Sketch - Key West

Found this sketch while I was looking through some things today. Painted on the Casa Marina beach in Key West, FL.

temptation

 We had a wet week in Maine last September, though we didn't let that stop us from hiking. We enjoyed the sunny breaks and cloudy views. Sometimes I think Maine is best viewed cloudy. All that rain brought out a slew of fungi. All the following photos are from one hike, and there were more fungi not fotografed. I was VERY TEMPTED to forage, but seeing as it was a national park and they would probably not have survived the car trip, I resisted. It was DIFFICULT. I mean, look at that FIELD of Black Trumpets. ARGH.

Note: I only *really* know chanterelles and black trumpets and hesitate to forage for anything else, even if I am relatively sure of an identification. If anyone knows the identities of the other fungi pictured above, let me know!

spring in Italy

It has been a busy past few weeks. Between going to Italy, perpetual wedding planning (when will it eeeennnnddd? Oh yeah... that's right...), and a studio project which has as its theme saving the world*, it has been hard to find the time to post a few words. I am only "finding time" right now because I am procrastinating, or in denial parlance, "taking a leisurely hour for lunch."
*only partly joking

So, in the midst of all this chicken-running-sans-head stress, a quiet moment of contemplation:

  These anemones were blooming in and around the ruins of the Villa of Pollio Felix, in Sorrento. One of the most beautiful spots on earth. It also includes this lagoon of sapphire-blue water.

There is another way in, aside from the wooden staircase seen above.

 I was in Italy with my professor from last semester Kathryn Gleason, and classmate Bryan Harrison, to present work from last semester's studio class to community leaders and other participants of the conference last fall who had returned for this mini-conference. It went pretty well, though some things didn't go exactly as planned. This studio project is going to have a longer life than I anticipated, as the professors involved see a publication in the future, for which I have been asked to do some writing. It's good to stay in touch with this project, not only because I want some of the improvements we designed to be built in Castellammare di Stabia, but also because I intend to go back to the place pictured above, someday. If anyone is going to the Sorrento area anytime soon, ask me for directions. It's hidden off the usual tourist path, but totally worth the trek.

Doors of Rome

Philadelphia Flower Show 2011

Let the kitsch-fest begin! A replica of one arch of the Eiffel Tower, at shrunken scale, looms ahead as you enter the show, surrounded by pink blooming cherry trees and tulips.

I am a sucker for flower shows. I love the combination of theatrical kitsch and delicate plants. I love the marvel of forcing all those plants on time, and then keeping them going indoors for two weeks (not to mention transporting them). Yes, it is probably a huge energy suck. Yes, not all of the plants make it to good homes afterwards. But it is a heaping dose of spring at a time of year when it seems to many as if spring is still far away (at least for Ithacans).

spring tease

It really is terribly ironic:  I drove south to Philadelphia hoping to find more springlike weather, and I found that in spades. What happens in Ithaca while I am gone? It snows, also in spades (shovel-fulls, to be precise). A foot and a half of heavy snow. Ugh. I should post a snow photo, to contrast with the spring-flower-filled photos below, but I don't want to give the snow any more publicity. Snow now completely covers the windows of my basement room, blocking out all but a thin, blue light. I want to flee again.

I am way too tired this evening to post anything more exciting, but I'll give you some eye candy.

They just look like they're singing, don't they? Since I recently posted some (comparatively thin and sad-looking) crocus photos, here is something different (not yet blooming in Ithaca, not for another month).

Winter aconite. I always forget the name of this flower, for some reason. Very sweet, with its little ruff of leaves.

photo credit: Kelly Shipman

Kelly snapped a photo of me taking a photo of the winter aconite. A characteristic pose, for me.

