The clock is ticking down on summer, yet it is still summertime, except in our friendly local shops.
The pre-season has already started (who cares?), but it isn’t actually football season until next week. But in case one can’t wait, there are things to purchase that declares one’s allegiance to local-ish teams.
Halloween is just around the corner, if by corner, one means two months from now. The candy already on display is being guarded by this dragon, protecting it from summertime camping gear.
And still these puny seasons pale before the juggernaut that is the Christmas season. These expensive holiday decorations are harbingers of the season to come. Fortunately the creeping plague of Christmas music has not yet started (but it will be here sooner than one likes).
This is the true symbol of summer, the backyard barbeque. Pictured here is my brother’s attempt to turn hamburgers into charcoal. But there is no easy way to merchandise this symbol, so I have provided an image.
One of the great pleasures of summer is going to an open-air farmer’s market. Sunshine, blue skies, and fresh produce, with finding a parking place the only negative. The locations change from time to time, but this one in a city park has been around for a while.
Oh yeah, it’s located in a funky older part of town (it’s gentrified, but not too much).
This tent features pickles of various sorts that are made by actual farmers from south of here. They are delicious and I have some in the refrigerator right now.
I’m not sure if sprouting seeds counts as farming, but one can also purchase such things here.
Yeah, I guess he would be considered a farmer of sorts. One can also find persons selling fancy dog biscuits, soap, juice drinks, pasta, crafts and other sorts of miscellaneous items.
But surely the best reason to go over to the market is this! Fresh from the tree and grown on the other side of the mountains these are fabulously delicious. The season will soon be over and I will have to wait an entire year for this succulent treat. (Note: store peaches look exactly like this, but they are a fraud, and do not taste the same.) So enjoy the bounty of summer while it lasts, and I will eat a peach just for you.
There is a local (maybe it’s everywhere?) tradition of having the first Friday of the month as an “art day”. Galleries stay open late, sometimes they have drinks and nibbles (always guaranteed to bring in folks) and various art shows have openings. And on this day, there was one at the local museum, so there I was. There are the superstars of art, they rake in the bucks for the least doodle, the 1% of the 1%. Then there is everybody else.
I was standing in line to get my drink (no nibbles) and looked up at the Chihuly overhead. This museum has three such pieces. I would rank him as a superstar of art because he not only sells pieces, he doesn’t even make these himself. Individual bits are made by the assistants, and the artist directs how they are put together (pretty sweet deal). However, today’s artist is a local.
So besides creating art for the wall, he also creates practical art in these decorated skateboard decks. Perhaps they will be more interesting once they have seen use, or maybe they will remain pristine.
This artist is versatile, if you don’t want to wreck your skateboard, you can have a full size version of the art.
The artist was there with a bunch of friends and we chatted for a bit. He had also made an art vending machine, instead of bubble gum one could get a tiny Xeroxed ‘zine for 50 cents. And there were embroidered ball caps for $40. I wished him lots of sales (and I took home a ‘zine).
Besides art there was also music. Mostly the groups around town that I have heard play oldies, but these guys were playing original (at least I thought it was original) music described as “alternative and neo soul” to an invisible crowd.
Art is about ultimately about inspiration and creation, and this takes a variety of forms, independent of money. Sometimes it even can be found right outside our windows.
Every year I make at least one piece of art for a juried show. The first show that I ever entered was a local quilt show. I had made a piece that I really liked, and those judges hated every thing about it, even the back. I was encouraged by a friend to enter it in this juried show. I was accepted and got a really great hang space, and I have been entering this show ever since.
So this was the original idea for one piece. I started it in a workshop where everyone else was making self portraits. This idea is interesting, but too complicated, I was going for super simple.
This is more better, but it needed to have another house for the sake of symmetry (oh curse the need for symmetry. I was sick of it at this point).
So this is how it ended up. Am I happy with it? Not exactly, the background is boring and the lines could be stronger, but it took a lot of effort to quilt around each bit, so it’s done.
And this was the second piece. I had wanted to do a portrait of the elusive blue heron for a while. I often see them flying around at dusk and I have never been able to photograph one, I just have to enjoy it in the moment. So these were sample backgrounds.
I started off trying for realism, but that seemed rather dull, so things did get a bit abstract.
