Studio Ruthe

More on the aftermath

I'm feeling much better today. Still look awful; the purple color is moving down my cheeks and around my mouth. Gravity, doing its thing. I just put my contact lenses back in. I've been doing without since Friday and getting along fairly well, but each day my vision has gotten a little worse. The contacts put pressure on my corneas and smooth them out. When I remove the lenses the corneas slowly return to their distorted shape. For instance, I see better at night after a day of contact lens wearing than I will the following morning. Yesterday I was able to go to my stitch class on the bus--no problem. I could probably manage to get to class today on the bus, but I'd like to do some shopping: that requires driving, which I'm afraid to do without the lenses.

The real problem is my glasses. The glasses are progressives and give me the ability to see from near to far. The contacts, like my eyes, are set for far. The glasses still hurt when I wear them. BTW, they came through this largely unscathed. Amazing! There is a tiny scratch on the left lens near the nose piece and the frames are slightly worse for wear. I think they should be readjusted, but not until all the swelling goes down.

Exercise can be dangerous

I'm not really an obsessive personality, but once in a while something will get to me. I think of these things as waking nightmares. When I lived in New Jersey and worked in upstate New York I constantly worried about being hit by a truck as I crossed the George Washington Bridge twice each day. After 9/11 when my Chicago friends asked me if I was worried about a terrorist attack I realized I was much more concerned about those trucks. Over the years I've had a number of these concerns, most of which never materialized.

When I lived in Chicago my concern was about the possibility of getting stuck in Cabrini-Green, one of those notorious housing projects unwisely built very close to the most desirable areas of the city. On New Years Day, 1985, I went to visit a friend, mistakenly sailed past the North Avenue exit of the highway, and foolishly got off at Division Street, putting me right in wrong place. I was driving a VW something; I don't remember the model, and it had an electrical problem that the dealer hadn't been able to find. Needless to say, as I got to the stop sign in the middle of the area, the car stalled. Two men came over and tried to help me--actually, one tried to help--I wasn't sure about the other. The car wouldn't start, they pushed it to the curb, I gave them whatever money I had (about $25) and left as quickly as possible. I also got rid of that car as quickly as possible.

My most recent waking nightmare is about falling: either on my face or breaking something important like a hip. Friday morning, after finishing my tutoring gig at the library, I decided I would take the bus to the Strip if it came before my usual bus. I got there, had a fish sandwich at Benkowitz, went to the Society for Contemporary Craft to see the current exhibit and continued walking to downtown Pittsburgh. It's not very far, about a mile and a half. I got to Penn Station and decided to take the bus on the East Busway, giving me about another half mile walk on the other end to get home.

The area had been newly fixed up. There was a park-like place in front of the building and the walkway leading to the bus stop was newly paved with red brick. I never saw that the pavement was uneven: my foot hit and I went flying, landing on my knees forehead and nose. My glasses cut into my forehead, my nose was broken and I've never seen so much blood except on television.

I laid there for a moment unable to move, decided I'd better do something or I'd be soaked in blood. A man passing by came over to help me. He was wonderful. I'm sure he must have had some EMT training. He helped me sit up then moved me to a shady spot. He picked up the book and jacket I was carrying and helped me take my bag off my shoulder; picked up my hearing aid, which came off when I took the bag off, and found the case for it in my purse; each time showing me and telling me exactly what he was doing. I realized how vulnerable I was and how very fortunate that he had stopped to help me. I wish I knew who he was. I'd like him to know how much I appreciate him.

Someone else called for help. The police showed up, my good samaritan left, the paramedics came. Everyone was great. The paramedics cleaned most of the blood off my arms: I looked like I had been bathing in it. They took me to the ER at Shadyside Hospital (my choice) where I was cleaned up, CT scanned, (fractured my nose), the cut was glued (not a good place for stitches) and Steve and Charna came and took me home. I look terrible--like one of those Kabuki masks you can see here, but I feel OK, even went out for dinner with the kids on Friday night. So, don't worry Carol.

Book update

I've been spending a lot of time working on the Japan book. I want to get it finished before I go to Chicago next month so I can take it with me to show at Art Camp 2. I'm up to December 5 on the computer part--only ten more days to go. The cover art is the real chore.

When I returned from New York I made another photo transfer, since I wasn't satisfied with the first one. The second one was worse, as were the third and fourth. I gave up and went back to the one I thought was just for practice. It has a burn mark just above the tree and some bits of the photo missing from the lower edge. I think I've figured out how to deal with it, but I can't really try my fix until I take the photo off the embroidery hoop. You can see a little of what I'm doing--the picture isn't very good.