Souvenirs from the flower show, now decorating the bulletin board above my desk. I do not yet have a garden of my own (tragedy), so the seeds are for my parents. Other bulletin board accessories include a photo with friends from Senior Ball circa 2004, and the label of a mineral water from the town in Italy where I am returning at the beginning of April.
It was a wonderful weekend, all in all, and despite the snowy welcoming, I do feel invigorated, or I will right after I... zzzzz... snor... zzzz... wha... oh yes, hi. On Saturday, Kelly, Alice, and I roamed around Mt. Airy (me in cotton blouse and light jacket!), making highly satisfactory visits to the Trolley Car Diner (most impressive beer selection of any diner I've ever seen, wow), a yarn store, and a used-book shop, chronologically. I picked up some spicy red sock yarn and a lovely hardcover edition of The Annotated Alice in Wonderland, to replace my battered and coverless paperback version.
Last night in Philly it rained, hard, and the sound of the rain on the windows of Kelly's apartment made me feel cozy as we talked late into the night over mugs of tea. I am lucky to have such beautiful, intelligent friends and relations!

blue memory

*Sigh*    No current flowers today, as it is much more wintry outside, with a stiff wind all day. Back to the memory files. This Campanula was growing wild along a rail-turned-trail in the 16th arrondissement of Paris, near the Bois de Boulogne, last summer. Mike and I had a wonderful picnic later that day, while watching a coot family build their nest.

last September, Ravello

In September 2010, I had the good fortune to go to Italy. The trip was academic in nature: my studio class was studying the site of an archeological park in Castellammare di Stabia on the Bay of Naples, a site centering on two villas that were part of the Roman town of Stabiae. We stayed at the Restoring Ancient Stabiae Institute, a former seminary with views of Mt. Vesuvius. During the day, we did field work, went to lectures, and ate long lunches. Occasionally, we were treated to outings by bus to see local attractions, usually after we had completed a cycle of staying up all night drinking Italian wine working and then formally presenting our designs, and were thus somewhat loopy.

poppy, Château d'Acquigny

Very full weekend, excuse the lack of posting recently. Last Friday-Saturday were spent riding the rails of New York state, for a studio project. Sunday was greenhouse work. Mondays are just crazy-busy for me. Man, I love teaching, but it is exhausting!

I'm working on some watercolors to post here, but (bien sûr) with all that's been going on its been really hard to find a non-exhausted moment when I can paint. I'm always stealing time from something else to have a wee moment of pause. Like now, I am supposed to be in class... A tout à l'heure!

tiger lily, Parc André Citroën, Paris

Isn't this orange color just magnificent? This lily was glowing in one of the modernist bosquets of the Parc André Citroën, a wonderfully geometrical park in the XVe arrondissement in Paris.The park was designed by a group of architects and architectes-paysagistes (landscape architects) in the 1990s. While we were there last summer, there was a weather balloon mounted in the center of the park (is it still there? a semi-permanent fixture?). Square screens on four sides of the balloon changed color to indicate air quality (red=bad quality, green=good quality). The immense balloon was tethered to the ground with cables, and visitors could ride in its basket for an incredible view of Paris and of the park. I had never been in a balloon before, and the idea of a balloon view of Paris seemed too perfect to pass up. After a moment of extreme vertigo as we climbed higher and higher, and the basket swayed queasily, I steadied myself and snapped as many photos as I could manage (double click on images for larger views).

 

In the second photo of the three above, you can see the Tour Montparnasse off in the distance.  As you can see in the photo immediately above, there were ugly construction gates set up throughout the park, as the water system was being refurbished. Some of the water features were not functioning, but I am sure the work is completed now (if anyone reading this is heading off to Paris soon and wants to visit a really neat park, and if so I am envious). At the "head" of the park are two large glasshouses housing strange tropical plants, complete with informational placards. Several other, smaller glasshouses are placed near the bosquets (you can just barely make them out in the middle photo). Despite the construction work, many people were using the park, including a full-blown birthday party going on in one of the bosquets, and these adorable kids kicking a soggy football through the fountain between the two big glasshouses. 

Rose, Parc et Jardin d'Acquigny, France

The Parc et Jardin du Château Acquigny has some beautiful roses, of the old, fragrant, billowy variety. My fiancé and I visited here the day after he proposed this past summer. The family to whom Château Acquigny belongs are friends of mine, ever since I stayed with them for two weeks in 2004, during a horticulture internship. It was romantic and nostalgic to visit again, as this was one of those places I knew I wanted to take Mike to, but never really thought it would happen. Aside from roses, a very pretty orangerie, and peaceful pastoral scenery, the park also includes some enormous, amazing trees, including two Sequoias and some immense London Plane Trees. If you ever find yourself in Paris and wanting to take a day trip, Acquigny is 45 minutes from Gare St. Lazare, though when you get there you'll need to take a bus into Louviers or call a taxi, though Acquigny is close enough to Louviers that you could bike the rest of the way. The d'Esnevals are really lovely people and may show you around in person. They have recently converted a graceful old carriage house into a gallery space, and frequently hold art events and concerts. Parc et Jardins d'Acquigny

Cherry Blossoms, Kelvingrove Park, Glasgow, Scotland

Geez, way to drop the ball already, Liz. That's okay, I know you understand. Maybe I should change the name of this posting event to "flower-every-day-I-can-manage-to-post." Nah, too long.

spring sprung for sure, bringing news with it...

