I SPY WITH MY LITTLE EYE ...

... the Capital's crown

The US Capitol Dome
sandwiched by gritty overpasses

...  starlight in a capsule

Leo Villareal's "Multiverse"
moving light sculpture at the
Concourse tunnel, National Gallery of Art

...  a sky aquarium

Alexander Calder's mobile, "Untitled",
in the National Gallery of Art's East Building Atrium

... shapes nestled in shapes

Ellsworth Kelly's colored paper images
leading to more Alexander Calder works
at the National Gallery of Art

... a rainbow menagerie 

Alexander Calder rooms in the
National Gallery of Art

... YELLOW! and red

Clyfford Still canvas
National Gallery of Art

... yellow and red underground

Washington, DC's futuristic Metro stations

... brown, baby ducks above ground

Mama and baby ducks by the
Reflecting Pool in Washington Mall

... a gated community with a view

The ducks' perspective of
the Washington Monument

... a monumental task

Scaffolding on the Washington Monument
for earthquake repairs

... and most importantly, monumental acts.

The Lincoln Memorial,
my favorite for its profound significance.
The Gettysburg Address is inscribed along the walls.

These photos were way overdue from my Washington, DC trip.  But since when did I care about chronology in this blog?

Wishing you all wonderful summers.

ISLAND LIFE

Gone on vacation.  At least, my mind has.

The tropical islands have been my inspiration for a new design project.  But contrary to an idyllic retreat, the past few weeks have resembled typhoon season.  Tossed sketches overflow in the waste bin.  GPS routes trace a maelstrom.  Unattended laundry floods the hamper.  Even my neglected hair was a tsunami of overgrown layers.  (That is, until yesterday, when I could stand it no longer and took to the scissors.)

Inspiration: island living
I never dared sparkly, blue toes before but dreaming of turquoise waters spurred me on!

In other words, it's been great fun!  I love creative whirlwinds.  And the tempest is primarily caused by my deadline -- next month's vacation.  Looking so forward to seeing family and friends in the island archipelago we call home.  Like I said, my mind is already there.

Selecting possible materials for the bathroom remodel:
Pebbles, glass mosaics, and textured porcelain tiles.

Ahh, you can take the girl out of the tropics but you can't take the tropics out of the girl.  All my design visions begin with clean, modern lines.  But often, my Asian sense of the organic seeps in to soften the edges.  Perhaps that's why thoughts of pebbles and stones and a hint of turquoise waters have trickled into this re-modeling job.  

Nature is barely kept outdoors here, so it's made sense to continue the theme indoors.  And I know I'll be scouring the woods outside to find just the right bare branches to lean against the tiles.

A willowy Peppertree presents swaying branches
outside the two bathroom windows

Would you call that Modern Exotic?  Or Contemporary wabi-sabi?

At home by the trees and water.
I was running around town in 95-degree heat!

Either way, shouldn't we all design with our roots in mind?  Or at least, reflect who we are in our surroundings? Otherwise, there's no context or connection.  Just like purchasing some mass produced object from a Mall.

Last week, visiting friends were asking about objects in the house, from furniture to daily wares.  I shared how most have a personal meaning -- picked up from our travels, passed down through family, created by a friend, and so on.  I savor an everyday life infused with memories and sensations.  And, whenever anyone asks about something, there's usually a story to tell ...

What materials do you like to surround yourself with?


***************

An aside:  For the young ones who think Mathematics has no bearing on daily life, think again.  Euclidean Geometry is profound.  It's the best way to calculate if a round tub fits in a corner, or if an oval one can rest diagonally across it.  Both calculations for this project yielded "no"!

AUTUMN BOUQUET

Forget my laments to bring back summer.  My attitude has turned along with the leaves.  I love Autumn!

Perhaps our nephew's wedding in Colorado had something to do with it.  Denver's picturesque foothills were painted over in russets, greens, and golds.  The bridal party's yellow ochres blended right in.  I wish I could post my shots from the wedding but I can't.  I will, however, share the radiant bride's brooch bouquet below.  Have you ever seen anything like it?

The Bride's Brooch Bouquet
I've never seen anything like it!

The estate where the wedding was held kept its historic charm.  Here's a glimpse of the mansion, The Manor House.  It was built in 1914 for a self-made millionaire, John Shaffer, whose modest beginnings were as a boot black.  His 28,000 acre cattle ranch used to surround this Manor House. Shaffer was also the editor-publisher of the Chicago Tribune and brought the arts to both Chicago and Denver.  This Manor House proudly entertained the likes of Presidents Theodore Roosevelt and William Howard Taft -- and now us!

The Manor House, Colorado
snapped from the car as we drove up the hill

But back to the wedding.  Our nephew, the jazz trumpeter, serenaded his Bride up the aisle with his originally-composed fanfare.  (I have a wonderful photo of him and his trumpet in the sunset.)  His band friends, mostly brass, encircled the guests on the hilltop.  So all those golden notes filled the brisk air, coating it in autumn sunshine.  To top it all, the vows were poems written or sung by the couple.  I just love weddings which truly reflect the couple's nature.

Our nephew and niece are decidedly outdoorsy, opting to give up the urban diversions of New York City, where they both attended graduate school, to move back to Colorado.  Fittingly, the pre-wedding Rehearsal Dinner was held at another scenic location, the Denver Botanic Gardens.  My camera lens fogged up on that cold, rainy evening.  But I did catch some amusing sights, like this fork in the road ...