I plan to do only the tree: the leaves are French knots and the trunk is a sort of outline stitch.

I've been working on it during a class I'm taking on stitching. One of the other women in the class is married to a book binder. When I mentioned that I planned to glue this to the book board she said something about the glue staining it. I hadn't really given that much thought, until she said it. Serendipity again.

The canvas bag I glued for the China book was no problem because the canvas was so heavy. But the bag lining that I used on the inside of the covers is a light cotton and the glue stained it. This could be a problem with the obi silk; it's heavier than the cotton lining but not as heavy as the canvas. I found this article on the internet and will do something similar.

Brown water in Pittsburgh

Last Friday morning just as I rinsed my toothbrush after finished brushing my teeth, the water coming out of the tap turned brown, along with my electric toothbrush. I don't know what was coming out of the pipes, but there was no way I was putting it into my mouth. I made the mistake of flushing the toilet, which also turned brown. I finshed dressing and prepared to go out--the water was still brown. I put the issue on hold and went to meet the Somali I'm tutoring. We meet at the library. I spoke to two librarians to find out whom I should bitch to. To my great surprise neither seemed troubled by the idea of brown water coming out of the tap. Before I returned home I bought bottled water, which I don't like to use, but I don't know what else to do. I sent an email to the water company and got one of those automated emails telling me they would reply in one to three business days. Time's up.

This is not the first time it's happened. The first night we lived in Pittsburgh, four years ago, brown water came out of the tap. We called the water department and were assured it was OK. What does that mean. An hour ago, I went to wash my hands after I walked in: the water was brown. I decided dirty hands were better.

I don't recall ever having this happen when I lived in Chicago or New Jersey. When someone was working on the plumbing and shut off the water you got a spurt of rusty water lasting only for seconds. This is an entirely different issue. Where do I bitch next: Pittsburgh Post Gazette, Tribune Review or the EPA? Any suggestions?

The ultimate bitch

I found this on a street in NYC, of course. I've been feeling very bitchy--lots to complain about--this expresses it perfectly. My last night in New York really set me up. Renee went to sleep about 10:30, still jet-lagged, and never heard a thing. I got in bed about 11 listening to sirens. New York is always noisy; twenty eight floors up we still hear everything from the street. The sirens and flashing lights continued to such an extent I began to think of 9/11 and finally got out of bed to look. I saw nothing out of the ordinary except for a helicopter hovering overhead, making the flashing light. I tried to turn on the TV, but Verizon has been at work in Renee's apartment and, somehow, I didn't press the secret button combination. Left in the dark, I didn't fall asleep until the copter finally went away, about 1:30.

I'm usually a good sleeper. My last 22 years in Chicago and the subsequent 8 years in New Jersey were spent very near or, in Jersey, next to highways. None of this ever bothered me. It took a helicopter to get me really worked up.

What was it all about? You can read about it here. It involved three police officers, a woman and a pit bull. The helicopter, no doubt, was one of the media outlets. Did they really have to remain there for an hour and a half? There ought to be a law about using those things in heavily populated areas. It was much too close to my building for comfort.

My next post will be about brown water in Pittsburgh. I'm just waiting to see if the water department answers my complaint about that one.

Feeling much better

after two days of misery. Just a bit queasy as I rebalance fluids. I guess I better stop eating in cheap Chinese restaurants, although this could have come from anything. It was one of the few times in my life I didn't want to eat.

Renee and I will be going to the Museum of Art and Design and then to an opening at the Center for Book Arts. Tomorrow morning I get on the train and go home.

Monday, going no where

Woke up feeling awful this morning. Something I ate yesterday is trying to kill me, but I think I'm winning. At least I've opened my eyes, dressed, and have enough energy to sit at the computer.

Continuing my story of last week, I met Rose at the Jewish Museum on Thursday. Knowing we would never be able to look at an exhibit until after we spent time talking, we went down to the cafe, bought coffee and sat for more than an hour, catching up. Then we went upstairs to a marvelous exhibit: They Called Me Mayer July: Painted Memories of a Jewish Childhood in Poland Before the Holocaust. You can see lots of it online. We spent an equally long time looking at the exhibit, then finally went back downstairs for lunch.

I met Rose when I was working on my MA at Fairleigh Dickinson U. We had several classes together and being the older people in the program even though she's considerably younger than me, became friends. She's a young grandmother and very involved with her family. She is also an Orthodox Jew, which sometimes makes it difficult for both of us. In spite of everything we remain fond of each other and enjoy spending time together.

