Friday, February 25, 2005

Choosing to participate

Yesterday, I accompanied my son's ninth grade class into the city on a field trip. It was a fascinating day with activities spanning the gambit from watching the dissection of a real cow's eye to viewing magical swans gliding upon the pond in front of the San Francisco Palace of Arts to a woman with an amazing voice, unabashedly and unapolegetically singing a Pucini aria, in the middle of a crowded city train.

Our first stop was the Exploritorium where the kids were allowed to wander freely, interacting with the exhibits and learning about the physical world and the five human senses. I was particularly keen on the exhibit that dealt with vision and perception. I photographed a sign in the exhibit that I was impressed by. It read, and I quote: "We don't see things as they are; we see things as WE are." After participating in a number of of the visual activities and experiments it made me realize how subjective seeing really is. Each of us receives the same light stimulation, but we each interpret it differently based on our own unique perceptions, and by the way our individual bodies function. We live in the same physical world, but the visual world we experience is as varied as there are people in the world. Interesting to think about and wonder how anyone agrees on anything, based how subjective and personal our take on the real world can be.

After the Exploritorium we boarded two, count them two, city buses to return to the civic center and the San Francisco Public library, where we viewed an exhibition called "Choosing to Participate. The exhibit focused on the concept of actively participating, in order to make a difference in your community and how little acts can have a big impact.

One aspect of the exhibit focused on the Crisis of the Little Rock in '57, another on the religious persecution in Billings, Montana in '93. I was personally impressed to hear a tape recording of the well, articulated thoughts of Elizabeth Ekhart, one of the Little Rock Nine who was one of the first students to integrate into an all white highschool. Not being aware that the other eight students were to approach the school in a unified group that morning, she was alone and by herself. That morning, her concerns were those of a typical teenager; what she would wear on her first day of school. The black and white checked dress she had made for the occasion was immaculatey pressed and displayed for us to see. She had no idea of what awaited for her as she approached the school that day; the anger the resentment and the alienation. She desired only to have better options by attending the white school in Little Rock and I can only imagine how devasting it must have been for a teenager to be confronted with so much anger and hatred on her first day of school all on her own. I marvel at her perseverance and fortitude to meet the challenge with courage. But, instead of retreating and giving up, by participating she made a difference, as did the citizens of Billings when the entire community, regardless of religion, chose to place menorahs in their windows to send a message that violence would not be tolerated in their town.

So, in my own small way, I chose to participate in my son's community for a day. I was impressed with his friends and the way he handled himself as we made our way in and around San Francisco. I was happy for the opportunity to socialize and make some new friends amongst the other parents. It also felt good to get away from my desk and computer and view the sights and sounds of San Francisco up close and personal. So, my take aways from yesterdays field trip... there are things you can change and things you can't... the act of seeing is subjective and in-exact, there is nothing you can do about it, but, the act of participating makes a tangible difference and there is something you can do about that.


San Francisco Palace of Arts, I might as well be in Rome!




Swans on the Lake


Swans on the street


My son stunned by an exhibit of mutant flies


San Francisco Public Library

Tuesday, February 22, 2005

Painting again....

After a bit of a break, I have started to paint again. I have a bunch of ideas that I want to capture on canvas; ideas that have been percolating around in my brain ever since our trip to Italy last fall. Recently, they have finally made it to the surface and seem to be calling out to me to be realized.

Painting for me is a liberating experience. Working from photographs I start by sketching a design on a big canvas in charcoal or pencil. Purists would say you have to paint from nature. But, I am doing what feels good to me and what makes me happy; capturing colors and images from photographs on canvas makes me happy. Lately, I have been working in acrylics instead of oils. I am doing this mainly because there is no mess, less set up and virtually no smell. Although, I have to confess that I do love the smell of linseed oil and turpentine. It is one of my favorite smells of all time. It takes me back to the paint spattered studio in college, where big windows poured pure light onto canvases set on giant easels.

These days, I work in our bedroom, with my canvases propped up against the dresser next to our bed and the window blinds raised to their highest position. I sit on a big tarp cross-legged (my favorite position, whether I'm painting or sitting at my computer) in front of the canvas. I squeeze my paints out on a big tray and strew my big brushes about me for easy selection. I turn on the t.v. in the corner of the room, and set it to RAI international. I enjoy hearing the low babble of italian flowing over and around me while I work. Then, as I begin, I find myself entering a unique space in my head. My concerns become which shades of purple are appealing or if I have enough Naples yellow on my palette to express the golden light shinning on a farm field. It is an enjoyable process of mixing colors and laying down colors, and that alone is worth the effort. For me, painting can be an intensly personal experience. I work at close proximity to the canvas and then I stand and stretch. I turn around and walk away and then swivel to face the picture that I have been working on. Sometimes, if I am really lucky, I experience the excited little thrill in my stomach that tells me that I have done something special. From a distance the painting looks different. After a gaining a little perspective on the piece, I return to my crossed-leg position and continue painting, excited with the results I am achieving. I am lost in colors, and take pleasure in the way they are placed next to each and how darker colors placed next to lighter colors create shadow and light and define a form. I can never recapture the real thing; I am not trying to. I am capturing a mood, a feeling and that is very real to me.

I know I am done with a painting if I have no urge to go in and change things around. The trick is knowing when to stop. I will keep my painting perched in front of the dresser and throughout the next couple of days as I pass by, I will continue to analyze it and study it and enjoy it. Then, I either hang it somewhere or prop it up in the bedroom amongst piles of other canvases that I have finished. After a while, when I look back on some of my work, I often see the paintings in a whole new way. If I am lucky, I still experience that same little thrill I had when I was creating it. Then I know that I created something special.

This is a recent painting of a house with ruins behind it near Castel Muzio in Italy. We were out driving around at sunset and saw this beautiful spot. I wanted to drive up the lane to explore some more but fortunately, spotted the sign that clearly stated "Entrare Vietato! Non Disturbare!" just in time. What a shame. I would have liked to have driven up the lane for a closer look. As it is, I have to be content with a photo from a far and a painting that comes slightly close to the feeling I had standing there outside of Castel Muzio with my husband, on our way back to La Moscadella for dinner.

