Focus on Color: Yellow

The nine-year old doesn’t get too excited about neighborhood walks unless there’s a little game involved. Sometimes we bring the football to pass back and forth as we go. Yesterday I lured him out by handing him a camera.

These are my photos, not his, but I like to hope that maybe I’ve planted a seed.

Meanwhile, the walk felt like something of a scavenger hunt as we looked for all things yellow. I like the symbolism here: you find what you’re looking for.

Maybe this will turn into a little mini series as we make our way through the coming weeks of quasi isolation. Nothing like being put in a box by a virus to stimulate some outside-the-box creativity.

Morgantown murals!

Earlier this year, I started volunteering at Arts Mon (Monongalia County’s art council) and attended my first Arts Collaborative meeting. I learned about a cool pop-up art event that was planned for the courthouse square and that the Arts Collaborative had worked with the City and Mainstreet Morgantown to wrap downtown trash cans in work by local artists. But the thing I heard that got me all excited was this: Morgantown has a mural initiative.

Since that meeting not six months ago, five new murals have popped up downtown. And they’re good.

A local family painted a giant rainbow on one of their downtown buildings that sends a cheerful, open message as you head into town from the Westover bridge. If you cross that bridge and continue up Pleasant Street to the local co-op, you’ll see that it now has a giant cardinal on its outside wall. (All you West Virginia history nerds will recognize this as West Virginia’s state bird.)

The next and newest contribution is hiding in an alley on Court Street, which connects High and Spruce Streets across from the courthouse. I really like how that new mural works in harmony with the existing graffiti.

Court Street leads through to Spruce. As you continue North, you’ll pass Health Right, a free clinic that treats low-income and underinsured patients. The side of the building that borders a quaint alley called Wall Street now highlights four local leaders’ contributions to the community. In very pretty colors.

Next, cross the Walnut Street bridge into South Park to find the new image gracing the parking lot of Gene’s, Morgantown’s oldest (and arguably best) local dive bar. The Gene’s mural coordinates with a recently-painted rainbow crosswalk that adds a little spice to the whole block and continues that same message of acceptance.

As you can see from this Pinterest board I started a while back, I love the idea of art on buildings and in crosswalks and on benches and on park picnic tables. It takes the ordinary and transforms it into something happy and inspiring. And sometimes, it leads to real change.

Princeton, WV transformed its downtown over the past few years, and it all started with murals. That story about Princeton got me so excited, I ended up geeking out on creative placemaking and doing a whole lot of internet reading about what art can do for a community. (I have a few ideas.)

All this happened because a really committed group of Morgantown citizens got together to push through some red tape, acquire some funding, and make space for artists to express themselves in a way that everyone can enjoy. To those people I want to say thank you. You’ve given me some new hope. And to everyone else: Let’s keep this going.

Could you live where -60 degrees isn't out of the question?

When I lived in Montana, I was surprised at how many Minnesotans had relocated there. Montana winters are serious, but Minnesota’s are even more so. But when you land in Minneapolis on a sunny Spring day and head straight to an 11-acre sculpture garden, you start to think, well, maybe I could live here…

The Minneapolis Sculpture Garden is right in the city, not far from downtown. The scale of its pieces fit nicely with the cityscape in the background.

I got a kick out of watching this couple play with the mirrors on this piece. You can just see her faint outline from the other side in the shot below.

Next to the garden is the Walker Art Center, which is a fantastic contemporary art museum with free admission on Thursdays. I arrived a little early for the free entry, but lucky for me, they had a beautifully done, full-stocked bar near the entrance, so I had a drink while I waited for the free art.

The tree below is entirely filled with wind chimes.

The city seems to be thoughtfully planned, and smaller green spaces are tucked in among office buildings and large-scale developments like Target Field, where the Twins play.

Given the reality of those long, cold winters, it comes as no surprise that the Minnesotans can make some beer. I found this guide before I went, and stopped by Fulton Beer (yum) after the sculpture garden. Lakes and Legends was near the hotel hosting my conference, so I popped in there as well. They have a decent IPA, an open, modern look, and you can bring your dog. I always think that’s the mark of a good spot.