The very tall cherry tree in the Bradbury's backyard is set off nicely by the Norway spruce behind it. Right now it is shedding a snow of petals all over.

Deadlines loom. There are Great Expectations and very little time. If there weren't beautiful things like this cherry tree around, I think I'd go nuts.

By the way, it seems likely that I will be in France this summer. I've been accepted to an internship at the Potager du Roi (King's Kitchen Garden) at Versailles. The National Landscape Architecture School of France (École Nationale Supérieure du Paysage) is located at Versailles and manages the Potager du Roi. The other intern (also a Cornell LA grad student) and I will be sharing a studio apartment in Versailles.

I am hoping to have some time this summer to work on personal landscape design projects, such as my parent's woodland property in New Hampshire. It all depends on the dates of the internship, which I am expecting to hear... well, yesterday... but am trying not to be the impatient American. I am reminded of when Mike and I spent some time in Tennessee and I had a small amount of culture shock at the slower pace of southern living ("Why is she taking so long to make your espresso?" "Relax... they have a slower pace of life down here, and we're not in a hurry.") It was true, not just a stereotype! I suspect there is a similar spirit, a certain anti-hectic attitude, in France. I think of Peter Mayle's repairmen (see A Year in Provence) and their flexible attitude towards scheduling... So I am trying not to think about the price of airline tickets going up, and trust that they will respond to my emails soon.

Just three more intense weeks, and then I'll be able to breathe a bit more easily. Meanwhile I am trying to soak up spring as much as possible from the window and while biking home late at night, hearing the sound of cheeping peepers and smelling wafts of crabapple blossom along the dark road.

is that you, spring?

This past week we've seen glorious weather here in Ithaca, and everyone got a bit giddy as a result. I walked down to Collegetown to pick up a sandwich (BLT with avocado and parsley-garlic aioli mmmmm) wearing no jacket at all! My ears did get a bit cold, but if the crocuses can show their fragile petals amid the snowmelt, my lobes can survive without a hat.
Philadelphia last weekend was every bit as enjoyable as anticipated, and did a lot to brighten my outlook. It was wonderful to see sister and cousin. Alice remarked with surprise that it was the first time us three had gotten together independently as adults, outside of family holidays. One of these days us cousins need to set off on some traveling adventures together.

The flower show was satisfying. The theme was "Passport to the World" which resulted a variety of plants from various climate zones (i.e. both temperate and tropical plants and everything in between). There were hand-sized cattleya orchids:




















Amazing bromeliads:


















And extravagant nightclubs featuring waterfalls and green walls:















I came home with two little tiny orchid babies, whom I am hoping will survive babyhood. I never thought I'd become an orchid nut, and now I catch myself whispering encouragingly to them. Haven't started playing Mozart for them yet, though, so you know I'm still this side of sanity.
Next year the Philadelphia Flower Show theme is "Springtime in Paris." I anticipate tableau involving artists, berets, baguettes, young lovers, and many Eiffel Towers. Maybe even a bateau-mouche made entirely of flowers. Who wants to go with me?
Back to real work now! Site construction awaits, always...

yellow flag

Yellow is such a springtime color. I took this photo of yellow flag iris, Iris pseudacorus, somewhere in the vicinity of Hampstead Heath, London, in spring 2003. C'mon spring, you can do it! I am anticipating with great excitement a visit to the Philadelphia Flower Show this weekend. I have fond memories of the Boston Flower Show, which my family went to frequently when I was a little girl. The smells, the colors, the strange shapes, the tableaux, were all enchanting to wee Elizabeth. I think there's something wonderful about a collective swoon over these fragile growing beauties at a dark time of year. The fact that the flowers are blooming and the leaves are flourishing only through careful forcing and precise cultivation methods somehow does nothing to diminish the magic, at least for me.
I'm also excited to see my cousin perform in 'The Countess,' in the title role at Old Academy Players in Philadelphia. And my sister is coming down as well to join the flower and theater fun! Hooray! Expect more flower images soon...

