It took a while for the promised snow to arrive on Friday. Everything closed early, and we were home and waiting a little after noon. But the real snow didn't start until late afternoon. Coban was ready with the shovel.
Two days later, the sun emerged. And so did the beautiful light and patterns.
I love how the wind formed the snow into soft curves.
Today I felt truly grateful for change. Sometimes, just when you think you've had enough of something, a new thing arrives to take its place.
At some point last year I woke up and realized that there is art--really good art--available very, very close to us. As in, Pittsburgh. And I vowed to see more of what's going on at the Carnegie Museum of Art. Right now there's a great Peter Muller-Munk exhibit that features beautiful silver pieces, as well as purely functional but oh-so-well designed items like vacuums. And power tools.
I loved the pots and the stove displayed in this exhibit. The aesthetic reminds me of the very cute Smeg refrigerator that's popular in design circles right now (including certain hotels in Austin), a throw back to the old retro versions.
Can you imagine the fun of vacuuming with these hot little numbers? I can see how the 50's housewives may have been suckered . . .
Above are two different razors--one for underarms and one for legs. Such marketing skills!
I even enjoy the standard features of this museum, such as the courtyard below at the back entrance and the line-up of waterfalls at the front. They're also featuring a really nice modern collection of art from Jane Haskell's personal collection right now. I didn't take pics for fear of admonishment by museum staff, but it's very much worth seeing.
It's been a strange winter here, so I guess it's no surprise that we started our hike on Saturday in t-shirts. The Virgin Hemlock Trail is one of my favorites in any season--short enough that even slow-poke kids can do it, and with an enchanting other-worldly feel in parts, thanks to a large grove of hemlocks that's over 300 years old.
In the summer you can walk through the creek to cool off. Saturday it reminded me so much of Oregon--the moss was so vibrantly green.
I love all the textures. We saw so many different varieties of lichen and moss (and this crazy spoor-filled puff ball above right).
My dad is a forester. He tried to teach Coban helpful things, like how you can identify a hemlock tree by turning the needles over to see if they have stripes on the back. Coban was much more interested in hooking the bungee cord he brought along to my Dad's belt loop or using it to haul logs he found along the trail. What can I say? He's 5.
I love how ice and water create such great compositions. If you haven't been, you should definitely check this trail out. It's also amazing in the snow.
I had some extra time this month, and I really (really) wanted to go some place I'd never been before. In fact, I had Toronto in mind. For some reason I'd never been (except once in the airport, which doesn't count), despite the fact that it's only about 6 hours from Morgantown. I felt pretty lucky when my friend wrote and asked me when we were going to go on a girls' trip, and she was willing and excited to try Toronto. We drove up a couple days after Christmas. We stayed downtown, where we saw some great architecture. I was surprised by the throngs of people out and about on Sunday afternoon. It felt like Manhattan.
We walked through Chinatown on our way to Kensington Market, and it smelled delicious. Not to mention the crazy sites--I definitely think my favorite was the plastic food.
My friend recommended Kensington Market to me, and it did not disappoint (though no pictures here--it was too dark). There were an astonishing number of interesting shops, bars, and restaurants, as well as fruit and veggie markets that reminded me of ones I saw in Israel. We saw streets filled with adorable gingerbread Victorians, and there were murals and fantastic graffiti everywhere. We were there a bit late and lots of things were closed, so I definitely need to return on another visit in the daytime and fully explore there.
For fear of data roaming charges, I ended up not having access to google maps much of the time. That left us using a paper map to get around, which didn't contain a lot of smaller streets. On our way to the Distillery District we took a wrong turn and ended up in the Financial District downtown. The starkness of the buildings was impressive and interesting though, so we didn't mind. But it was cold. The wind. Don't forget to account for the wind. On the other hand, while we stood looking at our map, a man came up and asked if we needed help, and then gave us directions. Those Canadians have a good reputation for a reason.
Above is a street close to St. Lawrence Market, which we tried to see, but it was closed on Monday. (Another thing for next time.) From there we made our way to the Distillery District, a charming cobble-stoned area with so many cute shops and restaurants. It's also home to Mill Street Brewery, which had a beer garden that looked lovely for a warmer time. We had a beer inside, of course, along with the most delicious edamame I've ever had. It came with a lovely sweet/hot sauce that was unexpected and quite impressive.
