growing curious

the girls in my office...

I have seven co-workers in my office.  I know you think I work alone, but I get help.  Or, ummm...  I share space with some others.  Sometimes they help, and sometimes they're just out for fun.

There are the angstgrrls... Sometimes they gossip and share stories about going dancing on the weekends.  I always feel left out of these conversations about weekend fun, but I admire their sass and how they thrive on being "different."  The knitted-in-knots, felted girl is a lot like me.  She has some bulges and old wounds that have been felted over by wear.  She has great hair (which I don't have, but I admire hers).  We have lots of great conversations, and then she just tosses her hair around like Willow Smith or something, and her life is all better again.

 

Then there is Raggedy Ann, who has been through so much and always smiles.  She isn't very smart, but she is kind.  I like her.  She had some trauma once in the attic, but she survived.    Next to Ann are the two lovely, pouty, naughty girls an old friend made me hire. 

 

As you can see, one of these girls is trying to jump down off the basket...

 

Who knows where she's going.  Maybe off to eat the frozen blueberries or to push Scrabble letters into the couch cushions downstairs.

Who do you work with?

rothko, pickles, new york

The Portland Art Museum will host an exhibit of Mark Rothko's work from February 28th - May 27th.  I'm very excited to take E. to this show.  We love to go to the Museum, and she has a fondness for big color and abstract art.

Thinking about this show reminds me about the Pickle Field Trip I took to NYC in fall of 2010.  I hadn't been back to NYC since I left there in 1993, so the trip was a very "emotionally loaded" business trip. 

The business goals of the trip:  to research different East Coast pickling techniques,  to glean ideas for scaling up my production, to visit new and long-established companies, to learn how those companies marketed their products.  Although the trip was patched together at the last minute when I found a great airline fare, I was able to accomplish all of those business goals and then some.  It was a very productive research trip.

My personal goals for the trip:  to walk around, visit my old neighborhood, to see a dear friend, to feel New York City again, and to visit some museums.  I was thirsty for art.  I needed it like minerals or vitamins. I felt parched and drained of hope and couldn't live another day without drinking up some art.  The Portland Art Museum is wonderful, but I needed to be somewhere absolutely saturated in art.

Even though I expected to be moved at MoMA, I didn't expect that I would burst into tears as soon as I walked off the elevator at the top floor.  I was overwhelmed.  Paintings and sculptures that I knew so well from books were right there.  My knees went weak, and I plopped down on a bench and just bawled.  To be so thirsty and then to be quenched in just the right way...  it was just one of the greatest experiences of my whole life.  And I'm so glad I was there by myself so that I could just feel it all in my own way.

 

 

And I think about this because I was particularly drawn to the Rothko pieces at MoMA that day -- just letting that color wash over me.  I liked getting close to the blocks of color and seeing the textures and looking carefully at where the colors touched each other.  I liked standing back from the paintings and letting my eyes go out of focus a bit, like I do in the forest when I'm hiking and want to see all those different greens at once.

I knew that Rothko had grown up in Portland so I wasn't surprised that I was drawn to his paintings that day at MoMA.  That kind of saturated color and the "line" he used to create shapes comes from someone who knows rain, gray skies, and moss that shimmers softly on top of harder shapes.

And thinking about the Pickle Field Trip makes me happy.  That was a good trip.  I was able to see clearly what I still so love about NYC and to understand in a more compassionate way why I had to leave there. I accomplished so much in that week -- both professionally and personally.  

It is okay not to fit in.  It is okay to be outside.  If you're in a pickle, just start making them.

 

winter weed salad

I love going out into the garden in winter to search for little bits of deliciousness.  Here is what will be in our salad tonight:

At 12:00 and 1:00 -- a stalk of overwintered celery.

At 2 and 3 -- bittercress/popweed, pleasing texture and tastes like a sweet arugula.

At 4 and 5 -- wild mustards, arugula, radish leaves.

At 6 --  overwintered frizee and sweet, cucumbery chickweed.

At 7 -- two slender leek scapes.

At 9 and 10 -- curly lettuce.

At 11 -- lemony sorrel.

In the center:  red chicory.

I'm going to leave some of these whole, and I will chop the stronger-flavored things into fine ribbons.  I'll dress them with lemon, olive oil, garlic, pepper, and salt (from most to least).  We'll have it with a garbanzo bean stew and some whole wheat pita bread.

Really, I can't get over how much food there is out in the garden right now.  I harvested celery I need for the stew and 4 pounds of broccoli raab.  I notice the motherwort and borage coming back again, and the garlic is coming up nicely.   I am so grateful.

 

 

permission to play?

I got my hair cut on Wednesday at a Great Clips on the other side of town.  That's a story to tell maybe later.  But all of a sudden you can see my face, my eyes, and my ears.  You know?

I have made most of the earrings I wear.  In a previous life, I made jewelry and had some of it in a gallery.  That was before I moved to NYC.  So long ago.  Another life ago.  I always look at earrings in stores, but I can't afford to buy what I like for myself.  I have a preference for a certain kind of earthy, dangly earring that swings a bit.

I haven't made new earrings in years, even though I have started wearing different colors and certainly now have hair that is a different color.  Every time I get dressed for the outside world, I say, "You need to make new earrings, Crazy Lady."  I've been saying that a couple of times a week for years -- since before baby E (now 7) yanked my earrings out when we played. 

So today I sat down and made some earrings!  Do you know how hard it was for me to give myself permission to let the chores slide and not make another to-do list for Curious Farm business stuff?

I spread out my work on the dining room table near all the windows so that I could use the natural light.  (Again...  to give myself permission to make a mess on the big table...  things have gotten that bad lately.)    I tried to remember how to work the pliers.  I got to feel and admire Molten Mama's gorgeous lampwork beads again and made a pair of earrings with two of them.  (These earrings are in the center of the photo.  My treat after my first farmers market season was to buy a few of Lisa's beads, and I will make a necklace from the rest.)    I needed a pair of purple-ish earrings so I made them.  I needed another green-ish pair so I made those, too.  Empowering!  The beads and findings cost money, but the result is better than what I can afford right now. 

And I have new ideas for the special necklace I will make from Lisa J Cooley's Molten Mama beads.

How rare and fine to have an afternoon like this!