Monday, February 21, 2005

Chia Day 11

I would have posted today's Chia picture sooner but I got caught up with work. I'm designing a logo for a woman who is starting a new business counseling kids on their college selections and advising highschoolers how to get into a good school. I have developed some interesting ideas and I think I am on the right track. I always get a vibe from my clients and seem to be able to discern what it is that they are looking for, based on how they present themselves and what their interests are. But, there is always that moment when I send a potential design out for consideration. I wait with anticipation to hear what the client's initial reaction will be. These are my ideas and I want them to be well received. I was reading a blog by Janet and I like her confidence when she is faced with this situation. She wrote in her blog So Will She Like it or Not? "Now, will she like it? I think she will. I think she'll say, "Janet, you've done it again! Let's just change this, that and the other thing." But overall she'll like it." For the most part that is the kind of reaction I usually get. But, like Janet, I'm a big girl, and if it isn't what she wants, given feedback I will change it so that she does.

I have always been pretty fortunate when it comes to clients. For the most part they are all very interesting people with interesting careers. They are easy to work with and pay on time and generally become friends. For instance, just last Saturday evening the whole family had dinner at Dorrie and Steve's house, two clients, each for whom I work for. Once upon a time, however, there was this one client, whom shall remain nameless but I will refer to her as "the dog lady", who proved to be a bit of a nut. She asked me to design a logo for her dog grooming business. The fact that she was going through a messy divorce, and that she appeared for our first client meeting with her Jack Russell terrior in her arms and then proceeded to break into tears as she spoke of her dog, should have given me my first clue that this was to be a difficult client. In the end, things worked out just fine.

So, let's see, work held up this posting, and then I had to run my kids over to Chuck E. Cheeses for a B-day party. Who ever came up with the concept of Chuck E. Cheese? I would like to personally examine their brain. What were they thinking? A nightmarish place for parents. A wasteland of unbridled caos and confusion. Immediately upon entering, I become claustraphobic and panic that the exits will seal shut and there will be no escaping. Once I locate one child, the other disappears into the maze of endless tubing, pinball machines and the never ending sea of small children with runny noses and I fear I may never see MY child again. As much as a trip to Chuckie's causes me to break out in hives and migrains, it proves to be a garden of earthly delights for my kids. My six year old keeps asking me when we can have his b-day party at Chuckie's and I'm starting to run out of excuses! Thankfully, that is a bridge that doesn't need to be crossed until May!

And now, finally, back to the star of this blog...the Chia Pet. Day 11 and looking fine!

Napoleon Dynamite

We watched Napoleon Dynamite last night, or as I affectionately refer to the movie, "Napoleon Blownapart". I said that the other day and my son rolled on the floor laughing. Nice to know you can still tickle the funny bone of your oldest son! It is a quirky, little film and not without merit. My son has been after us to watch it all together as he has seen it more than a couple of times. He knows the movie so well infact that he can recite whole lines of dialogue from the movie, aided somewhat by internet downloads and a cult following at school. Last week he was home sick with the flu. After two days of rest and recooperation, and with little else to do, he took to standing at the top of the stairs and reciting random lines from the movie over the balcony to me (me, who was sitting at my computer in my office at the bottom of the stairs) thus making any attempts that I was making at writing messages to my Italian forum La Bacheca nearly impossible. Not finding it quite as amusing as he apparently did, I urged him, to go back to studing his spanish conjugations, promising that we would rent the movie and watch it over the weekend. We did, and we enjoyed it for its bizzare whimsy.

Speaking of all things quirky and whimsical, I can't help but also mention a new friend...CompassionNat. I am continually surprised by the internet! By now you'd think I'd be over that. But, I'm not. It surprises me every day with the wealth of information that you can find on the Net and by the people that you encounter. Here I am sitting in California and yet I am able to meet people in Asia, Alaska, Washington DC and England, that I otherwise would never encounter. This little box in front of me is transporting me all over the globe and introducing me to fascinating people. Take for instance CompassionNat, who wrote a very lovely note to me the other day and I want to thank her very much for taking the time to do so. She fell into my blog and I visited hers and now I am enjoying getting to know her better. She wrote a blog called the Beautiful Blog which I found particularly neat. "The beauty of a blog...lies in history. A history you can re-live. Archives, they call it. you can archive back to a moment, an event, a picture, a thought, an opinion, a comment, a phase...and remember for that moment, that feeling you felt." That is a beautiful blog! Thanks Nat you are really special.

Saturday, February 19, 2005

Chia Pet Project Day 8

Day 8 of the Chia Pet project and seeds are sprouting rapidly. Don't get too overly concerned or adjust your monitors if you seem to be experiencing a time warp. Yes, yesterday's posting was day 4 of the Chia project and you may be wondering how it is possible to already be up to day eight! Well, you have entered the internet zone where anything is possibile!

Friday, February 18, 2005

How many ways can you say tired?

I was thinking about that this morning driving my son to school. I realized that I was feeling kind of tired. But, the kind of tired I was feeling this morning, with an ache in my shoulders and scratchy dry eyes, was different from the kind of bone crushing, disorienting tired I felt last night after I had spent two hours making revisions to a web site. The kind of tired where you can't think straight and when you run into a html programming glitch trying to upload files, your brain just kind of freezes and you blank out as you struggle to remember how you resolved the problem the last time it occurred. Now this is all together a different kind of tired from the tired you feel when you are just bored. I have a theory that, many times when asked how they are feeling, people just say that they are tired because they are completely and utterly bored and just don't have the creativity to come up with a different adjective. Then there is the tired you feel after the physical exhaustion of stepping up and down on a riser for an hour or the tired you feel when you try to run on a tread mill for 35 minutes and have trouble picking up those heavy feet. Or there is the impatient tired you feel when you can't find the "off" switch on your six-year old and the questions just seem to keep bubbling out of his mouth. You struggle to clear your head and concentrate and form a coherent response as to why the air gets colder as you go up into space instead of hotter since you are getting closer to the sun.

I think that I need to create a new language for tired. The eskimos have something like fifty different words for "snow". I think I need to create fifty new words to describe tired.