This is how it ended up, and of course I would like to change bits, and add more. But, the deadline for submission was up, so off it went. And to my good fortune both pieces were juried in, so that’s the end of anxiety and second-guessing until next year (or perhaps sooner).
So there is an organization that sponsors art fairs in the region, and whoever they are, decided that our city needed one too. It was a lovely, hot summer day, and I had decided that I needed a bit of culture, so there I was (also, it was a free event, my favorite kind). It was held on the grounds of a private school, which was built as a replica of the Trianon (nothing pretentious in that, is there?).
The fair was itself consisted of a series of white tents, each holding a hopeful artist and their wares waiting for some interest from prospective buyers. (I was not there to buy, I don’t even have any wall space left to hang things.) Many of the folks were slowly strolling along the grounds of this school, as the artists sat in the shade and watched us pass.
The art is original, in that it is painted by hand, but I suspect that if these paintings were sold a similar version would take it’s place.
There was a lovely green lawn between the rows of booths set up along the paths, and this dog was there enjoying chasing a frisbee, oblivious to the goings-on.
I must say that the class of 1990 cheesed out in their parting gift to the school (really? a rock plus a sign). I at least, did not find it especially inspirational, however, art is in the eye of the beholder. So perhaps this was a perfect piece for a hot day, strolling amongst the works on offer.
Well it only took four forevers to get this site back in shape and secure, but it was done, albeit with a lot of fumbling and cursing. There have been lots of improvements in technology, yet there is still plenty of room for user error.
So what’s been happening here in the summertime?
The start of summer is always marked by the Air Force Academy graduation. I have never bothered to watch the air show, but I found myself in a position to catch this and it was fantastic. I could also see the freeway, where they blocked off all traffic so that the President could travel unhindered. It’s always a nuisance when politicians bother to show up.
Summer always means lots of music of all kinds, this was bluegrass played at a church (did you guess this?). Why were we inside on a summer’s day?
Oh yeah, there are often thunderstorms that roll in, and this year there have been quite a lot.
After a slow start to summer, everything has started to bloom, like this, our state flower (yes, it’s official by proclamation of some governor. There is also an official state dinosaur and two official songs).
Jazz in the garden at a different church.
Classic rock at a bar.
And funk at a shopping center. What all of these music venues have in common (besides me) is that they are appealing to old people (also me). I decided that’s because young people might get rowdy and want to stay up late, while us oldies just wish to enjoy some tunes and go home to bed early.
Summers are lovely, and this one is already half gone, so I had better check the schedule to see who is playing next.
It’s been quite a while since the last post. I have been working to upgrade whatever needed upgrading and as I am computer illiterate and busy with other things this has taken a bit of time. But life goes on and I have been doing things like this:
Yes, I went to a four day writer’s workshop (and I know that you are thinking “it’s about time”.) This service dog was at the first workshop prepping for his debut as the star of a series of children’s books. The series could be titled “What a good boi”.
A number of the published authors at this fest were also selling their books. I liked this title because it made me think “What would stop a Canadian Werewolf? Not silver bullets, but perhaps maple syrup or poutine,” and where would one find this in New York?
And what kind of conference does not have a bar? This is where the important business of any conference is done.
Part of every conference is mealtime with a speaker. One enters a large noisy room, full of tables and chooses a place to sit, hopefully with persons one knows or wants to know. This conference requires presenters to each host a table so that one may have informal discussions over a meal. But at this point I was sick of talking to people and there was an empty table. So I took a place setting and made my own ‘pariah table’. I was joined by another introvert and we commiserated about speaking so much to strangers.
So was the conference worth it? I did get to hang out with my friend the writer, I spoke to a few souls, I ate hotel food and I spent a lot of time driving back and forth. Did I learn anything? Yes, my preferred way of punctuation is wrong and at least one editor would reject it on that basis (not that I am submitting anything). And I am not interested in selling anything, just writing this little blog mainly for myself. And you.
My physical dictionary is so old that it does not include the current definition for “graffiti”. It does have the word “graffito: (plural graffiti) which is an inscription or drawing scratched on a rock or wall.” As this was written 60 years ago, it’s not very accurate, the meaning has slightly changed, and graffiti is a common part and annoyance of urban living now.