Is this not the cutest little courtyard? I love the decor so much. There was also a stylish fire pit in the middle.
The area beyond this sign was an ice rink not far from our hotel. We were pretty happy to see it again after walking through some fairly extreme ice and snow. It was in fact so intense that at one point we laughed hysterically--and yet, we both thought it was pretty fun. What an adventure. And, I felt like I truly experienced the Canada from my favorite childhood novel (set in Montreal), Calico Captive.
We ended with a visit to Sweet Jesus. We were too early for their super fancy soft serve, but I got an eggnog topped with Earl Grey whipped cream, walnuts, fried sweet potatoes, and a strip of fried ginger. Oh my. Mindy had an espresso topped with charred marshmallows. She ate the rim of graham cracker crust for several miles as we drove with not an ounce of shame.
I feel like we only scratched the surface of this city, and I can't wait to go back.
I've been thinking about new goals as the new year approaches, but I'm also trying to really appreciate the things I accomplished this year. I turned 35 in January, and for some reason this birthday really hit me. While I don't feel particularly old, I feel like I am undoubtedly of "mom age." So, to celebrate, cope, etc., I devised a photo project for myself to commemorate the year.
Called Project 35, the idea was to end the year with four sets of 35 photos taken within 3.5 miles from my house, within 35, within 350, and within 3500 miles. I framed this project rather loosely, with the idea that I wanted to notice and appreciate what was right around me. It definitely got me out exploring a lot of small towns around here and gave me that extra bit of purpose I needed when I set out with my camera. (This is the bane of my existence, needing a purpose behind everything.)
Halfway through the project, I took a fantastic photo class called the Jackson Hole Photography Workshop, taught by Michael Sherwin from WVU and John Holmgren from Franklin and Marshall. It had been years since I'd been to Jackson Hole, and I hadn't been back out west since leaving Montana in 2007. While there this time around, I had the distinct feeling of being in the right place at the right time, something I must admit I haven't felt a lot lately. I was so excited to be learning from photographers who are also fine artists, alongside other people who were as psyched as me to be sent outside with their cameras in amazingly beautiful settings.
This was a college class, and since I was one of four non-traditional students, I often got dibs on sitting in the front of the van with Michael or riding with John in his pickup truck. I talked to John a lot about his work and how he created projects for himself (be sure check out his stuff--he does some really interesting mixed media pieces of the man camps in North Dakota, as well as some great work in the arctic). I told him about Project 35, and his comment was this: Just finish it. Whatever you do, just complete the project. So I did.
You can check out all four sets on my Flickr site. I've organized them chronologically within each album so the progress will be apparent. If there's one thing the photo workshop did for me, it was to give me a more critical eye. Suddenly I began to see technical problems I'd completely missed before, and it was surprisingly difficult to find 20 good images for the final portfolio, despite having taken hundreds, if not thousands, during that week. That said, I don't hold these groups of 35 photos out as being fantastic, because I can see lots of flaws, but more as an example of one way to move forward while trying to develop a skill.
Since taking up photography more seriously about two years ago, I've wondered exactly what my style is and how to make my work hang together. This project has been really helpful because some themes and commonalities have emerged.
Do you see any trends? Anything worth pursuing further? As you'd expect, the new year needs a new project.
In case it wasn't clear from the last post, there are three stand-out reasons to go to Asheville (in any season, really): the food, the beer, and the art. Thanks to the clean water flowing down from the mountains, there are two dozen breweries located there now, from local places with fairly small operations to the new east coast facility that Sierra Nevada just opened outside of town. Their tap room was packed at 3:30 on a Friday. We wondered who exactly this crowd was. Locals? Tourists? Despite being huge and obviously commercial, the space was nicely done, with a large stage out back for music.
Everywhere we went, there was evidence of artistic influence--clearly there are many, many creative types there. Above is a letterpress shop owned by a former Bostonian in the River Arts District, where lots of artists working in various media make and sell their wares. A painter we met told us artists began relocating there several years back when rent got too high in other parts of the city.
I loved the illustrations on the posters below, as well as the lovely stick art surrounding the door of the shop above.
Downtown Asheville has its own art scene, such as the art gallery located in the old Woolworth's building, known as Woolworth Walk. To be featured there, artists must live within a certain geographic area (I think 25 miles from the city?) and are selected by jury.