Chia Pet Project Day 4

Every year for Christmas I ask for a Chia Pet. No one has ever taken me seriously before, thinking that I was just kidding around. Every year when I hear the cha cha chia pet commercials flooding the commercial waves I jump up and down and exclaim "That's what I want for Christmas!" Well, finally this year someone got the message. My son Ryan, who is now of the age where he thinks random ideas are fabulous, went right out and bought me my very own Chia pet. He choose appropriately enough, the form of an alligator because his swim team is called the Gators. Well, the Chia pet sat around on the desk in my office for the entire month of January. The kids kept bugging me, with "mom, you wanted the Chia pet so badly and now you aren't even making it!" My six year old especially liked to pepper me with questions as to when we were going to make our Chia pet grow. He is a mover and a shaker and never one to sit idly by when there is some exciting project or activity that he can be getting his hands into. But, I as fate would have it, I got caught up in business of daily living and zooming around, not to mention my new blogging activities that have seriously cut into any Chia Pet seeding moments that I might have had. But, finally last week, I deemed it to be the appropriate moment to break the Chia pet out of it's box and start it a-growing. So, stay with us as we watch the Chia pet grow......!

Day 4 of the Chia Pet Project (I didn't think to start taking pictures until four days into our little grow fest)



p.s. yes, that is Princess Leia standing in the cow/milk pitcher to the right of the Chia pet. Why you ask? Because I saved her from a fate worse than death... abandonment at the bottom of the toy bin. I've got boys...remember!

What if god were one of us?

I really like the song "What if god were one of us" by Joan Osborne. I like it so much that I just downloaded it from i-tunes so that I can add it to my personal collection. "What if god were one of us, Just a slob like one of us, just a stranger on the bus trying to make his way home." I relate to this idea and it resonates clearly with me. The idea that god is not a stranger or a fearsome distant entity, judging from a far makes sense to me. I like the idea that god is near at hand and that each of us has a spark of divinity within. I was raised in the Quaker religion and was always taught to believe that god dwells within each of us making each of us unique and special. The trick is to be able to tune out other voices and be able to listen to that still quiet voice of reason and inspiration. When I was young, church for me did not mean organ music, reciting prayers, collection plates, standing up, sitting down and standing up again and tuning into one grand voice that spoke to all. For me, church was sitting quietly in someone's living room amongst a small circle of friends. It was quiet meditation. It was hearing a bird chirping at the window sill, or the humming of a lawn mower in the field across the way or the grumbling of someone's stomach. It was settling down, stilling the fidgeting and letting the clutter fall away. And then, it was suddenly realizing that by quieting all other distractions, out of the silence came the ability to hear and listen to the inner voice that resides within. A voice that only I could channel and bring forth. A voice that counseled. A voice that inspired. A voice that energized. A voice that calmed. A voice that encouraged me to make good decisions. A voice that brought clarity. A voice that soothed. This idea that god is one of us, encourages a personal relationship. I like that. I think I'm going to listen to Joan's song a couple of more times today and then later, perhaps I will find some quiet and listen for my own inner voice as well.

Thursday, February 17, 2005

Three things that bug me

Okay, I have already covered the first thing that bugs me in a previous blog. That would be Laundry. Isn't this great. I just figured out how to add links to my blog entries and I'm just linking away right and left! So laundry has been covered ad nauseum..now I turn to filling up the gas tank of the car. It just happened again. The red warning light flashed telling me the tank contains nothing but fumes and that I should pull over immediately and fill 'er up. This always puts me into a tail spin of panic. I am blissfully driving around, paying no attention to the gas tank and then all of a sudden I get all paranoid that the car is going to come to a screeching halt in the middle of nowhere, or worse yet smack dab in the middle of the freeway. Usually, when that red light goes on, it is always at the most inconvenient moment of my day. Say, right as I am about to run around doing car pool duties or just as I am racing off to the BART to catch a train. It is never a good moment to fill up the gas tank. When I was newly married and we had only a beat up Honda Civic to drive I used to play dumb and make my husband fill the tank when ever it got low. After a while he caught on and refused to buy into my sly female ploy and started making me fill up the tank too. I guess I was always a little intimidated by gas pumps. It is just a minor little phobia. Every pump is slightly different and I always hate standing in front of them looking like an idiot because I can't figure out the right sequence of buttons to push, and then have to eventually get in my car and drive off because I can't figure the thing out. But, I got over that in a hurry after my husband gave me a solid push in the direction of the nearest gas pump. Still, it is a task that I don't enjoy and it is always a big annoyance. Speaking of that Honda, when we lived in Baltimore I absent mindly left the windows down almost every day. Did you know that it rains frequently and unexpectedly in Baltimore in the spring and summer? We rode around most of the time on soggy seat cushions and squishy floor mats.

So getting back to the purpose of this blog...the third annoyance would have to be meal planning. I do love to cook and I do love to invent fabulous dishes from big oversized cook books that have pictures of Tuscany on the front. I love to mix new ingredients together like walnuts with ricotta, wrap asparagus with prosciutto or heat real vanilla beans with cream to make coffee gelato. However, unfortunately, cooking like laundry, doesn't stay done. It keeps happening and needs to be reinvented over and over and over and over again. I go through my designer cooking phases, but for the most part it is a struggle putting a meal on the table every day. That is why we eat a lot of tacos, spaghetti, grilled salmon, macaroni and chicken nuggets. A big hit at our house is breakfast for dinner...it consists of, you guessed it, pancakes, eggs and turkey bacon.

So, those are my pet peeves for today. If hard pressed I'm sure I can come up with a bunch more...stay tuned!

Mission Peak Partners

My husband and I both have our own businesses and recently decided to incorporate. We are now Mission Peak Partners. The name seemed appropriate seeing as we live under the shadow of Mission Peak and I climb the hill every weekend. (I refer you to an earlier blog I wrote to bring you up to speed... Climbing Mission Peak

My husband and I both work out of our house. It is actually quite a nice arrangement. In the beginning it was a little bit of a shock and not without the normal adjustments one needs to make getting used to seeing one's partner 24-7. But, after a while we settled into a routine, expectations were managed and now we work sided by side quite compatibly. I work in the office at the front of the house and my husband in an office at the back of the house. My husband is a brand manager and for years worked in high powered corporate environments, commuted great distances and was a gold member of United's Frequent Flyer club. Now his commute is a short trip down the hall to the back bedroom. We meet in the kitchen for coffee breaks and lunch and then return to our respective corners to work some more. Working side by side has been great and on occasion we have had the chance to collaborate on a project or two...that is, in addition to the children we created together. For tax benefits and other legalities, we decided to reap the benefits of incorporation this year. I will continue to be known as Melissa Design but will function under the new corporate umbrella. Since we are an official corporation now and have successfully filed our papers and have an EIN number, I would now like to unveil the new company logo.....drum roll please!