cabin fever

Reading this article on foraging made me long to be able to wander in the woods, collecting various tasty wild edibles. Oh, how I miss being able to go outside without sinking ankle-to-knee deep in slush. Piles and piles of wet snow and mud outdoors, piles and piles of "to-do" lists piling up in my brain and on my desk... this is not a fun time of year.

I have a lot of photos in a rotating slideshow on my desktop, and the photos of flowers that I've been taking over the years have really been cheering me up. Since I have a whole lot to do and still haven't been able to get those paintings from my Key West vacation up on the blog, for now I will post a few flowers per week until spring comes (this may be a while, Ithaca being Ithaca).

Here is one of my favorites. This is Anemone occidentalis or Western Pasqueflower. It was growing in the Cascades, near Mt. Rainier. Click on the photo to enlarge it, and check out the beautiful downy hairs on its outer petals.

a new creative project for the new year!

I've been saying to myself and remarking to others how I am looking forward to doing some painting and sketching during my vacation. In an effort to transform declaring into doing, I had the idea to launch a new creative project: one sketch or painting a day during my vacation to South Florida. Though I will not be able to share these with you immediately, I'll scan and upload them when I return.
Meanwhile, I am cleaning my paintbox and getting my small painting and sketching kit together.
In light of the recent terrorist activity and expected tightened security, Mike and I are attempting to fit everything we need into our carry-on luggage. I like this challenge to pack succinctly, it makes me feel self-sufficient.
If you'd like a postcard, leave a comment or email with your address.

Summer wayfaring

This has not been the best summer.

But.

I am trying to extract from it the best that can be had.

Since mid-June I have been working two jobs, at an outdoor outfitters and a garden center. This is all well and good. I am employed, I have a small amount of money, and I've been able to support myself and help Mike with his grocery bill. The trade-off has been time. Time--I mean having it--is pretty much the essence of summer to me. Summer Time is the special time when one is able to work on random indulgent projects. Not this summer. I've had to scrim and save my time, hoard it and even then there is not enough of it, for my one day off a week is spent on business-type affairs.

BUT.

There have been some good outings.
Over the 4th of July weekend, Mike and I were very unpatriotic. We ran away to Quebec and had a fine time exploring in the botanic garden, attempting to photograph monkeys in the Biodome, and hiking on Mt. Tremblant (a mountain in the Laurentian range home to a swanky ski resort, the "Vail of the East"). Then the following Friday we went to a baseball game. Herewith, some highlights:



Chung, Ellen, & Mike reflected in the windows of the Biodome











A tiny stream with a minuature dock in the Japanese garden area of the Jardin Botanique
















Toadlily














On the main roadway within the Jardin Botanique






















Roseate spoonbill


















Les Ruisseaux/The Streams, Mont Tremblant






















July 10, Red Sox v. Kansas City Royals

















Dear old Fenway.










We got frozen custard and cotton candy. It was a swell time. And our team won!

Birds and recipe (as two discrete subjects)