I went on this trip with the idea that I would try to discern what it is that this town has that others don't (ahem, Morgantown). In the back of my mind was the question--can we do it too? Is there some recipe we can follow to create our own version of Asheville? By the time we got to West Asheville, I began to think no. I'd already seen so much, and this part of town only had more. Murals, organic ice cream shops, cute boutiques. A honey shop, for heaven's sake.
If ever a place made me want to own my own food establishment, it was Biscuit Head. I love biscuits in a huge way, and theirs are huge, delicious, flaky--divine really.
And what did they do to top off with these perfect biscuits the size of a cat's head? They made their own inventive jams and butters. There must have been at least 30 spreads to choose from, from classics like raspberry jam to unique blends like amaretto peach. Seriously. Heaven.
The level of creativity, of entrepreneurship--it so vastly exceeds what we have going on in Morgantown right now, that I'm not sure it's possible to create that type of scene here any time soon.
Having made my way through Jared Diamond's Guns, Germs, and Steel this month, I'm sensitive to how geography and both environmental and economic resources influence what happens in a place. Both Morgantown and Asheville are located in the mountains, have rivers running through and a fairly hilly topography, and are surrounded by relatively poor, rural areas. And of course the natural question is, why there and not here? What about that town allows artists and small independently-owned businesses to flourish while only a few seem to do really well here?
In addition to a larger population, one thing that Asheville has had both historically and in recent years is a serious influx of cash from investors and entrepreneurs. This is something that West Virginia has historically lacked, and that continues to this day. While there is quite a bit of growth and development happening in Morgantown right now, it doesn't have the same artistic flavor. Personally I think there's a real lack of appreciation for aesthetics in this town, and while we have more local restaurants and businesses than a lot of other West Virginia towns, only a few seem to genuinely thrive. And so in addition to a relative lack of resources, I think there may not be the interest here in creating such a place--at least not in the numbers needed to really make it happen.
Asheville's newspaper has done a series of articles about how the city has changed over the years. One interesting point they made is that while Asheville has experienced tremendous growth and is now a national tourist destination, it's become difficult for those holding the service jobs that cater to tourists to actually afford to live there. Or to make a real living on the wages they're paid. This is the kind of fact that brings me back to reality. Yes, that town looks amazing and inspiring and is so much fun to visit. But the homes are pricey and out of reach for many (not to mention we were told most good ones get swiped up before they even hit the market).
And with this, the lesson I've learned many times before rears its head again: every place has its positives and negatives. Not to mention the corresponding gem: Wherever you are, there you will be. (I try to keep this one in mind when I get off track thinking if only I lived __, my life would be so much more exciting!) As my friend said to me on our run this weekend, sometimes it seems really good to live in a place where everything isn't already perfect--because there your efforts can really make a difference. What do you think? Are we justifying here or speaking truth?
It's not often that I'm able to say yes to going somewhere cool for the weekend, so when my friend asked if I wanted to go to Asheville to help her find a place to live, I was pretty psyched to be able to say yes. I hadn't been since college, and things have changed. "The people" are raving about this town for a reason. There was an almost overwhelming number of cool and interesting things going on, not the least of which was the beer scene.
Our first stop was Wicked Weed, where I had the Pernicious IPA (the lighter colored one above), and Ashley had the Tyranny. Amazingly delicious, and served in a very cool atmosphere--trendy yet earthy. One thing that struck me on this visit is that there appear to be some very good iron workers (people doing iron work?) in Asheville. We saw large pieces of metal that could have been used in the floor of a workshop re-purposed as asymmetrical shutters and custom arced bar stool tables with metal frames and wooden tops at Hi Wire, where they also had some amazingly huge lanterns (perhaps 10 feet wide?), as well as a delicious Pale Ale (but they're apparently known for their lagers).
Dinner the first night was at White Duck Taco Shop. I am a lover of tacos, and we don't get a lot of good ones in West Virginia. (Though to give credit where credit's due, Charleston's Black Sheep does count.)
The ones at White Duck did not disappoint. Below on the right is the fish. On the left are mushroom potato and the Goucho (I think), which was filled with tostones and chimichurri. All three were fantastic, but to my surprise, the star was the mushroom potato. It was so perfectly seasoned, and the textures were amazing. The margarita was also spot on.