Ta da!



Below is the unofficial logo of Mission Peak Partners...kind of my favorite, but my husband didn't think it quite set the tone for his management consulting business....still, I like the two cows smooching! FYI there are a lot of cows meandering about on Mission Peak...this seemed only appropriate!

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

F.A.M.E.

I just have to shout out to the world how much I love my life today! What an exceptionally fun, invigorating day I have had. Did I ever think that one day I would actually put my master's degree in Art History to good use? Having very few options or teaching opportunities when I left grad school, I turned my attention to making art, instead of talking about art. But, recently I had the good fortune of getting involved in the elementary school's program of FAME (Fine Art & Music Education.) Once a month we present an artist and a composer to every grade, levels K-6. Previously, people at the school and friends kept saying "you should do the FAME program, we need you!" But, I was a little hesitant to get too involved due to my work schedule, time constraints and the responsibility of having a younger child at home. But, now my youngest is in first grade and I want to actively participate at the school so as not to miss a moment of his elementary school days. I don't want to have regrets later after he is all grown up. This is my last chance. So, this year when the teachers and coordinators started recruiting me I decided to answer their calls and have become a docent for Weibel Elementary's FAME program.

FAME is amazing. It brings out the actor and clown in me. Today I presented Edgar Degas' "The Ballet School" while another parent docent presented Tchaikovsky's ballet "Swan Lake". In all, we presented to two groups of first graders in the morning and two groups of sixth graders in the afternoon, each of us responsible for half hour presentations. Yesterday, when I was helping to set up the library with oversized copies of Degas' paintings and pinning up dance outfits and ballet shoes on the wall, I decided we didn't have enough props. I ran right over to the fabric store and bought four yards of bright pink tulle and lavander ribbon. Last night I stitched up a frothy tutu/apron that I planned to wear over a pair of black pants and shirt, hoping for extra giggles and a little comic relief. The kids were fantastic and the teachers even funnier, especially when I called the male teachers up to demonstrate ballet positions and made them wear the impromptu tutu that I had concocted.

Degas' painting gave me the opportunity to speak of how the artist loved to express form and movement through line, contours and cropping of objects. I was able to tell the kids that it is important to visit art musuems to get ideas and learn how to make art from other artists. I told them how Degas was influenced by Ingres, the draftsman and by Japanese block prints. I told them what made him a part of the impressionist movement and how his love of lines and delineating his forms set him a part from painters like Renoir and Monet. We talked of what is meant by "contemporary" subject matter as opposed to "historical" subject matter and why the impressionists liked to paint ordinary women dancing on stages as opposed to painting pictures that told stories of anciet roman gods. Last but not least, I spoke of Degas' personal struggles. He was a shy, introverted man who never married or had a family and was rather a fearsome figure that other Parisians found daunting. I told the kids of how he lost his vision late in his life, but refused to stop creating art. He turned from painting pictures to the medium of clay. Seeing with his fingers, he sculpted figures of dancing girls which he later had cast into bronze.

When I prepare for my FAME lessons I am always a little trepidatious as to how each session will go. When I am finished, however, I am energized and exhilirated. We had fun! I realize how much I really LIKE talking about art in leiu of doing art. The kids were wonderful, full of questions and intrigued by the artist Edgar Degas and I think that they learned something fresh and new from me today. I can't wait until next month when I have a new artist to tell them about. So, look afterall, in the end, I have my teaching career. Instead of chasing after it, it found me instead!

Tuesday, February 15, 2005

Photos of lovely women

I have an old album that my father gave to me that contains photos of my grandmother when she was a teenager. I love to look through this book of faded pictures. It is filled with images of young people having fun at house parties and dressed up in home made costumes playing charades. There are Atlantic City boardwalk scenes and photos of striking young women with great big hats and hour glass figures. I get lost in these images and wonder about a time gone by. To think that the babies in these photos being cuddled by adoring men in starched shirts and women in taffeta, are now in their eighties and nineties, is mind boggling. Youth captured forever in a single photo, timeless and irresistable. I wish I could go back and meet these people and be a part of their era for just a moment. I am filled with nostelgia and longing. I wish I could have known my grandmothers when they were young and just starting out on their journies. What lovely women they were.


My grandmother Geneva holding my uncle. I love the cupid doll sitting on the piano.


My grandmother Edie on her graduation day from Swarthmore College. I keep this picture on my nightstand.

Further rantings from a crazed mind

I was kind of bummed out yesterday when I was cruising through some blogs to find out that there is so much negativity out there regarding Valentine's day. So much disdain and negative energy exhibited for this so-called commercial holiday. Being a graphic designer, I support holidays that require beautiful cards that express love and passion. If you aren't creative enough to make your own greeting card, well, at least support the industry that works hard creating beautiful images so that you don't have to. What a bunch of stick in the muds. Of course you can express your love any day of the week. Of course you don't have to have just one day set a side to do so. Why does every one have to be so gosh darn critical ALL the time? Kind of a selfish mopey attitude if you ask me. Lighten up! Have some fun. Enjoy life for a change. Let yourself have a party day already!

Staying on my soap box for a moment longer, I'd also like to say to the whiners and procrastinators of the world, get over that too. If you want to do something, do it. If you want to change something, change it. If you want to learn a language, get a new job, start a new project, get busy and DO it. Stop talking. I like people who say what they mean and do what they say. If you are stuck moping around doing the same old, same old and are unhappy, it is because you are afraid to change and actually like the status quo. So stop complaining. If you want something ask for it. I am so happy for Beth. She asked for flowers to be sent to her at work, she clearly stated her intentions and put her thoughts out into the universe and the next day she received a big bouquet of roses. I am a firm believer in fueng shui and visualization. Get rid of old stuff, clear out your spaces and allow new ideas and positive energy in. Visualize something in your mind, view it from all sides and before long it will be an actuality. Anyone spewing negative energy should be avoided at all costs.

