I missed the Red Carpet opening to the Oscar’s but Peggi filled me in. The big question was “Who are you wearing?” Givenchy, Louis Vuitton, Alexander McQueen, Elie Saab and Valentino.
I looked down at what I was wearing and compiled this list. A green Archive Records t-shirt with a black sweater from Banana Republic over that, black jeans, regular cut, from Lee with blue Fruit of the Loom underwear below, black socks (I usually buy them in three packs and picked these up in Sears) and then a pair of black Timberland shoes. I’m basically an “off the rack” kinda guy.
Segrada Famillia model constructed with toothpicks by Stan Munro in the “Sacred Structures”exhibit at the Assisi Institute in Rochester, New York
If you’re lucky you’ll catch Stan Munro at the Assisi Institute on North Winton. He has a table set up near his “Sacred Structures” exhibit where he’s working on a new model. He wasn’t there when we stopped in but we saw his work area. He doesn’t need much, toothpicks, Elmer’s Glue and an incredible amount of patience. It took him five years to construct the nearly thirty buildings at 1:164 scale that are on display here. We heard the Sagrada Familia was one of them and we were just at the 1:1 version so had to check this out. Gaudi’s Sagrada Familia was the most complicated for Munro but not even close to the largest. The Grand Mosque at Mecca dwarfs Notre Dame, St. Patrick’s, and the Vatican shattering my Judeo/Christian view of the world.
Paul Dodd “Model From Crime Page 13” 2012 charcoal on craft paper
They sure know how to celebrate life in Brazil. I’m thinking about what I used to give up for Lent.
I’m also thinking about who to paint. I’ve been working on the same batch of mugshots for a few years now, doing them in oil and then pencil and then tempera and even a few watercolors. Lately I’ve been working in charcoal, a medium I find very malleable. You can white out tempura but it gets messy and watercolor is almost impossible to go backwards in but a good eraser can really tear up a charcoal drawing. Maybe I should paint the twelve apostles.
Building behind Jeromes Ignition Service in Rochester, NY
Scientists love mysteries and no scientist shares that love like Laurence M. Kraus. Of course I don’t know many scientists but I did share the article on Krauss’ new best selling book in this morning’s paper with the scientist/neighbor/friend down the street.
Yellow flowers (Winter Aconite) in snow in Rochester, New York
I’ve spent the last day thinking about Rick Santorum’s observation that Obama has “a world view that elevates the earth above man.” I still going with the earth.
The coolest thing about a blog is the database. It is so damn organized. I use it to keep track of things. Every year we spot these little yellow flowers (Winter Aconite or Eranthis hyemalis) popping through the snow and since there has been a dearth of the white stuff this year the yellow flowers were up yesterday on February 19th. How much earlier is that than the last few years? I went to the db. The yellow flowers were spotted on March 9th in 2009 and March 10th in 2010.
Sea lions at the Seneca Park Zoo in Rochester, New York
Yesterday a federal judge ruled that whales do not deserve constitutional protection against slavery when held captive in a marina. Meanwhile we were celebrating Peggi’s birthday at the zoo marveling at the snow leopard, orangutans, Madagascar cockroaches, Burmese pythons, laughing hyenas, Amur tiger, bald eagles, Mexican wolves, Red Rumped Agoutis and King vultures. We spent a good part of the afternoon with the sea lions who were having a ball jumping in and out of the water and playing with buckets. The two youngest sea lions had lost an eye and the use of a flipper and were rescued. The eagles were injured in the wild and can’t fly but sat atop some fairly tall trees out in the open at the zoo, quite a dramatic sight. No signs of slavery here.
The King Bees have a very cool scene going over at The Beale in the Southwedge on Wednesday nights. They play an opening set of standards from the rock era like seasoned pros and then gracefully turn the spotlight on the musicians in waiting. Last night they had four tenor saxophones, one played by a sixteen year old whose parents sat in the front table. Drummer Pete Monacelli’s wife, Gloria, sits off to the left with her knitting circle and the Buffalo Sabres game is on the tv above the stage.
Author Sonja Livingston speaking at the downtown Rochester library
Grand Avenue, Leighton Avenue, Bowman Street, Upper and Lower East Main Street and Lamont Place. Sonja Livingston glanced at the list of streets that surrounded our old house in the city. I had jotted them down as I read her book, “Ghostbread“, and Peggi had opened it to that same blank page in the front of the book in order to have Sonja sign our copy. It is interesting to me that so much of her bleak and beautiful memoir took place on the streets of our old neighborhood.