Last stop on Friday was at Green Man Brewery, where they allow doggies in the tap room and serve a nice Pale Ale.
I took a whole lot of pics, so there's more to come.
Because Nick and Michele bought this house as a foreclosure, they were able to get a special construction loan that allowed them to completely gut the insides and start fresh, albeit on a fairly tight time-table. They took down walls, hung barn-style doors to separate spaces, and inserted closets (and even a bathroom under the stairs) where none had been before. The outside got painted just recently, and the landscaping out front was completed the day before Porchfest.
Nick made the giant prints hanging in the dining room and framed them using reclaimed floor boards taken from old houses around town. (For a while he and a friend sold mirrors framed in reclaimed wood, until the wood stash ran out.)
Michele got this Buddha lamp at an antique shop in Five Points.
The windows are original, but the laminate floor (which is beautiful and does not look like laminate to me), the molding, and all the paint and fixtures are new.
Michele used spray paint to unify this collection of jars-turned-candle-holders, using her favorite Little Bo Peep bottle as the centerpiece.
Yara followed me the whole time I was photographing. The piece above her is of Starlight, a bar that used to be in Jacksonville's Five Points area (where we naturally spent some time sampling at least a couple craft beers at fine establishments such as this).
Carlos, looking so sweet and innocent . . .
This kitchen is fully equipped for a chef. And let me tell you, Nick does not let it go to waste.
Michele's responsible for painting a lot of the furniture and arranging all the little vignettes. Nick made quite a bit of the artwork, including the painted skulls.
The whole family: Carlos above, Yara below, and the people in charge (ha!) are Michele and Nick.
Don't let these pictures fool you--I am not a fan of fowl of any kind, generally speaking. (I once hit a very scary rooster with a bucket because he wouldn't stop chasing me.) But I had to go into the field for work last week and was pleasantly surprised to find this flock of chickens along the way.
Perched on a hilltop above the Marcellus well site we visited in Wetzel County is an A-frame house where several well operators from Louisiana have been living. Just down the hill from the A-frame is a chicken coop that houses several chickens and three roosters. Apparently they can lay up to 20 eggs per day. These operators not only decided they wanted to keep chickens while living in WV, but they also put in a garden where they grew veggies this summer. I must admit I was surprised. They only live there temporarily and still go home every few weeks.
I've been wanting to photograph the drilling activity that is so pervasive in some parts of WV for a while, and I finally got that chance. Below is a view of the drill pad from right in front of the A-frame house. The surrounding area was amazing--a series of high ridges that sloped sharply on either side with very little flat land available.
I took these shots while wearing a bright orange hard hat (the steel-toed shoes came later). The wells on this pad have already been drilled and completed. Since the rig is long gone, it's quiet now, though I'm not sure how noisy it may be when the processors are running.
Above is a wellhead, where the gas comes out of the ground. Below are water tanks that store the water that's extracted before the gas and oil go into the pipelines.
Above is a line of processing units, and below is a closer view from the back side. The gas passes through them and gets warmed so that the gas, water, and oil can be separated.
What struck me about this visit was the unexpected contrasts, the shades of gray. These wells are changing our landscape, literally and figuratively. They provide income and jobs for some people, and mar the bucolic views of others. But some of the men who've come here to tend them are the kind of people who will raise chickens and grow a garden even while they're away from home. Someone told me recently that people don't have good traits and bad traits--they have attributes. And that those attributes are either good or bad depending on the situation. I think it's crucial to be aware of the complexities here and to form opinions about this activity with a solid appreciation of the nuances. I guess the older I get, the more I see the gray. A choice that may have seemed so clearly "wrong" ten years ago I can now appreciate as one that allows someone to support a family or a way of life.
Dani during the planning phase, next to the "original" advent calendar we used as a template.
Adrian's vintage Singer, which doesn't only look pretty--it works!
sparkly magenta leaf ribbon!
Dani plotting her trim choices
Adrian combined aqua felt with gold ribbon.
Marlin swooped in and created his own felt tree in no time at all (featuring a bright orange feather!). So cute.
Ideas for the felt ornaments
Did you have an advent calendar when you were little? The kind where you do one thing every day of December until Christmas? I haven't thought about these for years. My sister and I used to take turns with the manger scene version my mom had, which had a piece of burlap as the background (hung from a stick instead of a dowel rod to complete the rustic look), with a brown felt barn and a host of felt characters and animals to be applied each day.