That being said, I am going to do pilates and a vigorous work out. Enjoy your day too!

Laundry rantings

I was reading Amy's blog the other day and noticed her blog quiz in which was asked the question "What brand of laundry soap do you use?" Now, I don't particularly care what brand of laundry soap anybody uses, but the question brings to mind one of my particular pet peeves...doing laundry. I am blessed with a four-boy-household (one of which is my husband) and I find myself doing a lot of laundry. I am not that particular or picky when it comes to the type of soap I use or the cycle I choose to do my washes; in my laundry room the laundry dials are permanently set on extra extra big load, & extra cold wash (to save money and energy). I tend to stuff as much as I can into our poor tired machine so as not to waste the day on transferring clothes from one machine to another. If it can be crammed into one load, all the better.

Now, there are some good things about laundry...let me see...I haul the clothes basket up and down the stairs which not only improves my cardiovascular system and lung capacity, but also builds up my muscle bulk. I fold and sort each boys stuff into piles, which improves my dexterity and pattern recognition skills. If I'm particularly lucky, I snag one or two of the boys to help with the folding, which improves my mother son relationship and gives me a chance to impart to them the importance of cleanliness and the fact that men are capable of doing their own laundry, something that hopefully someday their future wives will benefit from. Then, I bellow out for each of them to gather up their individual piles and squirrel them away in the drawers in their rooms and this gives me a chance to vocalize and perfect my managerial capabilities.

What I find odd is that I find myself doing laundry, one or two loads every other day. How can this be, I often find myself grumbling? I would have thought that this amount of laundry would ensue only from a household of girls. How can these boys produce such volumes of dirty clothes. In fact, my stuff takes up about 1% of the entire load; the rest is boxers, briefs, socks, endless t-shirts, jeans and of course countless towels. I have had a sneaking suspicion as to why all this laundry keeps cropping up and the other day my worst fears were proven correct. After an incredibly backbreaking, marathon laundry episode, I turned around a minute later only to find that the boys' laundry basket full to over flowing, AGAIN! In an attempt to avoid putting away their clean clothes the boys were stuffing them back into the dirty laundry hamper. In that moment I saw red. I hit the roof. I was furious. Who says I don't have Italian blood coursing through my veins. I had a prima donna melt down any Italian mamma would have been proud of. After it was over the boys sheepishly retreated into their rooms and diligently put away their clothes. Michael reappeared a few moments later, looked at me, shrugged and held open his arms for a hug. How can I stay mad at THAT!

So, laundry is one of those dismal daily chores that doesn't go away. I can derive satisfaction in getting it done. My lament is that it just doesn't stay done! It isn't glamorous or creative or all that pleasurable. It is a chore, clean and simple. Last year when I was painting the boys' bedrooms and hallway I took moment out to also paint the laundry room a cheery yellow in an attempt to liven up the whole laundry scene. Along the top of the wall I painted in cursive script an inscription: Il bucato che non finisce mai! Translated: The laundry that never ends. As if I needed to be reminded!

Monday, February 14, 2005

Valentine's Day

I have always enjoyed Valentine's Day. It comes along at a perfect point, mid-way between Christmas and my birthday in March. To me, it is the bright spot in the otherwise barren landscape of winter. I grew up in Iowa and so, for me the days of January and February seemed to march along in a continuum of gray, snowy, frigid days with nothing to distinguish one day from the other. I always looked forward to Valentine's day as the chance to regain a little festivity and warmth into my otherwise dreary routine.

I consider Valentine's day a nifty little holiday because it doesn't require hours preparation like Christmas or entail the hoopla of birthday parties. It is instead, an impromptu, spur of the moment, break-up the doldrums kind of day. It provides the excuse to wear magenta sweaters and silver heart shaped earrings. It is also a good day to wear pink plaid high heels with bows. It is a day to bring a sparkle into someone's eye by telling them that you think they are special. I derive great pleasure in the day by concocting handmade cards for everyone in the family. Sometimes I paint them, sometimes I illustrate them and other times create collages of a person's life with magazine clippings all pasted together into a giant red heart.

I myself, have always approached Valentine's day with suspended expectations, not requiring or demanding anything and perhaps this is why I take such great pleasure in the day. I don't expect anything and therefore am frequently surprised by everything. One year I was surprised by dinner at a French restaurant and another year by a pair of bubble gum pink hightops. There seems to be only one constant every year, and that is chocolate in some shape or another. This year I have already been pleasantly surprised by a big bouquet of flowers that arrived on our doorstep from my father-in-law. The flowers are filling the house and my office with a wonderful fragrance of spring and anticipation. Tonight we will have a family dinner of meatloaf and mashed potatoes (the kids love mashed potatoes) and we will exchange cards all around. Afterwards we will feast on brownies, strawberry ice-cream with chocolate sauce and last, but not least, heart shaped sugar cookies.

Saturday, February 12, 2005

Is it nurture or nature?

How is it that little boys seem to be able to form weapons out of any thing handy to them at the moment? I know, I know, you hear this a lot. But, it really is true. I just had lunch with my six year old son. On the menu this Saturday was a toasted cheese sandwich. Toward the end of our lunch, after he had eaten away most of the gooey interior of the sandwich, he picked up the "L" shaped crusty remains and started pow pow powing away exclaiming "look mom, a pistol". I had a similar experience with my older son when he was only four. After boarding a plane for Florida, as I buckled him into his seat, I noticed that he had a piece of Brio train track stuck down his shorts. Amazed, I asked what in the world he was doing with a piece of train track down his pants. He responded that it was his Power Ranger sword, of course! How he slipped through airport security is anybody's guess! Not to be out done by the antics of his two brothers, my third son used to walk around the house with a box on his head brandishing a card board paper towel tube pretending it to be a light saber with which he could obliterate all the hostile aliens of the universe.

