Studio Ruthe

Back to school

My new semester started this morning with another cooking class: Food from Africa. We got some information about vegetables grown in Nigeria, then a demonstration of how to prepare and fry plaintains, and finally, a chance to taste the results. I love these classes even though I seldom cook--just enjoy watching someone else do it. And eating the results, of course.

I'm taking another Japanese Art History class that met for the first time this afternoon. This one is called Space and Place in Asian Art. Sitting there, thinking about the use of space in Japanese art, I realized my likes and dislikes of Japanese gardens had to do with the use of space. The gardens I didn't particularly like had huge, broad lawns. The ones I loved made use of densely designed space. I am anxious to see whether I can refine my ideas as the class progresses.

Speaking of cooking, you who know me will be amazed to hear I cooked something tonight. In a weak moment, probably five months ago, I bought a package of frozen swordfish steaks from Trader Joes. You can tell how anxious I was to cook it. Finally, I knew I had to do it, or else throw it out. I browned the fish on both sides on top of the stove (an old electric with burners that slope at various angles). Then five minutes in a 450 oven to finish it. Doused with lots of lemon juice, it was good. Because of the way they were packaged all three pieces had to be cooked at the same time. Now I have one very large piece and one small piece left over. You know some of this will be thrown out. This is why I don't usually cook.

Silence and another good thing

I forgot how much I enjoy silence. The world is noisy; silence rare. And too often I turn on the radio or TV, just for company, or to drown out my tinnitus. I seldom really listen. One afternoon I walked home through Mellon Park and suddenly heard silence. The dogs that run loose while owners stand around talking were not there. It was just me and the squirrels and trees--not even traffic sounds and I can't recall the tinnitus. Totally wonderful.

The next day, driving out of the garage after the cardio rehab, I had a similar experience. I could only hear a soft purr from the car and a rhythmic slap as the tires hit expansion joints. What a joy it would be to permanently get rid of that noise in my head.

Another pleasure: Saturday night, Steve's cactus produced it's occasionally, yearly blossom.

We don't know anything about the cactus. It's a cutting from a large plant that belonged to Steve's father. The cutting was dormant for many years then suddenly began to grow. About seven years ago it began to produce one or more flowers one night each summer (with the exception of last year). The flower opens only once. Although various flying insects visit it, no fruit or seed is produced.

A little more country and the big city

For more pictures and stories about our “art camp” in Door County, see Jan’s blog and Sandy’s blog. Anita has a brand new blog where you can see her work. 

Sandy sent this wonderful thank you note: Special thanks to Anita for all her hospitality and the use of her home and studio.  Special thanks to Kathy for her hospitality.  I'm sorry you weren't up to all we did, but it was good being with you.  Because of you we know about such glorious places as the Garden Gate and got to dine on such good asparagus.

Special thanks to Ruthe for all her help putting the blog together.....and especially this year adding Picasa to my computer.  What a blessing that was in doing this blog!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  And thanks to Ruthe also for all her excellent instruction on the books, and for the "Paper in Three Dimensions" book.  Thanks to Jan, our worthy Best of Show, all the blood, sweat and talent who kept everyone laughing.I'm a richer woman for the experience of last week.  Loving you all, Sandy

At breakfast with Eli this morning I said I would not want to move back here. Walking downtown afterwards I could feel the power and energy of the city and realized I still loved it. The sun was shining; lots of people on the streets; the city looked wonderful. Once I knew every building, every alcove and alley. Now there are many surprises. Walking toward the Daley Center I stopped to take a picture. Someone came over to me and said the Stanley Cup was there. I could stand in line to have my picture taken with it, or just take a picture of it. It’s there, somewhere, behind the Picasso sculpture.

 

Walking near the Chicago River and the Opera House.  

Wabash Avenue with Chicago's Trump Tower in the distance. 

My destination was the Cultural Center, one of my favorite places. I saw an exhibit of jewelry made with handmade paper by Arte Papel Oaxaca. Unfortunately there was no catalog, they wouldn’t let me take photos and there is only this one article I could find on the web. I’d love to show you more, or better, I‘d like to go and be part of the collective.

An exhibit about Louis Sullivan, the architect, was also very interesting; lots of photos and information. 

A newly created space within the Center is Project Onward, a studio and gallery for artists with mental and developmental disabilities. There was a lot of good work and a lot going on within the studio. I was much impressed. 

Back to the city

Back at Sandy’s in Arlington; filled with swirling, unstructured thoughts, about bookmaking, about my friends, about the week, and about me. I feel so much better when I have people around me and lots of challenges. All week I was much younger than my 76 years. My hip still aches and sometimes I have trouble walking, but I was happy and nothing bothered me. 

Being teacher for the week was a great pleasure and I was sorry to see it end. We left Anita’s about 11 am and drove south on the scenic route, sailing past the ice cream store but stopping at The Flying Pig, a combined garden center and gallery of outsider art, great things to look at and charming ladies running the it. What a great place!

Sunday morning, the sun shone briefly on too much heat and humidity for 8 am, then thunder and lightning filled the sky. After the storm was over, I drove over to Carol, not far away. Family day, or, at least, family afternoon. Carol invited some of my cousins for lunch. It’s a kind of family reunion each year when I come back here, but each year our numbers grow smaller. This year’s theme seems to be a recounting of all the people we’ve lost. Many of my friends in Chicago were older and long gone. It made it easier for me to leave Chicago thirteen years ago. Did I mention, this is nostalgia trip time? 

