors have time to meld and deepen. And it's much less effort. Go figure.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Soul Food for Survival



Photo: Delish

Life is all but slow these days. You know, that darn job. The one I wanted so much. The one taking over my life.

I read a couple blog posts last night, looked at Jen's little books and wondered "how do people do it? how am I going to get creative time to survive?"

Standing under a hot shower last night, an answer came.

Chop, chop. Brown, brown. Roast, roast.

Earlier that day between sips of my morning coffee, I chopped and roasted veggies for a vegetable soup. After deciphering the instructions on my lamp timer, I set the slow cooker for four hours. Even though I had to resist lying down for a cap nap by the time I was ready to get out the door, it was worth it. I had energy at work, I made it to QiGong class, and the soup was delicious.

Mmmm. Depth and flavor.

Art of the Slow Cooker is my guide these days: a new book, a birthday book.

It may save me.

Monday, November 23, 2009

My Picks from Caldwell Snyder Gallery in St. Helena




Artists unknown. This gallery features artists from around the world. I might have to visit their San Francisco gallery soon.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

More Art from Cindy's


Spotted in the bathroom at Cindy's Backstreet Kitchen.

What kind of guesses do you have about how this was done? It looks like paper painted and then another layer of paper and paint on that layer. Type of paper? Process?

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Elizabeth McKinney at Cindy's: Happy Days



One of the highlights of my weekend in Napa Valley with the cousins was a meal at Cindy's Backstreet Kitchen in St. Helena. The menu looks simple enough, but Cindy Pawlcyn, best known for her Napa restaurant, Mustards Grill, breaks all the rules with nearly every dish she makes.

"Forget everything you've known about tamales," our waitress told us when we asked about this dish on the menu. She was right. [Big sigh] The meal was as refreshing and soul satifying as our day at Indian Springs spa.

And what is a good meal without fabulous art. Here's one artist work I fell in love with at Cindy's. I can't find anything about her on the web, but the staff told me he name is Elizabeth McKinney.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Fall Splendor in Napa Valley / Calistoga





Napa Valley / Calistoga was a feast for the eyes and a salve for the soul this weekend. I've NEVER seen it more beautiful.

Photos by cousin Jodee

Saturday, November 7, 2009

First Nude Model: Longing to See


Photo by Eliot Elisofon

I walked in the room late, and the nude woman moving on the platform made eye contact with me and flashed a warm, welcoming smile. I sat down and started to watch her as my teacher talked. We didn't draw for a long time. We just listened and watched.

It took a long time before I could see her. At first I could only see the image of her and process my own feelings about seeing her--my first experience with a nude model in an art class. She was no regular looking person; her body was startling perfect in every way, and she had a Brazilian wax. For a long time I tortured myself repeating, "Is this how people are supposed to look?"

She carried herself with the ease of biting into an apple as she bent over unclothed in a room of strangers. Yet she was shy about stomping her foot the right way in a pair of her sister's slightly too big boots for the first drawing/stomping exercise. She giggled and teetered and looked at us for support and approval like a self-conscious beginning art student making her first drawing or mark on the page.

Watching my instructor with her was a lot like my first experience at a nude beach in France with my college French teacher and his group of friends. Zero sexuality. Total comfort with the body. Ease with all kinds of body types. Of course, that's the French I'm speaking of, not me.

By the end of the night I knew her body better than my own and the only other body I get to look at in the nude on a regular basis--my husband's. I fear it's taken all these years and an art class to understand what I'm missing in front of my eyes everyday.

Friday, October 23, 2009

Motherwell-esque: "The Subject of All Art is Feeling"


Last night we started our fourth drawing class watching a Robert Motherwell video (yes, a video, not DVD) called Storming the Citadel (no YouTube clip to be found). Wonderful!


Only slightly familiar with Motherwell, this is is what I know of his work. Black as a color.



Last night I learned about the range of his work. He didn't get stuck in a style.

Back in the day when I sat in art history classes soaking up the lectures, I never imagined making my own art. Now I'm studying with a Motherwell-esque teacher who uses art history lessons of abstract expressionists as a jumping off point to make make our own work.

A recurring theme: "The subject of all art is feeling."

Last night's lesson: We started out with a pine cone, the backside of blueprints, and big charcoal. After drawing the feeling of the pine cone for 5-10 minutes (with music), we rotated to another person's "drawing" and drew on it to add to it and make it our own. We made two passes to each person's drawing. In the second round we added white charcoal; in the third, pastels. As we worked, he told us he was teaching us how to build a drawing/painting and how to layer. Ahh, I got it.

This week I'm building a vacation week before the start of my new job on Tuesday. My plans for a getaway have not gone as planned. But this morning I realized that I'm having the perfect organic vacation. It's unfolding. I'm building it layer by layer. And now I'm off to rotate to the next drawing.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Collage Inspiration: Paperwerks


Paperwerks, Abstract Collage I


Paperwerks, Scan 10001

Loving the simplicity and color balance. It works!

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Does It Work?

Where to start after not posting for so long? I'm shifting gears to start a new job at the end of the month and in power mode. I've started to get serious about limiting my online time to do more of the things I want to do, and it's working. But I miss blogging, and I haven't read Design Sponge in weeks. That's a sign.

Let me catch you up on art class, which continues to be wonderful. "Does it work?" was the big take away of the second class. He showed us parts of a Rauschenberg video. Watch the bit below to hear Rauschenberg on "Does it Work?" with his famous goat.



The in-class assignment: self portrait collage using only art magazines. In case you've forgotten, this is a beginning drawing class. The best thing about the class is this guy has the ability to transport me. He plays interesting music, he tells seemingly meandering but relevant stories, he reads aloud, he challenges our ways of being and thinking.

The end result of my piece was okay, but not great. My answer to "Does it Work?" was "No."

Later that night after class, I couldn't sleep, so I got up and started over. I spent a lot of time editing--a good move. But then it seemed like I was overworking it. Too controlled. Still not working. So I randomly messed up the pieces on page and watched where they would land. I did it a few times until I felt that inner sense of, "Yes, it works."

It was the first time I felt a piece was finished and knew when to stop.

And then it was time to sleep.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Shades of Green


Sandy Ostrau, oil on canvas, Shades of Green

My knitting group hasn't met for a long time. I miss it. We're all off doing different things these days and still knitting.

Sandy has been painting and showing her work for some time now. I have one of her paintings, but I'm really thrilled for her she has a show in a gallery in San Francisco for the first time. I love how her work has become more and more abstract. Yummy colors.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Taking Notes

The house hunt continues. The summer flow of listings has dwindled, and we have a new strategy. Jeff does the online hunt. I do the drive by. I've learned to do less hemming and hawing. It feels like dating in my 30s. No. No. No. No. No.


This would be the kind of house, although a lot smaller, that I'd feel uncertain about. "Does it have potential?" "Should I go on a second date?"


New windows, siding, and a simple balcony and porch: a major transformation.

From Design Sponge