Now?

Every summer I think to myself, "Maybe I'll get my blog going again", and ever summer I write (and do not publish) exactly one unfinished post.  Maybe this will be the year...

...and maybe it won't.  Let's find out.

americana

 

Is there anything better than a hometown parade?  Not if you ask me.  

My home town of Niskayuna, New York celebrates its founding every year in the quintessential style of small town America. A throw-back, someone with want for nostalgia might say.

Yes, I speak of Niska-Day. Barbecues, neighbors, block parties, potato salad, water balloons, radios, pie. The smell of hot mud in the sun, craft vendors, filtered light through white circus tents.  Goldfish in plastic bags.  Highschoolers in polyester tuxedos on a flat-bed stage singing show tunes (I was one).  Grade-school art, matted, on display.  Fireworks, sparklers. Family.  Home. Children on the verge of catch a glimpse of freedom, community comes together, wanderers are drawn back.

All this magic ushers in summer each May,  but stays with me all season long.

introductions are in order

Asa Edward was born on April 3, 2012.

Welcome, baby boy!

where we started

Chad and I both come from the North.  Nowhere rustic or off the beaten path, but with easy access to the great outdoors and opportunity to explore wilderness.  This is something our new little addition will not be privileged with (at least not as first), so we decide to bring a touch of yonder to him in Brooklyn by creating in his nursery a woodland retreat to inspire his imagination.

Still, we likely will not always live here, and with that in mind, I couldn't help to snatch up one of Lena Corwin's beautiful prints of our current home.  When Little is big and lives far away from his origins, he will be able to look back at this symbol of where we started.

my 2 dads

In our on-going series of nesting projects in preparation for baby, we decided to clear up some space in the living room/dining room/kitchen by eliminating the dining table (!) and replacing it with a kitchen island.  In my search for counter stools to accompany it, I came across these beauts...

...and Chad found these...

...which reminded us a bit of this:

Chad's father, Dane, is a very talented carpenter and furniture builder, yet in our home, we had nothing that he has made.  Also, my father, David, a retired teacher and amateur historian, has experience with the traditional shaker craft of chair taping.  And so, and idea was born...

 

Photos of the finished product to follow shortly :)

snow day

I took my large self for a walk today and thought about this time last year, and this time next year, and what a wonderful time I am in now; this whole wide world laid out before me.

raw/cooked

 

Kristof Wickman's exhibit closes this week on November 27.  
He is the first artist featured in the Raw/Cooked series at the Brooklyn Museum.

changing of the guard

 

 

 Seasons in transition

five

Five years ago I made my best decision so far.  Although we celebrated in no grand style, we spent time together in ways that are meaningful to us, and the life we've built together.  Chad, I'd do it again and again.  With every breath, I'd do it again.

My dear one surprised me with a most lovely gift made of the token symbol of this particular anniversary: wood.  This necklace was made by a local artist who resides in Carrol Gardens, and was acquired at Feliz, a gem of a shop in Clinton Hill (I must ask Genevieve what exactly makes her space smell so amazing!)  I think it looks especially nice paired with this ring by Brooklyn-based jeweler Blanca Monros Gomez.  It makes me feel stylish and pretty and well loved.   <3

collographs

Last week, Fionnuala sent us home with a 1-gallon Ziplock bag.  Inside: the stuff dreams are made of.

Our assignments was to create a collograph in preparation for our second makers' gathering to be held during the brunch hour at her house on Saturday, where we'd be experimenting with the art of printmaking.  After struggling with my typical desires to have everything "just so", I finally surrendered to the process and came up with something I was quite happy with.

 

After a brief tutorial on the printing press, we set to work mixing color and inking our plates.  

*Apologies for the dark photos--I'd temporarily misplaced my camera battery charger and was using an unfamiliar substitute :)

jammin'

photo: Hana Pockat

photo: Hana Pockat

A few weeks ago I hosted a lovely group of friends for tea party and instructional meeting, during which we made and canned homemade jam from the berries we'd picked and frozen (with this purpose in mind) earlier in the season.  

As the weather turns cool, our outdoor excursions together may likely be replaced by what we hope to develop into a series of gatherings that aim to share with each other our varied talents in the fine and domestic arts.  

Next up: printmaking with Fionnuala.

Irene

Chad, suited up in stylish Icelandic rain gear.

After arriving back home on the last Amtrak train to New York on Saturday, I was greeted by the cheery, although somewhat frenzied scene of our weekly farmer's market at Fort Greene Park. Young families shopping for produce offered me a special kind of reassurance that I hadn't lost my mind by rushing back before the storm.  Chad and I finished stocking up and headed home to make our final preparations.


And then, we waited. 


It began to rain steadily late in the afternoon, but even as we made our way toward sleep for the night, the wind still hadn't picked up much.  We learned that our windows, kept perpetually open in the warmer months, are actually quite effective by way of noise reduction, as we slept right through the "howling" wind reported by others in the area.  Chad got up twice to check things out, but we slept quite well and woke early to survey the results of Irene: (from our window) lots of small debris, soggy ground.

Later in the day, as it became clear that the storm had passed, we decided to explore the neighborhood.
The streets were littered with leaves and twigs punctuated by the occasional downed branch and even a couple of small trees, which always makes me sad.  Playgrounds were under a few inches of water, and windows were taped*.  We made our way to Fort Greene Park to survey any arboreal damage there, and found the most interesting storm relic by far.  The hollowed out limb of a very large tree near the southeast entrance of the park made for a nice little hive for a colony of honeybees.  It turns out, however, that it was also left so weakened as not to survive Irene's high winds.  The hive was split in two, it would seem, with the majority of the colony protecting the queen high in the remnants of their home.  We're concerned for those poor little guys and curious as to where they will go next and how they will get there.   I feel sure that my bee keeping friend Gabrielle could capture them, but I do believe her hives are full.

 How did you weather the storm?  Hopefully safely.

*Listening to the play-by-play on WNYC, we laughed as one expert taught us that taping windows is actually entirely ineffective, stating: "the only thing that taping your windows on Saturday will ensure is that you'll spend the better part of Sunday scraping it off again".  Cute.

Maine

Bexx was a beautiful bride!