I never can get enough of all the textures and patterns that come out of fitting a bunch of large, mirrored buildings into a tight space.

On my last day there, I walked to the Stone Arch Bridge, which is the only such bridge on the entire Mississippi River. It’s now exclusively used by pedestrians and cyclists, and the surrounding area is beautiful. The whole city reminds me a bit of Toronto and Montreal, but especially this section—the Gold Medal Flour sign echoes Montreal’s Farine Five Roses.

According to a new study, beautiful cities may have an economic advantage, which I see as just one more reason to design and improve with aesthetics and quality of life in mind (while being careful to make provisions for people displaced by gentrification).

I couldn’t find the path down to this green space, but what a nice way to escape the city for a bit.

I only had a few hours to get out and about with my camera, and I know there is much more to explore. I think any place that can make you consider living where -60 is a thing deserves a second visit, albeit carefully planned in the Springtime.

Opening Day for Trails

April 13th is opening day for trails across the country. This means communities all over have events to celebrate the rail trail that runs through their town. I was recruited to this particular event in Salem, WV for a specific purpose: to help assess the interaction between the town and the trail.

We scoped out the trail conditions and found some major problems just outside of town. Water runs in ditches on either side of the trail bed, which is now much lower than when the railroad ran trains on it. When the railroad pulled out, the company tried to make as much as it could from all the components that once made up the tracks. Railroad ties, steel rails, and even the ballast that supported them were sold off in truckloads.

The lack of drainage creates some serious issues for the trail surface. It was swampy with mud and completely impassible in places. The water has created a path of least resistance, at times directly bisecting the trail.

We also saw quite a few unnatural “waterfalls” along the way, such as the pipe above that spews soapy water into the trailside ditch. We stopped when it became clear conditions weren’t going to improve, but not before seeing this collection of barking dogs. They remain fairly intimidating despite the chains that tie them to their individual houses.

Someone bought the house below to open a trailside store, but it never materialized.

The bright spot in town is the Dairy Queen, which also happens to be the site of my very first job. That’s right. At age 16 I learned to make a kickass Blizzard and a cone with a perfect curly cue on top, all while wearing a monogramed visor. My childhood babysitter, who we called Zippie, managed the store when I was in high school. It was the cleanest fast food restaurant you’ve ever seen in your life. On slow nights, she’d put me to work scrubbing the bathroom walls. I believe she owns the place now, and she still runs a tight ship.

They have nice new picnic tables outside, some open air and some under a covered patio, as well as a bike rack and a place to tether your horses. The onion rings are still delicious.

This beautiful house sits on Main Street, which is largely boarded up and closed now.

There were a few nice touches, such as this little courtyard surrounded by daffodils. and a quaint little bridge to access the trail from the sidewalk on Main. But otherwise, the downtown is largely boarded up and closed.

For such a tiny town, I could not believe how many kids on bikes showed up to participate in the bike rodeo.

The best part was, the “rodeo” was a simple course laid out with a sack of flour and some orange cones. The kids had these determined little looks on their faces as they threaded their way through the course.

We rode east out of town all the way to this tunnel, which is not in good shape. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, and the ground was muddy and filled with puddles. We decided millions would be needed to fix all the issues there. Can you imagine? For just one tunnel. But the goal that the Rails-to-Trails Conservancy is working on right now is connecting the trail from Parkersburg, WV to Pittsburgh, PA. And to do that, not only will they need to acquire additional property to bridge the existing gaps, but they’ll have to address these infrastructure issues as well. It’s a big job.

It was pretty inspiring to meet all these people who drove several hours to support this effort in a community that isn’t even theirs. I tend to think it really meant something to all those determined little cyclists.

Tucson, Part 2

I visited Brian and Susan for the first time in 2005, when I lived in Oregon and they hosted a family gathering. I fell in love with their house then and couldn't wait to come back this time with my camera. These two creatives are so inspiring. I guess that’s what happens when an architect and an artist come together. But also, this landscape. Can you imagine waking up to these mountains every day?