Only slightly newer than my dictionary, this graffiti bears the symbols of the the later 60’s. Perhaps the current tenant, now an elderly person, put it there years ago after this place stopped being grain storage for farmers (there’s none of them around anyway).
The doorway may have been the first spot for graffiti to appear, but it’s certainly not the last. This building remains a popular spot for tagging because it’s located under a bridge, down by the railroad tracks, so there is no one to notice or complain. The roof on the other side is visible from the highway, so the city paid our money to make a tourist billboard (like we need more tourists).
This one is in the standard sort of tagging with abstract stylized lettering, and one wonders, what does it say or mean? I have no clue, but the artist took the time to beautifully execute this, and it will soon be gone as the building gets gentrified.
In a nod to the style of Banksy, this bird graces an I-beam. (Also it takes much less time to execute before anyone notices what one is up to).
Our city likes to follow the current trends for downtown art and attractions, so they have been mimicking graffiti by adding paintings to the town. This piece is of water is cascading down the side of the bus depot, where those unfortunate enough to be forced to use our pathetic public transportation wait.
Water seems to have a harmless sort of symbolism. This is not a city building, but it’s an apartment for persons who wish to live downtown, instead of near a grocery store.
Yes, even our friendly police station has embraced the trend. This giant building is full of just offices, if you need to be arrested, you have to go to the county jail (which has no graffiti). This sign seems to be melting, perhaps because it is south facing. And again, we taxpayers funded this. Oh well, I guess that makes all of us locals patrons of the arts (and a magnet for tourists).
I have lived in this city for a number of years, and yet, I had never been out to the house of the city founder. It’s hidden away near a canyon in the foothills and is not really visible from the road. Apparently, it is currently owned by a religious organization (you can thank them for the bible in your hotel room) and operates as a hotel and tea room. Since we wanted tea (and had a reservation) this was the day to check it out.
It was one of those spring days where it can’t decide whether to rain, snow or be sunny, so it did a bit of each. At this moment in time it was very windy and warm.
It’s located at the start of the foothills and these upright stones that mark the location were pushed into position when the mountain made it’s way to the surface.
And here it is in all of it’s pretensions to being a castle. The city founder had made a fortune in railroads after the Civil War and he poured the money out into building this for his missus. She however, was unimpressed with the setting, as it was too far from her ideas of civilization, so she moved away (to London, which is a rather nice place to live if one has pots of money).
The house is full of charming period details, massive fireplaces, oak paneling etc. I liked these horse head chairs (really, I would take one home if I could sneak it out somehow.)
We had a choice of teas, and were served a number of dainty eats, but no sausage rolls (and I consider this an essential element of a proper tea).
And on the way out we spotted a couple of residents. The male was all puffed out for the benefit of the hens, and they could not have been less interested in his display. Perhaps this is the real story of the house as well.
As it has been 365 days since the planet travelled around the sun, it was once again time for the big show in the city to the north. The week before I had a virus and was not really sure if I wanted to go, but the tidal pull of tradition won out and there I was.
I drove up to the event along a different path and I almost missed it. Gone were the warehouses, workingmen’s bars and cafes and in it’s place were shiny new millennial cages (apartments), coffee bars and paths for one’s bicycle and dogs. It’s progress of a sort, I suppose.
Inside was mostly the usual sort of things, but I was struck by this eagle’s foot sticking up from someone’s suitcase. I assume the owner displayed it for a dance and now it was just resting there until the need arose again.
There are always vendors of various necessities, such as star quilts. Are they a necessity? Why yes, I myself have made at least 8 of these (maybe more, I forget).
And going to this event is always an excuse to buy some new clothing. Some of the items are handmade, but apparently the Chinese have learned to make appealing things as well.
To be included in the Grand Entry and judging one has to wear a full dance outfit, but for the inter-tribal dances anyone can join in.
The newest styles this year involved a lot of sparkle, like a dance shawl or dress made with sequined fabric. But there are also the traditionalists like this man. And although the styling is traditional, there are more details in the outfit than would have been available 100 years ago.
Now I am just waiting for the planet to travel around the sun one more time, and I will be ready to do it all again (and next time I will bring a dance shawl).