Being the mom of three boys, my days are continually orchestrated by the background noises of imaginery weaponry. I am a peace loving person and have always advocated tolerance and peaceful resolution of conflicts with my kids. So, why is it that these three continually find enjoyment in aggressive imaginary play? Is it a boy thing? It is interesting to think about...nurture vs nature. I do think that most of it is learned behavior, from watching movies and of course those "benign" cartoons! But, there has to be some kind of catalyst that nature provides. I am confident that my husband and I set good examples, providing the warmth, love and security necessary, so that even though our boys test their world in an aggressive manner, they know the boundaries of acceptable behavior. Overall, I'm not all that concerned by their cheese sandwich guns, Brio swords or paper towel laser beams, because I know that my kids can also be loving and kind and that is what really matters to me.

Friday, February 11, 2005

Wouldn't it be great to drive a Prius?

I drive a BIG car. I guess it is really more truck than car. It is a Ford Expedition that we purchased six years ago to handle all three kids AND the neighborhood car pool. In addition to the extra passenger space, we needed something gianormous to handle all the extracurricular seasonal gear that we feel obligated to haul around with us. Stuff like, skis, boots, lawn chairs (for soccer), bats, balls, helmets, tents, sleeping bags, backpacks, five suitcases, and last but not least, all the towels, coolers, and swim parkas that we can fit in for those day long swim meets. That's a hefty requirement for any car! At first, I was skeptical about driving such a large vehicle. Then, I got used to it. Piece of cake really, and I kind of like sitting up high above the earth with a bird's eye view of traffic. But lately, I am starting to feel kind of conspicuous and clunky driving around in our great big ol' truck.

Now, I am probably the last person in the world to get all jazzed up about ANY type of car. And unlike my husband, who could tell you the make or model of a car and it's statistics, when he was only six years old, my car owning requirements have always been pretty basic. As long as the car started when you turned the ignition key, had steering capabilities and four good wheels, I was good to go. But, recently this has all changed. I have suffered a major attitude adjustment all because I have seen and experienced a Prius! Last October, while my husband's car was in the shop, the insurance company set us up with a rental car. To our amazement and good fortune, it turned out to be a beautiful brand new Prius. It was an awesome experience driving that car. It was like driving an intelligent computer. Not only was it fun to drive, but I felt good driving it because it makes such great sense for the environment. Someone once told me some outrageous statistic, like, you could drive around the world ten times in a Prius and emit the same pollutants into the air as you would if you were to use one can of hairspray (it went something like that). It just doesn't make sense that we aren't all driving around in hybrid cars. And gas mileage, don't get me started!!!! I want one!

However, by the time our life style is more suited to driving a smaller car, it won't be necessary to cart around so much gear and so many children. I have a hard enough time with time rushing by and the kids growing up so quickly before my eyes as it is. Before you know it I will be driving a Prius, but my husband and I may be the only passengers. I tell myself to be patient and be careful for what I wish for! I'll keep my fingers crossed instead, and hope that maybe they will start making an affordable gianormous Prius in the nearer future!

Thursday, February 10, 2005

Knitting

Last night I started knitting again. I went to a Superbowl party last Sunday, where I watched my friend Laura pull out a ball of colorful yarn that looked like is was made of confetti and with big fat needles she proceeded to knit away on one of those trendy scarves you see a lot of women wearing these days. Monday afternoon I was at the craft store buying 11 gauge needles and sorting through the wide selection of "fancy fur" and fun yarns that are now available.

After I got the kids to bed last night, I started casting on stiches. It took about twenty minutes to remember how to do it. I had learned how to knit a long time ago from my Aunt Willy, my dad's brother's wife. My Aunt Willy and Uncle Enie lived in Hanover, Indiana in a house that was set on a bluff that overlooked the Ohio river. The house had started out as a log cabin, but through the years, it had been added on to so many times that the rest of the house grew up like a giant mushroom over and around the original log room. My Aunt was an opinionated, wise-cracking, feisty lady, who chain smoked, and who had a passion for knitting and crocheting. Her creations however, were slightly off kilter. Her craftsmanship was flawless but her designs and color selection were truly awful. Every year for Christmas she would make a gift for everyone. It was with dread and amused anticipation that we unwrapped her lime green ponchos and shocking pink vests, that smelled heavily of cigarette smoke.

We visited my aunt and uncle once a year and one of the things we did when we visited, was to learn how to knit and crochet. So, before I knew it, as I sat in the middle of my bed, listening to Alias on TV last night, it all came back to me. By the time I said goodbye to Jennifer Garner, I was was knitting away, like I had never stopped. So far so good. In two hours I have accomplished a foot. I am happy with my progress and am finding that knitting is a very relaxing and satisfying way to unwind. I am making a scarf for my mom for her birthday and hope that she will enjoy my color selections almost as much as Aunt Willy's!

Tuesday, February 08, 2005

A Tale of Two Fish

We have two fish. We don't have a dog or a cat or even gerbils. We used to have a big old box turtle, but unfortunately after ten good years, the poor thing perished one hot summer day last July. A couple of years ago I asked my husband, "Wouldn't it be a great idea to get a puppy for the kids?" His response was that, if it were between a dog or another child, he would much rather have another baby. A year later, we were still dogless, but one child richer.

We like dogs, in fact we are dog people. Both my husband and I grew up with dogs. We both coincidentally had beagles. Great dogs, if not a little eccentric. As my dog aged, it seemed that she actually considered herself a human being and as such, should be entitled to go on all the family outings, even if it were just to the super market. If not, we would be punished by presents left around the house upon our return. Despite all that, I loved our dog and think that our little family would benefit from a pet.

My husband, the voice of reason and practicality, continues to point out that the brunt of any dog keeping responsibilities would ultimately fall into our realm (and by "our realm" he meant "my realm") of chores instead of the kids'. He further insists that it would be a hassle to kennel the dog when we travel, etc. I think he dangles that "traveling idea" to get me to veer off topic, so that I am distracted by thoughts of shiny airplanes and far off cities like Rome and Venice.