It starts with the handmade purple cactus screen door. And then the gardens. They’re all around the house, and each one is its own beautiful vignette. Everywhere you look, there’s something amazing to discover—both inside and out. Brian designed and constructed must of the structures, including the fence and gate above.

Two standout favorites in the back yard: the old truck above, which Brian took from Susan’s brother Charlie’s ranch and repurposed as a giant funky grill cover, and the striking bright pink wall with the purple cactus cut-out gate below.

I remember Susan telling me years ago about how her mother had arranged groups of plants in pots every year on their patio. She’s carrying on the tradition, and man, is she doing it well.

I learned a lot about the family on this trip. Susan’s mother Mary Jo moved to Tucson in her early twenties because she was told it was good for asthma. Mary Jo’s Aunt Emmy (my Dad’s great-aunt) also relocated from New England to Tucson and opened a gift shop downtown. Both Mary Jo and Aunt Emmy had artistic taste and a good eye—I still have beautiful bits of silk and lace that Emmy gave my mom years ago. It’s very comforting to know that all these strong, artistic, adventurous women are in my genes.

And what better place to move than one filled with natural beauty and amazing art? We happened upon these beautiful Mexican painted animals when we visited Tohono Chul, a botanical garden and gallery where Susan had a painting on display.

And I went crazy over the cacti. Naturally.

We took a short jaunt downtown to historic Fourth Avenue on our last day there. I found this amazing courtyard of repurposed shipping containers selling food and drink. It’s called The Boxyard and appears to be a sort of semi-permanent food truck situation. Doesn’t this seem like something we should recreate here in West Virginia?!?

Public art is clearly a priority in Tucson. They’ve even worked it into their bus stops. That sort of dedication really sets a tone.

On our last night, we got to have dinner with Dad’s cousin Charlie and his partner Connie on their ranch.

The skies are big and wide there, and both the stars and the company were fantastic.

I told Dad he and Charlie look like east and west coast twinsies. Not only were they both wearing tucked-in plaid shirts and work boots, but also identical Carhart jeans. Whoa.

I get it now, why people go to the desert seeking clarity. I came back from this trip having found some, and some artistic inspiration to boot.

Tucson, Part 1: Sometimes, you just need to go to the desert.

I took the boy on his first trip out west a few weeks ago. My dad and stepmom have taken to RVing down South through the winters, and so we met them in Tucson. Not only does Tucson have the obvious appeal of cacti and mountains, but Dad’s cousin Susan and her husband Brian live there. Which means we got to visit with some of my favorite family members and explore the desert while snowmelt filled the streams and the flowers were in bloom.

The first day we went to the Arizona-Senora Desert Museum. That place was amazing and so well done. It’s a huge maze of pathways that connect multiple botanical gardens and desert animals in natural settings. So many different types of cacti.

Dad wanted to know what I was going to do with all those pictures. At least two blog posts, Dad.

Just two miles from the museum is Saguaro National Park West.

Twice in the last few years I’ve had the feeling that I was exactly where I should be. (Both times I was out west next to some serious mountains. Coincidence?) Hiking through Saguaro National Park was one of those times. I asked Coban if this was the best thing he’d ever done in his whole life, and he agreed that it was.

The next day we headed out of town for a zipline adventure. My second cousin, Emily, who I met for the first time on this trip, is part owner of Arizona Zipline Adventures. She and her partner have created an amazing space with bunkhouses for people to stay in, a communal space for meals and gatherings, and of course, a zipline course that gives amazing views of the mountains and surrounding ranch land.

There’s even a place outside to mine for gold.

Right up the road is the historic 3 C Ranch, which Emily’s family has restored to include guest houses and event space. There was so much color and texture and beauty out there that I couldn’t fit it all in one post. Stay tuned for Tucson Part 2.

A Slice for Thanksgiving

I drove to NYC last week with Coban to meet our lovely friends for a destination Thanksgiving.

