A (last-minute) Visit to The Artist Baker

I found myself near Morristown recently and dropped in on my friend Andrea Lekberg at her establishment The Artist Baker.  I always enjoy visiting Andrea and the chance to savor her culinary offerings is a treat! And there, packaged for sale, were my most recent kitchen towels designs for her shop.

I like seeing my work in the market place and it took me back to the years of seeing my images on HUE's packaging in hosiery departments all over the map. Another reminder that you never know where life will take you next.

A Gentleman Caller in Sleepy Hollow

Coming home from dropping my son off at school, I saw a visitor perched on the sill as I approached the house.  Sitting at the door as if seeking to gain entry, a toad sat patiently. I was pleasantly reminded that in order to find a prince you have to kiss your share of toads. Wishing luck for all in their search for love.

The semiotics of suburbia

 

I found this image in my files that I took many years ago when I returned home to live in Cleveland Heights after college. Funny how the station wagon parked in the driveway was such a powerful symbol for me. At the time it epitomized all that I craved, home, family and connectivity. I was completely naive about the dilemmas many face in their nuclear world, where people don't understand each other, mom and dad no longer get along, and the kids are adrift with the urgency of achievement in a hothouse of unexpressed frustrations. Still, we live in a surface culture of appearances- and as long as everything looks good- isn't that all that counts?

As changes loom ahead, I am forced to face the pain held within the confines of my childhood. We all have buried losses and disappointments of our earlier years and I understand now my need to create poignant images even then as a way to circumvent and diminish the pain of what cannot be easily resolved.

A Cultural Excursion w/Ellen

I saw the Issac Mizrahi show at the Jewish Museum on Saturday and it was divine. I'm a huge admirer.

There was also a fascinating exhibit of the work of Roberto Burle Marx and an installation on the ground floor by  Beatriz Milhazes which made the museum's lobby appear like a celebration.

 (And then we saw the film "Maggie's Plan". Highly recommend. A cute twist on a woman who finds herself having a child on her own.)

Shovels to the Ground

Yesterday they broke ground for Edge on Hudson, the new development on the former General Motors site in Sleepy Hollow. It's been dormant for almost 20 years (to the day) and the question of its next incarnation has been the subject of much speculation among us, worried that our property basis would never be robust enough to keep our taxes from continuing on a skyward trajectory.

The property changed hands December 2014 during my term on the Board of Trustees so I am well versed in the plans of the new owners. Yet the Village has been awaiting the stirrings of actual construction while enduring meetings, experts and reports followed by motions to the Town (unbeknownst to the Village) inciting mild accusations flung in one direction with protests of good intentions only returned.

The distinguished notables assembled on camera to create this symbolic moment. Here's hoping that what is to come will succeed on more levels than anyone thought possible.

(and yes- five white men in suits.)

New York City Spring

Uptown version.

Adorning the Nest

I've been on the go and neglecting my to-do list so a trip to a favorite nursery with my friend Liza spurred me to purchase some annuals for the upstairs window boxes. This time of year errand running beckons to freshen things anew. Nothing like the return of better weather.
(and I love double impatiens)

Motherhood (4 Me)

For years I had an urgency to be a parent. I was busy and productive and living on my own, in and out of relationships maintaining my independence pretty well. But when my friends began to sport offspring I felt a tormented desire to feel the flesh of my flesh, nestled in my lap and leaving their cookie crumbs all over me while prattling on. It's true that I rarely imagined my progeny as teenagers, but more the fleeting interval of childhood that required my fierce engagement.

We're over that hurdle alas, my kids see me to the varying degrees to which they require, which can be remarkably minimal these days given their respective young adult ages. All as it should be, and most of the time I'm good with that. There's other needs that occupy me and I have plenty of interests above my acute interest in my offspring.

I'm a motherless mother having lost my mom over 20 years ago. On this day I thank her in my thoughts and wonder what she would have made of everything that happened. Perhaps she's seen some of it from some place beyond and is secretly pleased with a decent measure of wincing thrown in. I'm glad motherhood found me and opportunity knocked. It's presented a level of connection that I didn't know existed and made me, I hope, a better person.

The Pink of Spring

At some point in the season, the neighborhood cherry tree's blossoms descend, blanketing beds and yards with silky petals and installing a temporary sea of pastel color. Yesterday's rain flattened their delicate presence and rusted their hues. Always glad to have committed these moments to memory before time and events effect their change.