Just after Christmas, Mike and I flew off to Evansville, IN for a friend's wedding, and after that (thoroughly moving, delightful, enjoyable) time drove to Nashville, TN to stay with his uncle for a few days. We visited Cheekwood, an estate in the suburbs of Nashville, on a beautiful day that felt like early spring. We peeled off layers, lifted our chins to soft breezes, and greedily soaked up the sunshiny warmth. Meanwhile the mansion still displayed gigantic, gaudy Christmas trees (the child in Mike loved the tinsel and humongous ornaments, we both liked the electric train around one of the trees), and the garden was woefully bare. In the absence of lush, blanketing green, we noticed shapes, colors, and smells that we might have missed in summer. I think this effect accounts partly for why we especially liked the bamboo grove in the Japanese garden, pointed out interesting bark to each other (Mike is very tolerant/indulgent of my plant geekyness), and why we spent a while in the herb garden crushing morsels of the plants and offering them to one another to smell (okay, I picked them and offered them to Mike, while he chastised me teasingly for my casual thievery).
A side note: Mike has an amazing sense of smell, and often notices shades of scent that I miss entirely. He could be a parfumeur.
As we wandered into the last garden that day, we heard a cacophony of birdsong. Birds are such a nice surprise in winter! They are still so active and quick while everything else is dormant or sleepy. We saw a few tiny birds in the shrubs of this garden, but since we are unfamiliar with southern birds we called them all warblers. A lot of them probably were warblers, though I think I saw a house finch too (they have those twitchy tails that are almost perpendicular to their bodies, right?). As we continued wandering we learned that this garden was designed to attract birds (duh). There was even a little hut in the garden with nice illuminated informational placards.
I've often wanted to know how to identify more birds by their songs, so I tried to read "The Singing Life of Birds" by Donald Kroodsma (a visiting fellow at Cornell Lab of Ornithology). It is a well written book but does not seem to be intended for the casual reader, as it is very densely scientific (i.e. urging you to study shades of difference in sonograms to learn birdsong). Are there any learn-birdsong books that are easy to understand? I am also frustrated with books that say things like "sounds similar to eastern grosbeak, only more shrill and more frequently repeated." So I suppose I need something in between. Maybe I should stick to that audio guide my family has somewhere...

The Omelet

For breakfast on Christmas morning, I made everyone customized omelets. I fancy myself a pretty good omelet maker. Herewith and for one time only, I reveal the secrets of my omelet-making success.

THE PAN: I like a small pan. It does not have to be an "omelet pan" per se. I used a 8.5 inch anodized aluminum Calphalon pan.

THE FLIPPING UTENSIL: I like the flat plastic spatula made by Oxo. It is flexible and about 4 inches wide by 1/8 inch thick. Your utensil should be able to easily slide under the eggs, so flexibility is nice.

THE EGGS: Fresh as you can get them. Two (not three), large.

THE FAT: butter and olive oil together. Approximately 3/4 tablespoon of each per omelet (I confess that I have a bad habit of eyeballing my measurements).

THE SECRET: 1 tablespoon, no more, of sparkling water from a freshly opened bottle. The bottle should be room temperature and I usually use club soda. This, plus a teaspoon (aka small dollop) of cream, is all I add to the eggs, initially. The sparkling water makes the egg mix puff up a bit when it hits the hot pan, making for a lighter-textured omelet.

THE ADD-INS: Like making stir-fry, everything must be ready, mise-en-place style, so you can attend fully to the cooking of the eggs and the temperature of the pan. I suggest crumbled soft goat cheese, grated gruyère/emmentaler, pre-sautéed mushrooms/onions, roasted red pepper, morsels of cooked ham, chopped green olives (not cocktail olives, preferably French picholine or Spanish "queen"), a mix of herbs (flat parsley, cilantro, tarragon, thyme). And don't add too much filling! There should be space for the egg to flow around and envelop the add-ins.

RECIPE:
1) In a small bowl, beat eggs with a fork just until the yolks are broken and the yolk/white is swirled together. About 5 vigorous rotations of the fork should do it. Add cream, swirl once with fork.
2) Attend to your pan. Before adding fat, turn the heat on to high, wait 10 seconds, then turn it down a tad to between high and medium-high. Add fat. Swirl fat around the pan with the spatula.
3) Add 1 tablespoon (no more!) sparkling water to egg mixture. Swirl once with fork. Pour egg mix into pan. Try not to splash it up the sides of the pan. Working quickly, sprinkle the egg mix with salt and pepper. Jiggle the pan gently, then as egg mix sets, begin to work your spatula under the edge of the egg mix and jiggle the pan some more. The point is to ensure that the egg does not stick to the pan.
4) Add filling. Avoid clusters of filling. Distribute filling evenly over the egg mix (not in a line, taco style).
NOTE: steps 3-4 should take no more than 2-3 minutes.
5) When the egg mix STILL IS WET AND UNSET IN THE MIDDLE, BUT ITS EDGES HAVE SET SLIGHTLY, slide your spatula under one half of the egg mix. In a smooth not-too-fast movement, fold the omelet in half. Count to 5. Flip the whole omelet over in the pan. Count to 5 again. Flip it onto a plate. Keep warm in an oven until ready to eat.