You know it’s a cold one when this child is willing to don a scarf. (The next day he snuck back to the hotel room before we left to remove his fleece and leave his gloves behind, perhaps because the long underwear from the parade day had made him sweat. This happens when you run everywhere at full speed.)

The Thanksgiving Day Parade was cold, but quite an experience. My cold-blooded friend brought hand warmers, which we stuffed into our boots, and those and the fleece tights under my jeans kept me feeling fine.

The floats are just huge, but we could barely see the street where they walked. And yet, being there with other people from all over was such a nice bonding experience. It’s not that we made friends and shared blankets, but I felt a certain positive energy from waiting in the same space for an event that everyone agrees is kind of awesome and worth freezing your pants off for a few hours.

I just love the textures of the city. So many designs interplaying every where you look.

I also loved how our kids made their own fun no matter where we were, running and jumping and moving quickly under pipes and railings.

My child jumped up and down with excitement when he saw the first fast-moving subway, but then a few trips later he decided it was old hat. I find both of these positions entertaining. He may make a good traveling companion.

These colors. Imagine this for a quilt pallet. Or a hand-woven rug. Yum.

The new World Trade Center is nicely designed.

And the monuments and the nearby tour guides made me cry.

But I thought it was worth the wait to get to the 360 view at the top.

This was the site of a mini-meltdown, so someone was pouting as he took in the views.

But what can a bagel and lox not fix? Not much. After that, we jumped on the Staten Island Ferry.

I didn’t get a picture of the guys behind the counter at Ray’s Pizza, who grumbled at me when I asked what something was, but I have a nice mental picture of how good it felt to sit drinking a beer and eating a slice on Thanksgiving with old friends while our kids listed things they were thankful for, which of course included pizza and Minecraft.

But hey, we were all really thankful.

Damn Good Junk

I took the back roads to Davis last weekend, and so many things along the way begged to be photographed. But often the roads are narrow or someone’s house is right next to the thing I want to capture, and I didn’t want to stop. Lucky for me, this amazing junk shop had a pull off directly across the road. Who can resist a man in a roof canoe peddling Damn Good Junk? Not me.

I also liked the look of these gas pumps, leftover from another time but still regally standing guard over the toilet on the porch just behind.

I have a very poor memory for routes, but I realized as I wound my way down old Route 50 through turns so tight you almost feel dizzy in the driver’s seat, that I’d driven that road many times before. Just beyond those tightest of turns is Cool Springs, which is the most entertaining (and long-standing) of destinations. My mom used to stop there every year on her way to Ocean City, Maryland, and the windy roads never failed to make her sick.

Hot dogs, milk shakes, fresh produce, and a coonskin cap are all available for a price in the store that still has an old school lunch counter, and so much more. The walls are lined with taxidermy, and local handmade soaps and jewelry are mixed in with the most amazing collection of kitsch and the tackiest of West Virginia paraphernalia. It’s a real treat for the eyes. The shake was pretty good too.

The grounds include these stone figurines, an array of barnyard animals, and an impressive collection of tractors and train parts that has clearly taken years to assemble.

The closer you get to the mountains, the more beautiful the landscape. I’ve never managed to get a satisfactory photo, but I get excited every single time I come across the giant row of windmills on Backbone Mountain. They’re just so huge and dramatic.

My ultimate destination was the Billy Motel, where I’ve wanted to stay for years. I must say, I was not disappointed.

When I walked into the office/bar to check in, a man in the corner said to his friends around the fireplace, “Well, shall we bash Trump some more?” And I knew I was in the right place.

The rooms have a fresh, modern look, and the tile in the bathrooms is clearly old but revitalized (through lots of elbow grease I learned). On the rough-hewn wooden shelf were two drink tokens to use at the bar, and beside the bed was a collection of stories by Breece D’J Pancake. I love this attention to detail.

Not only is the bar full service and the bartender a friendly source of local knowledge, but the room is filled with midcentury modern gems.

Outside is a quaint little courtyard with a buddha in the corner. Naturally.