Sonja had a packed house at the downtown library on Super Bowl Sunday. Standing room only. Her husband, painter Jim Mott, manned the merchandise table and sold every copy of the book they brought. We’ve given copies of her book to a few people as gifts and we learned from the question/comment session that many others had done the same. The book is that moving.
Sonja read from “Ghostbread” but she read too fast. Even though the chapters are short I wanted her to linger over them and so I could savor their beauty. She had many in the crowd tell her how much this book meant to them, some were people who grew up with her, and it was all quite emotional. There were publishing and craft-like questions from other writers which Sonja handled with charming efficiency and I was thinking, “Can’t you see? This woman is a natural.” But what do I know. I can’t even spell. She said she hoped we realize that people in poverty are just like you and me in every other way.
Beige house with Let It Snow banner in the window Rochester, New York
We always have a January thaw but this is ridiculous. We finally get a few inches of sow and now it’s 50 degrees and sunny, too messy to walk or ski in the woods so we headed off toward the bay. This house with the “Let It Snow” banner in the window expressed our sentiments exactly.
My aunt is in hospice and my father was thinking it would be nice to get someone up there to play some music for her. Of course we suggested Phil Marshall, a music therapist and genuine top shelf musician. My aunt is going to suggest a few songs and I’m certain it will be great.
Years back we did a “My Funeral“print version of the Refrigerator I remember thinking about a few songs that I would like to her at my own funeral and of course that doesn’t make any sense at all because I will be in a little can at that point. Peggi Lee “Is That All There Is?”, George Jones “He Stopped Loving Her Today”, Joni Mitchell’s “Circle Game”, Eric Dolphy’s “Serene or maybe James Brown’s “Night Train.” I’m pretty sure no one would want to hear the long version of Sun Ra’s “Space Is The Place.”
When my brother’s father in law died the funeral home had his body in a closed cassket and they wheeled him into a room where we were all sitting and they played Sinatra’s “My Way” over the little speakers mounted in the ceiling without any introduction or set up and it was a very strange experience. He was a lot more fun than that. So there are a lot details to work out if you want pull off something like this. It has to be done in a party atmosphere for starters.
Two kinds of tortilla in case at El Glop in Barcelona
Remember the Chevy Nova? Peggi had an orange one when I first met her. We drove it all the way to the bottom of Mexico. Terrible name for a car in a Spanish speaking country. “No go!” “El Glop” is not the best name for attracting English speaking people to your restaurant and maybe that was the whole idea. We had coffee there and some tortilla and then returned for dinner. The place was fantastic.
We’ve been savoring our Barcelona hangover, pouring over photos, having our big meal early like they do in Spain, getting up late and buying Spanish products at Wegmans like Manchego and Valdeon cheese, caramelized pecans and chocolate covered figs. We’re almost as bad as the kid in “Breaking Away” who thought he was Italian. Peggi’s reading the Spanish version of Architectural Digest that we bought at the airport as I write this. A good snowstorm would snap us out of this but I don’t think this winter has it in it.
Last night we made fish with a mushroom and fig sauce, something we had twice in Barcelona, once with cod and once with hake. And the other night we made a batch of Espinacas con Garbanzos, something we went looking for in Spain because we’d fallen in love with it. Spinach, chick peas, paprika, saffron and cumin, it almost tastes Indian or maybe Moroccan. We found a recipe online.
Our iPad has become an essential kitchen appliance. I loved Thomas Friedman’s column the other day on how a tablet at the table in restaurants will allow you to put your order through to the kitchen, list ingredients with photos, tally your calories and pay your bill without a waiter. He left out the part about how your food gets to the table but it will take a big bite out of the service industry which has become the backbone of our economy. Our friend, Kevin Vicalvi, used to say, “In the future we’ll all be delivering pizzas to one another” but that was a long time ago.
We walked by the Circ Raluy tents a few times in the last week before deciding to buy a couple of tickets. We waited in line with families, kids with their grandparents and other couples for about a half hour before they opened the gates to the big tent in grand fashion with music from Nino Roto’s “Amarcord” soundtrack blaring from the sound system. I take back what I said last week about animal abuse in the circus. I mean it may still be the case but this circus had no animals, only clowns, jugglers, acrobats and some amazing entertainers. We realized the clowns are not just some fluff between the acts, they are the real meat of the circus. They play to the kids but get to the kid in all of us. They won us over. I do remember the clowns being my favorite part when I was kid but I guess I forgot.