So, two years ago, I came up with a solution to our pet owning dilemma. Not a great solution...but a solution, none-the-less. I decided we would buy gold fish to fill that empty pet-owning hole in our family. Five gold fish later (seriously) we finally figured out just exactly what to do to keep two gold fish alive and fins flipping! Filters are a good idea for starters. Second, never, ever completely throw away all the old gold fish water when you are cleaning the bowl. Apparently, gold fish like the smell of their fishy water and go into trauma should it be totally eliminated from their gold fish bowl environment.

We like our gold fish. After two years, they are big and fat and even have some personality. They seem to respond to our voices and jump for joy when they see us approach their bowl. At one point I was thinking that they might make fabulous circus fish...we could train them and take them on the road. But, then I discarded the notion, mainly because I just couldn't find the time in my busy schedule for all the rigorous practicing that would have entailed.

We named our fish "Happy" and "Sad". (I tried to call them "Dolce" and "Gabbana" but the names just never stuck.) The kids on the other hand, love to skip up to the bowl and look at the fish and ask: "Are you Happy, or are you Sad"? We love our fish. They aren't warm and cuddly like a dog might be, and they don't lick your face and sleep at the end of your bed. But, they are pretty and they have made a place for themselves in our family. In the end, the voice of "Mr. Reason and Practicality" was right after all....guess who ends up feeding the fish every night? At least I don't have to take them out on a leash for a walk around the block right before going to bed!

Leis, Kotos and Bangles

The other day I was rummaging around an old upright antique desk that used to belong to my mother. Last year, when my mom and dad were getting ready to move to a smaller home in New Jersey, she had the desk shipped to me. Before sending the desk out the door and on its one way to California, she managed to pack all the drawers full of interesting odds and ends from my childhood.

Here are a couple of the noteworthy items that were waiting for me inside the desk. In one of the long, narrow drawers, almost hidden from view, I found a brown envelope with the inscription: "K. Kaya, Fishing Supply, Honolulu, Hawaii. When I turned the envelope over I found my mother's handwritten note in pencil: "Needles for lei making!" Inside were two foot long needles with slight hooks on on end. This particular find brought back memories of the sabbatical I spent with my parents on the island of Oahu when I was a teenager. We lived in the hills above Kaimuki and had a fantastic panarama of Honolulu at night. Living in Hawaii was exciting, even for a bored teenager, and because we lived there and weren't just tourists, we got to see a side of Hawaii that only the residents of the island get to see. One of the fun things we used to do was to make our own leis. Our friend Kiki Mookini taught us how. I can still smell the fragrance of plumeria blossoms gathered from the trees in Kiki's yard, as we threaded them together using our fish hooks that we bought at K. Kaya's fishing supply store, while sitting on the floor of Kiki's breezy island home.

In another drawer I found a small box made of rice paper and inside were three flat shapped picks that slip on the fingers like rings, but in actuality rest on the tips of the fingers. Ah, yes, Koto picks! I took Koto lessons for a couple of years when I was in highschool, and here were the finger picks that I had used to strum the thirteen strings of the long Japanese musical instrument. I remember memorizing the Japanese symbols that represent the strings of the koto well enough so that I could play in a Koto quartet at the college where my dad taught.

Last but not least, in amongst drawings, school projects, and homemade Valentines Day cards, was also a photo my mom and taken of me on stage during a highschool performance of Carnival. I had the role of the belly dancer and as such, got to dress up in veils and bangles and performed a solo dance in front of a packed audience. What fun! In highschool, if I wasn't performing in a play or musical, I was painting sets and backdrops.


Yep, that was me making a lei with the help of mom and Kiki!


Yep, that was me playing the Koto. What form! What intensity! Looks like I kind of know what I'm doing!


Yikes! That was me on stage in my veils and bangles!

Monday, February 07, 2005

Miracles of Santo Fico

I just finished reading "The Miracles of Santo Fico" by D.L. Smith. I am happy to report in, that I found the story to be light-hearted, enjoyable and almost fable-like. Definitely a fun read, and it doesn't hurt a bit that the story takes place along the coast in Tuscany. As I got into the story, I found it hard to put down. In fact, one day last week I was so engrossed in the story that I almost forgot to exit the train. Had I not been distracted by the conductor blaring over the load speaker that the train had switched to an outbound express, I would have found myself zooming back along the rails toward San Francisco. "Miracles" is a sweet story that describes how small acts of kindness and understanding by the inhabitants of a small, forgotten Italian village, can ultimately lead to greater changes that touch the hearts of those very same individiuals. The characters are delightful, if not fallible, and the story is witty, with funny twists and turns. Magnifico! I give it two thumbs up.

Friday, February 04, 2005

More interesting tidbits

I stole this blog quiz from my friend Mindy's blog and she in turn borrowed it from someone named Neil. It is Friday night and all I really want to do is go and put my pajamas on and mindlessly watch Joan of Arcadia, but decided instead that it might be kind fun to give this a whirl...

1: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, find line 4. Write down what it says: "Create HTML documents in Dreamweaver, easily add page title, or background color. See, "Setting Up a Document" on page 149." (Kind of a boring Dreamweaver manual...wish my copy of The History of Impressionism were sitting a little closer so that I could have impressively used that instead.)

2: Stretch your left arm out as far as you can. What do you touch first?
New Laura Pausini CD "Resta in Ascolto"

3: What is your favorite vegetable?
I will have to go with corn

4: What is your earliest memory?
Having a morning snack of milk and almond windmill cookies in the garden by the side of our house

5: What is the last thing you watched on TV?
"Will & Grace" reruns every night at 11

6: WITHOUT LOOKING, guess what the time is:
8:07 p.m.

7: Now look at the clock; what is the actual time?:
8:09 p.m. Rats, I'm missing Joan

8: With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?
My son talking on the phone with his friend Chengez about all the kids on their newly formed baseball team (yes, in California baseball season has started!)

9: When did you last step outside? What were you doing?
This afternoon. I went to the park to visit with my friend Roberta. Our kids played and we chatted in Italian.

10: Before you came to this website, what did you look at?
Impariamo...checking in on my chat group

11: Did you dream last night?
I dreamt that I was talking with Rick Steves about my lifelong dream to learn German. Very bizzare, but that doesn't beat the dream I had last week. I dreamt that my radio alarm clock was also an aquarium. We lost power temporarily, and as I was resetting the clock, the fish began to float up and out of the tank like soap bubbles. I tried to grab them and put them bank in the tank, but they were slippery and hard to hold onto. I was afraid that they were getting too much air, and then my worst fears were realized as their eyes began to pop out and then the fish, one- by-one, began to plop down to the floor. Good thing my real alarm went off just about then....