Everything was just so well done. AND, it’s in West Virginia. It’s no wonder the New York Times has taken notice.

We drove a short distance to downtown Davis for dinner at Sirianni’s and then danced to the music of a very fun and energetic band called Qiet at the Purple Fiddle.

The next morning I stopped on my way to breakfast at Tip Top to photograph this amazing mural created by Nellie Rose, a local textile artist, who I met for the first time on the dance floor at the Fiddle the night before. She was sweet and friendly, and I couldn’t help but tell her in what I hope was not too much of a fan voice: “I follow you on Instagram!”

Seriously, friends. Thomas and Davis: They’ve got a good thing going right now, and you should totally check it out.

The End of Summer

Sometimes you have to make art out of dead flowers. And then throw a dinner party using your grandmother’s china. That leads to a gathering of friends, memories of both grandmothers, and a discussion about Emily Post.

And then things feel just a little bit better.

A Genuine West Virginian

Today I visited two sites where construction is underway to address water quality and other issues on old mining properties that companies abandoned before conducting the required clean-up. When that happens, the Department of Environmental Protection takes over and uses the bond money the company posted when it obtained its mining permit to reclaim the site. 

This site is in a "town" called Century, which, although it has a Main Street and a few others, appears to be just a handful of houses clustered together in a remote area without cell service, quite close to what used to be a fully functional coal mine. The trailer above sits just opposite the entrance to the site, which is unmarked except for a single metal gate near the entrance. Some say it was the largest mine in the state, but I learned today that some say that about nearly every mine in West Virginia, so I'm pretty sure that's not true.

Walk a few hundred feet past the entrance, and telltale signs reveal themselves. Part of the old mine shaft remains visible, though it is caved in and impassable, and the dirt the workers have disturbed bears the unmistakeable shade of acid mine drainage. 

I met some engineers at the site, and we stood around the truck and looked at the site plans before taking a tour to inspect the progress.

The machine the mining company used to dredge this pond during operations still sits beside it. Over the last few weeks, workers have drained the pond as much as they can. Next, they will dig out the remaining water and acidic sludge and move it to another location to allow it to dry out and harden to the texture of regular dirt. The pond, once cleaned, will then be used for stormwater runoff.

The color is shocking in person and makes me think I'm in the middle of Yellowstone. But of course, I am not.

Truckers bring huge loads of rock and spread it in a drainage ditch to catch the water seeping from the site and channel it to the preferred location so it can't get into a creek.

I'm strangely comfortable standing outside around a truck, the only girl amongst a crowd of men in boots. Their outfits remind me of my dad. I grew up inspecting logging roads and sitting on tailgates, and so this all feels very familiar.

This "wetland" exists, I learned, as a result of the mining company's use of the land. Had they not been there, water would never have pooled in this way, and we would not see cattails in a random spot at the top of a hill, waving silently as frogs hop in and out of orange water.  

Coal companies came and extracted a resource, bringing jobs in the process. They left a mess for someone else to clean up, and now people here have jobs simply because those companies did not fulfill their obligations. This "extract and run" strategy has left its mark in more ways than one. I believe it has shaped the way people here view the land, not as something to be maintained and cared for throughout time, but as something to use and abuse, as you might an old truck.

There is sadness and irony here, yet today left me feeling more a part of this place than my normal routine allows. In this space, having grown up in Doddridge County, the daughter of a logger, makes me a part of all this. Like a genuine West Virginian. 

Austin!!!

It's surprising to me sometimes how hard it is to trust your instincts. Given the nature of the thing, you'd think it would come entirely naturally, but for me that has not been the case. Some days are easier than others. When my friend texted a couple months ago to say she and some friends had found cheap tickets to Austin, there was no thinking it over. I was in. A few weeks later, I flew out of Pittsburgh with 10 lovely WV ladies to experience a town I've been wanting to visit for years.  