Thursday evening I went to Phyllis's for dinner. She still cooks lovely things and enjoys it, not like me.

Friday morning I walked over to the Guggenheim to see the Frank Lloyd Wright exhibit. Nice show. In the evening I met Ann and Evy for dinner then went to the American Folk Art Museum, primarily to see a quilt show by Paula Nadelstern

Saturday I met C, the daughter of one of my dearest college friends. We had lunch then spent the afternoon walking through Central Park.

Sunday I went down to Chinatown, actually to go to a fabric store where I bought some netting, then had the lunch that probably did me in. Back to the Stitch and Bitch in the evening.

I have now seen all of my New York friends, except three. I'm meeting Mary B for dinner tonight, even if I don't eat, and I imagine I'll get to one of the others, also.

Continuing New York

Monday I went shopping. When Renee was in Pittsburgh she kept telling me my clothes were too big for me. I decided I'd get something new before she came back next week. It's not easy for me to get anything. I've lost weight everywhere but my waistline, making pants very difficult to find. I took a long walk and managed to get a new smaller pair of pants (elastic waist), 2 shirts and a jacket. Jackets are my favorite thing. I have a closetful, mostly too big at this point that I'll try to alter. Still tired from Sunday, I spent the rest of the day at the apartment.

Tuesday I met my friend Phyllis at the Metropolitan Museum. We spent most of our time at a great show of treasures from Afghanistan, had lunch and looked at another couple of exhibits. I especially liked this one on the roof of the museum, a gigantic tree root by Roxy Paine.



In the evening I met Julia and we went to an off-Broadway play about addiction, Dance of the Seven-headed Monkey. It was interesting, but, as with many off-Broadway efforts, needed work. Here are some photos from Times Square.



The indoor ferris wheel at Toys R Us.



Wednesday, after I finished that last post, I met Sybille in Central Park for a walking tour of part of the park neither of us had ever seen. The tour was called Central Park Adirondack. It began near the Harlem Meer and went to 100th St. and Central Park West. Then Sybille and I spent the rest of the afternoon talking, something we do best.


 

Wednesday, and I'm still in NYC

So many things to write and I'm soooo lazy. Going back to Saturday afternoon, Eli had to get to a travel agent and the bank before 3 pm. Nothing like leaving everything to the last minute, but we made it. After the business was finished we met one of his friends from childhood and taxied to the apartment where we finally left the luggage. We both needed some exercise so we walked down to 75th Street looking for an early dinner, and where I've been to two good Turkish restaurants. Friend of Eli is a vegetarian; the Turkish restaurants didn't do it for him. In between those two was a Persian restaurant, Persepolis. It turned out to be a great find--I'm hoping to get back there once more before I leave. Needless to say, having dinner with two good looking young men was very special.

Sunday was busy. Eli went back to JFK for another plane trip. We got on the subway together until we got to the E train. Then he went east and I went south. It's hard saying goodbye. He's been all over the world alone, but I can't help but worry about him.

I went to Brooklyn to look for Julia at a flea market in Dumbo. It's an interesting neighborhood to walk in--mostly old warehouses, some with extensive renovations, many interesting shops, even for me, the non-shopper. The flea market was in a huge, empty lot under the Brooklyn Bridge, next to the Fulton Ferry Park and the river. Here is Julia and customers under Brooklyn Bridge.

Most of the vendors were selling vintage clothing, stuff I gave away long ago. The only thing I found of interest was a sewing chatelaine for $170. Too much money, not enough interest.

 

More flea market.

 

Empire State Building from under Manhattan Bridge

 

Decorated fence in Dumbo

 

Brooklyn Bridge I never walked across last year, from Fulton Ferry Park. When I couldn't walk across the bridge last year I knew I was really sick and got the pacemaker.

Having had enough of the flea market I walked back toward the subway and had another one of those amazing New York experiences. Housed within a small storefront area was Jane's Carousel, a restored 1922 carousel that will be placed in a pavillion in the park. Read about it and see pictures here.

Next to the carousel was Jacques Torres ice cream, obviously perfectly placed for me.

After a short rest back at the apartment I went to Chelsea to meet up with my photographer friend, Jacqueline Hassink and another of her friends. She had been in Japan again and had new photos to show me. She told me she will return to Japan in April to photograph cherry blossoms. She is trying to tempt me to join her. It is very tempting. I am not finished with Japan.

To complete this busy day I went to Teaneck, New Jersey, to meet with my stitch and bitch group I haven't seen for two years. That was a great delight. Much has happened in the two years and it was fun catching up.