12: When did you last laugh?
I laughed a lot this afternoon with Roberta...especially when she asked to borrow my halloween costume for mardi gras. She said her husband Paolo thought I made a fetching fairly odd mother in my purple wig and pink wings, and thought Roberta would too.

13: What is on the walls of the room you are in?
A painting of Italy that I did last August, lots of faux roman-looking architectural details, another painting by me, my framed Master's Degree Diploma from the University of Illinois, two calendars with scenes of Italy, a bronze plaque of an egyptian goddess (that I bought at the Art Institute in Chicago two years ago) a small silver angel with the inscription "It was her thinking of others that made you think of her" by Elizabeth B. Browning (my mom gave it to me for Christmas last year)

14: Seen anything weird lately?
While riding BART, I saw a girl yawn and got a very good view of her pierced tongue. While on the subject, how can you live with a pierced tongue? Is it really THAT comfortable? I don't get it.

15: What do you think of this quiz?
Well, I am having some fun, after reading Mindy's answers I felt compelled to share with the world yet some more fascinating details of my life

16: What is the last film you saw?
Aviator. Disturbing and sad...can't say it was my favorite, but enjoyed Cate Blanchette as Hepburn

17: If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy first?
A brand spanking new Mac computer...biggest flat screen ever made, upgrade all my software, and then go find the whitest, sandiest beach next to the bluest ocean (I'm thinking Greece) and lay on it for an entire week!

18: Tell me something about you that I don’t know.
I paint my toe nails red.

19: Do you like to dance?
Yes, when I am not wearing high heel backless shoes.

Great, all finished...here I come tv and pajamas

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

Lemon trees

I love lemon trees. One of the great things about living in California is that you can grow lemon trees in your backyard. We have several, including one planted in a great big pot that sits on our patio. I love lemon trees so much that last May I painted a life size lemon tree on a wall inside our garage. Why the garage you ask...well, I needed a wall and the garage seemed to call out to me one day. Besides, I enjoy seeing my lemon tree every time I open the garage door. It is kind of fun and makes me smile. Here is a picture of my son and his friend Leo standing next to my faux tree. Leo and Kyle make me smile too.

Always a good day

It is always a good day when I can wear a bright yellow t-shirt with the inscription "Ciao Bella" printed on the front. (An impulse purchase I made at the mall last week. It caught my eye and how could I resist!)

It is always a good day when I can get my left turn signal blinker repaired. (For the past two weeks, every time I prepared to make a left turn, I continued to flip on the blinker only to be reminded AGAIN by the frenetic clicking that the light was STILL out!)

It is always a good day when I can blare Giorgia's "Girasole" on the car speakers while driving. (If you don't know who Giorgia is, you are missing out!)

It is always a good day when I can go to the art store and buy fresh white canvases and big tubes of Cornflower blue and Naples yellow paint. (It is time to paint again!)

Tuesday, February 01, 2005

Bending time

What is going on today? Have the stars realigned, is the earth tilting in a new direction. Has there been a solar flair? Today I was an hour early to pick up my son from practice and an entire week early to a hair appointment. Usually I try to pack more in my day than is humanly possible. I am therefore, always pushing the envelope of time management, which is a decorative way of saying I am perpetually late. Oh, I'm organized, I love making lists, setting goals and getting things accomplished. So, organization or lack there of, is not the issue. Perhaps it is arrogance on my part. I assume I can control time and make it bend to my will. Therefore, I always think there is time for one more task, time to send one more email, or time to make one more change to a website. I am, as a result, always rushing out the door, speeding down the freeway or impatiently waiting at a traffic light. I guess I hate to waste a moment of my day, but in the end cause myself more panic and alarm. But, today, suddenly I find that I am actually ahead of schedule. Ironically my mess up has caused me not to be be late, but to actually be early!

Perfume

Do I like perfume? I would have to answer, not really, no. But there in lies the contradiction, because I do in fact wear a scent every day. So, I guess, I would more acurately have to say that I am very selective about the scent I wear. Generally, most perfumes give me a headache and make me slightly queasy. I can't stand heavy cloying scents or soapy flowery concoctions. What I think smells nice at the department store counter, in fact, becomes odious and odoriferous and I can't wait to scrub it off by the time I get home. But, after persistent trial and error, through the years I have found a few scents that are very nice and seem to compliment me. Always a nice thing to find something or someone that compliments you!

Last August, when I found out that THE one perfume that I truly liked, had been discontinued, I was a bit put out. How could the perfume manufacturers have the nerve to stop producing THE one scent that I like. Quickly getting over myself and the notion that the perfume industry had insulted me personally, I decided that it was time to embark on a quest to find a new scent, one that I could live with in harmony.

I am well aware of the power of scent. A particular scent can bring back a flood of memories and make me recall poignant times in my life, in ways that photographs can not. For instance, every day when I spritz on a certain hair product I use to de-tangle and shine up my hair I am reminded of the Uffizi Gallery in Florence. How odd you say! Yes, it is odd and I really can't explain it. Deciphering the label I see that this particular hair tonic is made with something called "tree oil". Perhaps that is the secret scent that triggers my memory. Maybe at the Uffizi they clean their paintings with tree oil for more brilliance or maybe they mop down the gallery floors with tree oil to make them shine for all the foreign tourists. Well, whatever it is, something in this hair tonic always makes me think about the semester I spent in Florence. All I know, is that for a brief moment, after I wash my hair, when I breath in the aroma of this hair product, I am transported to ambiently lit galleries filled with renaissance paintings, and I can hear the muffled sounds of Florentine traffic and motor scooters in the distance.

I am happy to report, that after test driving many perfumes last summer and making a couple of flawed purchases (that by the way ended up in the trash) I finally found something light, fresh and well suited to my personal chemistry and delicate sensibilities. I found something that would always make me recall the purple shadows falling on the Piazza del Popolo at sunset, during my trip to Rome, in the fall of 2004.