My lovely friend Adrian has a secular all-felt version her mother made in the 70's, and this Sunday, Adrian hosted a spectacular craft party where she, her friend Dani, and I each made our own. You know you've found some kindred spirits when the size of each other's felt collections makes you feel WAY better about your own felt habit.
We had so much fun putting a modern twist on this 70's version. Key changes:
Not gonna lie--this project is big. We started at 2 and worked well into dinner time (when we took a break for an absolutely delicious meal of homemade crab cakes served on a bed of arugula salad, which Adrian's husband Don whipped up while we worked), and we're still not quite finished. But, we got the bulk of the work done. We decided to make the ornaments on our own . . . I foresee a little coffee table/couch sewing action in my future.
Not only is Coban going to love snapping these ornaments-to-be on the tree this year, but I haven't had so much fun on a Sunday in ages.
My calendar on the left next to Adrian's mom's version.
Don's homemade crab cakes, with special sauce. I was about to fight someone for the last one, but luckily he had another batch waiting.
Such a great day to whip out the popsicle shirt!
The day before I left to visit my sister Michele and her boyfriend Nick in Jacksonville, FL this past weekend, she gave me some bad news: they had sewer problems. As in, 'we can only flush three times a day and we have to shower outside' kind of sewer problems. Eek. When she mentioned this to my dad before I came, he said, "Don't worry. Jess can pee anywhere." (True story.)
Luckily, the plumbers were able to come out on Saturday. So while we were busy cleaning up the house for guests and sprucing up the front porch, the plumbers were out back working. We had to spruce because Nick and Michele were hosting a singer/songwriter on their porch at 3 pm as part of Jacksonville's Porchfest. So, we sprayed off the porch furniture, put new candles out, etc, and were basically ready for guests to stop by around 1 when the festival started.
I decided to head out to take some pics, and as I was walking back, I get a text from Michele: "I just heard a guy say he thinks this tree is gonna fall." Turns out when the plumbers were sawing through a very large tree root to install the new sewer line, the tree attached to the root began to sway. Working in construction has its perks, and in less than an hour, Nick had a crew of the fastest moving tree guys I've ever seen working away. So while Porchfest was in full swing with a band playing directly across the street, a guy was climbing a sycamore in the side yard and taking it down, branch by branch. I must admit, it was almost as good a show as the band. Fortunately that band was loud, and while a few people definitely turned their heads and probably wondered why anyone would be taking a tree down right then, it all turned out fine.
Once that excitement was over, we got to go out and enjoy the festival. I had no idea I was in for such a treat. The streets were closed off, and for blocks around there were people in the street, listening to music (multiple porches had different musicians playing at different times), hanging out, and availing themselves of some seriously delicious food truck fare. (I had some spicy shrimp sliders, a delicious pasta salad, and a bite of the yummiest grilled cheese ever. Pretty sure the magic in that sandwich had to do with the sweet-spicy relish. So good.)
A lady I met told me part of the inspiration behind this particular Porchfest was to continue the neighborhood's long tradition of sitting outside on porches. (Springfield is an old historic neighborhood in Jacksonville that is slowly being revitalized.) Turns out porchfest as a concept originated in Ithaca in 2007, and now these types of festivals are springing up all around the country. Check here to see if there's one near you.
I have a stash of costumes in a drawer that my mom and grandmother made for me when I was a kid, and this year my construction-obsessed little boy decided he wanted to be a pumpkin. When I told my friends about it a few weeks ago, one said, "Um, does he actually want to be a pumpkin??"
Turns out not so much. Thank god we had that firefighter costume from two years ago in reserve. (And as much as I liked the idea of him choosing such a sweet, non-commercial costume, I must admit, once we got it on over his jeans and started stuffing it with batting, it started to seem a bit too small.)
You know what I liked about this last minute change-up? He felt uncomfortable in that pumpkin costume, and he immediately decided not to wear it. No second guessing. No feeling bad for the sad pumpkin. Or for his sad mother in her over-sized, overly jolly pumpkin suit (with tendrils! and a pumpkin leaf headdress!). No sir.
There are lots of things to be learned from children. Their ability to trust their instincts and not over-analyze is something to emulate. And they don't even need a lifehack to know how to do it. (Though if you do, this article makes some good points.)