Certain songs transcend pop and work as international soundtracks. Bowie’s “Heroes” sounded like a million dollars in a café. Madonna sounded good spilling out of a clothing store and onto the street. Blondie’s “Heart of Glass” sounded great in the bakery. Michael Jackson sound’s good anywhere. And T Rex’s “Bang A Gong” sounded fantastic on a bus this morning in Barcelona. Margaret Explosion has to work on its International chops.
The best part of the day in Spain for us is drinking café con leche. We pick our cafés carefully and sometimes pass up ten before choosing the right one. It’s nice when the spot is lively but not too crowded and preferably off the beaten path a bit, típico places with locals drinking their coffee out of small glasses. There is one near where we are staying that we’ve even been to twice because the coffee is great and we love our server. Last time we were here we had café con leche, pinchos de tortilla (one with zucchini in it, one traditional Español) and we followed that up with two cortados (a small cup of coffee with hot milk served in a short glass). We came all the way over here for this.
Circus sets up in Barcelona for the month of January
The circus is in town! They’ve set up their tents on an empty lot near the port of Barcelona. They’re here for the month of January. Attendance should be mandatory but we’re way too busy and there is the issue of animal abuse. It’s a complicated world.
If someone wheeled a sound system on to one of the streets in downtown Rochester and sang arias in Italian at the top of his lungs he would probably be arrested. The guy in the trench coat above held this crowd of passersby captive and had a woman kissing him on the cheek and whispering in his ear as we strolled by.
We live in Rochester for reasons that are not entirely cultural. They are perfectly valid reasons and as varied as we are. We like a small city with easy access to the countryside and weather of all extremes. Opera on the street is not on the menu.
Indoor horse shoe courts are grown man’s fantasy. We stopped at a gas station on the way up to Pete and Shelley’s in the Adirondacks a few years ago and we asked to use the bathroom. They told us to go through a building out back and use the bathroom there. It was this amazing site. I think about this at this time of year when we put our horseshoes away. We don’t live in Floyd, New York so I can only dream about what color to paint the shoes this winter.
Bill and Geri’s neighbor’s are moving. This might be the time for someone to snag the white, wrought iron love seat that sits in their neighbor’s front lawn. It looks like a romantic rocket launcher for memory laden dreamers.
I enjoyed Michael Kimmelman’s article in the NYT this morning and passed it along to my father and our Madrileño amigo, Julio. A relatively inexpensive park built on top of a newly buried highway that had once torn the city apart with 1970’s style urban blight is transforming the lives and livelihoods of Madrileños.
The City of Rochester recently lost it’s bid for state funding of the “Death To The Inner Loop” project in Rochester but this this is not the time to put this movement on the back burner. Why should the state have to pay for this? This is a money maker. Let’s bring the canal back to the city center and fill in the portion of the Loop between East Main and Monroe. This will transform the lives and livelihoods of Rochesterians. Mr. Kimmelman will be back to do an article on this bustling cultural center.
Deer in meadow near Durand Eastman Park in Rochester, New York
Last time I posted a picture of a deer Steve Piotrowski painted a picture of it and used it as his holiday card. The card arrived today and is stunning. I’ve known Steve since our Holy Trinity days. We were in a split class together, 5th and 6th in the same classroom, about fifty kids in the class.
We were just talking about Catholic school at dinner last night. My memories of it play like a Fellini movie and I have a deep well of stories but they go over best with other one time Catholics so I’ll restrain myself.
Snowmen on Knollwood Drive in Brighton outside of Rochester New York
We drove out to Eastview Mall for Lord & Taylors “Friends & Family Sale”, whatever that means, with our email coupon. We did the same thing last year, the last time we were here, and we ran into the same two people that we ran into last year, a married woman and her male “friend”. Peggi bought some jeans and I couldn’t find anything. I have better luck at Sears or the Salvation Army’s Thrift Store.
We drove home through Pittsford and then Brighton instead of hopping on the damn expressway and we took a few detours to look at the lights. This house on Knollwood Drive right near Oak Hill Country Club, home of the 1989 US Open, had these life size,”life size” is not right, human sale snowmen, “snowmen” is not right, snow people. One for each member of the happy extended family (click the photo to see the whole thing). Or maybe the whole clan lived here. The house was gigantic.