Naturally, we made a beeline for Torchy's Tacos as soon as we landed, suitcases in tow. Having selected two delicious options, I got in line to order, only to discover my wallet was not in my purse. Panicked, I went back to my suitcase to look. I found it there, the result of a last minute shuffle in my rush to board the plane without paying for an extra bag (See Michele? I did it.). When I got back to the line, the cashier was holding the credit card of the guy behind me,  who had offered to buy my lunch. Welcome to Austin. 

Next up? Boot shopping and dessert.

For a girl who loves delicious food, succulents, cowboy kitch, and alt country music, you could not order up a better place.

My one regret for this trip is that I did not make it back to eat these churros a second time.

The city is sprawling, and we got to see a lot of lovely architecture and landscaping as we wondered through various neighborhoods.

Good design was absolutely everywhere. Even the dry cleaner had a beautiful storefront with an amazing sign. Art is so important to this town that they designated an entire park for graffiti. Anyone can show up with a spray can and make their mark on this multi-leveled dilapidated structure-turned art park. (Though apparently the city's Historic Landmark Commission recently voted to demolish this park, making it hard to keep pessimism at bay.) 

Next we checked out a lovely sculpture garden featuring the work of Charles Umlauf, and that evening we went to White Horse for some Texas two-steppin' and honky tonk. It was only a few years ago that I came to the realization that I do in fact love country music, so long as it's the RIGHT kind. I don't know what it is about honky tonk, but we get each other. No pictures from that venue because we were busy dancing.

The next day we were moving a little slower, and so we meandered through an amazing botanical garden complete with a Japanese koi pond and a designated succulent section.

Sunday afternoon we made our way to Jo's for--wait for it--Sinner's Brunch. Just the name makes me happy. 

There we celebrated Liz's birthday with her family and some awesome live music.

And then? On to chicken shit bingo at Little Longhorn Saloon of course. Real chickens. Real shit.

The scene was in the parking lot. I took advantage of the moment to practice my portraits.

Not only did we experience some authentically Austin bingo, but our girl Sarah won $114! 

After we soaked up Sarah's winnings and the good music there, we made our way to the Skylark Lounge for some blues. Three standout events at that place. 1) The music was amazing; 2) I met a man named Cornelius Rumblejunk (I checked his license and friended him on facebook to make sure this was real. It appears to be.); and 3) Out back was a fire pit and Frito pie. We heard there was gumbo, but it turns out there was also this other amazing, very Texan offering on tap. Oh, yes. Not gonna lie. THAT was some delicious junk food. 

The last day we had brunch at South Congress Cafe, outside of which was this quintessential Austin scene. 

And I haven't even mentioned the run I did in a nature preserve with a coyote warning, which was tucked in amongst residential neighborhoods just blocks away from our air B&B, OR the speakeasy we had to have a numeric code to enter, featuring swings as bar seats and babydoll head lights...

Needless to say, I love Austin.

A Dolly Sods Adventure

Dolly Sods has long been my favorite spot in West Virginia, but even so, this fall was my first time camping at Red Creek. The guys made the great sacrifice of driving out early Friday morning to snag our spots, securing themselves a little kid-free beer drinking time and allowing the rest of us to swoop in after dark and avoid the task of camp setup. Win-win.

There's something about seeing a tundra-like landscape where you don't expect it. It's surprising and beautiful and such a lovely respite. I need these times of seeing our state only for the beauty it has to offer and not for the heart-wrenching sadness that often pervades.

After the soft morning light came these clouds hanging low over the Allegheny Front under a crisp blue sky. Nothing short of exhilarating.

As only kids can, these guys had the most fun at Bear Rocks playing in the little ephemeral puddles that had formed in the many rock craters.

We only managed a few short hikes with seven rascals in tow, but the rest of the time they ran non-stop, making their own forest adventures and leaving us to relax in a way you can only achieve when you're outside with good friends, no cell service, and nothing to do but drink beer and enjoy each other's company.

This is the pre-sunrise shot from Sunday morning, which I got because I could not deny the child who said from outside our tent, "Mom, are you going to miss the day break again?" No. No I am not. And I'm so thankful I got to sit out on the rocks in the blowing wind with that little boy, waiting for the sun.