In Chicago with good friend Betty and feeling very lucky. Found a parking space a block away at 6:05 Sunday night. From 6 pm a permit is required for parking. Could I get to Betty’s, get the permit and get back to the car before the cops came? Decided I couldn’t give up the space, so I really scurried. The cop was there when we returned, busy with someone else. Very lucky. Found two parking spaces Monday night. Didn’t like the first one. Very, very lucky. 

We went out to Rockford to see a Japanese garden. Do you think I’m obsessed? Rockford is about 2 hours away; I’ve only been there once before, many years ago, before the Japanese garden was built, and long before I cared about Japanese gardens. The garden was lovely; worth the drive, but somehow American Japanese gardens are never as satisfying as Japanese Japanese gardens. It has something to do with the trees.

 

    

Back to the big city and cell phones, traffic and noise

This is our last morning in Door County. It's been a great trip. Not only have we all been productive, 

we went to a wonderful play (Tom Stoppard's Heroes) visited two spectacular gardens and spent some time at Kathy's house in the woods. Only Sandy, Jan and I came up this year; Sue couldn't make it. Kathy joined us part of the time, but she hasn't been well and didn't have energy for all of it. So this year it was three of us and Anita, our hostess.

We went back to the Garden Door, the master garden we visited last year, but the really spectacular treat was Overbeck's, a nearby private home and garden. This is a living work of art; the garden and the house being embellished with mosaics, stained glass and carved wood in amazing, tasteful ways, not at all exemplified by that website. 

Between the book workshop last week and art camp this week it's been the best two weeks I've had all year. Nothing like a little stimulation to make me forget all of my health problems. My week in Chicago should be equally good.

What a week!

We worked all day Tuesday, Wednesday morning and part of today with great results. Tomorrow we'll have show and tell with pictures. Here are some pictures from the week:

  
 Jan hard at work

 

My workspace. I hate to admit it looks a lot like my workspace at home.

The studio.

Looking back at the house.  
 
 Looking toward the lake.

 

   

  The house.

Of course, all was not work. Here are Jan and Sandy exercising.

 

 

More snow!

We have had more snow in February than in all of Pittsburgh's recorded history. It's not a record I'm enjoying. I stayed home most of yesterday; today I'm going to a film about Japanese kamikaze pilots. It's being shown at a school about 2.5 miles from here. I plan to try walking. I can always get on a bus, but walking would be good. I got two good walks in last week. It all depends on whether the sidewalks have been shoveled.

Pittsburgh has a law about pavements being shoveled within 24 hours.  After the big storm, now four weeks ago, the city suspended the law along with any other intelligent ideas about dealing with the snow. (Sometimes I think the mayor has suspended intelligence.) This time the city said walks have to be shoveled--tomorrow. I'll see how far I can get walking.

Here is another picture I put together yesterday. It's from a garden in Nikko, called Shoyoen, behind the Rinnoji Temple.

Beautiful, sunny morning

I got in a good walk. It's supposed to snow again later, and maybe tomorrow. I've been spending a lot of time working on that Gigapan. Sometimes it's extremely frustrating, but then equally satisfying when something works out. Learned lots more about Photoshop. I don't own the latest and greatest, which is what I'm using at the university, but help files for several versions are online. Very satisfying to learn all the new stuff.

Back at home I'm working on the Japanese Garden Book. Decided on format and layout design. For the most part content will be my photos and info from the Internet; layout is very important to me. I've decided to make it 8.5 x 14, with the width being 14". I've completely the pages for the gardens I visited in Tokyo, about 50 pages. I'm very nostalgic about it all and contemplating another trip. Stay tuned!

Many of the photos I took never got published, in the blog or in the book. So this is my opportunity to published most more of them. On many occasions I took what I hoped were multiple, overlapping pics. I've been sorting them out and putting them together in Photoshop. 

 
 
 

New project

The next book I make will be about Japanese Gardens, at least the ones I've visited. I'm still enchanted with the gardens. I would like to return to Japan and remain from October through April or May so I could see the gardens at the most interesting times. It probably won't happen, but working on another book lets me enjoy the photos and memories all over again. Here are three collages using some of the photos from Rikugien, the Tokyo garden where I met the origami lady. Most of these photos were not posted before.

I never took multiple Gigapan-like photos as I did in my backyard, so I can't make that kind of collage. Only the one immediately above comes anywhere close to it. I want to immerse you in my view of the garden. I don't think any of these are really successful; I'll keep trying.

Garden as art

There was a story this morning, on public radio, about Pearl Fryar of Bishopville, S.C., who has a topiary garden, pruning trees into amazing shapes. He compares pruning a tree to painting a picture.

Some of the story mirrors ideas about Japanese gardens, but the results are totally different. "(H)e imagines what his elaborate topiaries will look like in a decade." Japanese gardeners begin with an idea of what each tree should look like and work toward that ideal, sometimes over generations. The Japanese are fortunate to have many people who will continue their tradition. Fryar, who will be 70 next month, is searching for someone to train, who will follow in his footsteps.