Metaphor for life's choices?

... or this benign looking "Corn Maze" entrance -- which unexpectedly sprawls into an eight-acre corn field.  I lost my husband in it after he took some little kids in to the "maze".  They didn't surface for hours!  Luckily, there was cherry pie to reward the muddy, little troupers afterwards.  But perhaps, the kids thought it was one big adventure, and it was really just my husband who was concerned amidst the endless corn stalks.

Corn Maze needs to include "Bermuda Triangle" warning!

I took over 400 photos of family during this lovely excursion into Autumn.  I regret I can only share a handful, and not the most beautiful ones either.  This was my last look from the car as we drove to the airport, back to lush, green California.

Leaving my brother in-law's neighborhood
right by a horse ranch

Or so I thought.  Just today, I was out on a morning run in the hills. Amber leaves lined the dirt trail at my feet.  Autumn must have followed us home.

What is it like where you are?

NAPOLEON COMPLEX

These have got to be my favorite summertime platforms to teeter in.

Sandals: Joe's (maker of Joe's Jeans)

OK, 5-inches may speak "Napoleon Complex".  Totally overcompensating.  But what I think they're really saying, with wood, leather, hemp -- and strips of aqua like exclamation points -- is "Summer"!


These really are too perilous for the pool deck (understand why I'm not in the picture?).  But I find I can gingerly manage dinner or a movie.  The rest of the time, I'm more down to earth.  Five inches down to be exact, in flip flops.


Here I am right before I headed to the public library yesterday to borrow some DVDs (yes, still old-fashioned here).  Notice the sliding doors behind me?  We had initially intended to build a deck out there.  Then, we realized no balcony should obstruct our hillside vista.  I mean, Romeo and Juliet could still have wooed through a window had the view of Verona dictated it, right?

Sandals: Joe's
Dress: Sugarlips
T-shirt: Michael Stars

So, we are left with a giant picture window instead, and a cliff beyond.  For safety, we were required to bolt the door and (essentially) throw away the key.  We're quite pleased with the outcome.  The only thing I miss is being able to sweep straight outdoors or shake off a rug like some medieval housekeeper.

The sandals wanted to enjoy the view from the deck.

Meanwhile, we finally finished the pool deck which overlooks the hills and some vineyards too.  (We did get our deck after all.)  See the dry, south-facing hills there?  We are fortunate to be in the verdant, north-facing side of the mountains.  Yet I love seeing the contrast across of parched land surrounded by lush countryside.  That's Northern California for you.

How is everyone's summer holiday going so far?  I hope everyone is enjoying life on the slower lane, if only for a month or two.

WHAT IN THE WORLD?

When I was a little kid, I looked forward to my National Geographic Kids subscription with great anticipation every month.  My favorite part:  the "What in the World?" puzzles!  The page would be full of strange images, and my job as underage sleuth would be to figure out what it was.

I've felt like a kid all summer and seem to be seeing everything from the sand box eye view.  The following are my close encounters of the L.A. kind.




This zebra has opted to sit out extinction at the La Brea Tar Pits.

At the La Brea Tar Pits
Home of Ice Age fossil excavations.

If it rained golden, alien licorice, this might be what it would be like.

At the LACMA
(Los Angeles County Museum of Art)

Imagine Narnia with more than one of these, and Lucy Pevensie might have bumped into Mr. Tumnus in this forest.

In front of the LACMA
(Los Angeles County Museum of Art)

I was caught in this titanium vortex.  My experience inside was equally mind-blowing.

At the Walt Disney Concert Hall
Architect: Frank Gehry

I hope you view it with as much wonder as I did coming upon them.

I've been having a lovely summer spent mostly outdoors with family and friends.  As such, my computer keyboard has been missing my fingers.  But I do plan to pop into your blogs soon to say hello!

WHERE THE AIR IS CLEAR

Summer sunshine followed us on vacation to LA -- with a healthy dose of Angeleno smog.

Good thing the air is always clear at the Getty Center.  Its hilltop perch happily looks down onto LA's carbon blanket.  (For my previous posts on the Getty, see:  Shadows and the Getty and Shadows, Lines and Blue Sky.)

I've been to the Getty several times and love it for the new things I discover with each visit.  This time, there was something desert oasis about it.  The colors of the stone and sky reminded me of some city in a middle eastern kingdom I'd never been to.

Or ruins in the eastern mediterranean, like the ancient Roman Library at Ephesus (which I have been to).

But, these were no ruins.  This is modern architecture at its most stunning, molded into the Santa Monica mountains in LA:  A house for art.  A frame for views.

It actually begins with a sense of anticipation as you ride the Getty train up the steep hill to the Center.  Or maybe go even further back, to the winding drive from West Hollywood, up tree-lined Sunset Boulevard, which takes you through the tony neighborhoods of Beverly Hills and Westwood.  It's a gorgeous drive.

Once at the Getty, I always find fresh perspectives on Richard Meier's (the architect's) lines and geometries.

You may sense the scorching sun in these parts.  They actually lend out shade umbrellas at various points around the Center.  However, I much preferred these Japanese-looking flower parasols cooling the garden.

And this welcome stream which terminates into a waterfall.

Anyway, I was busy looking at the ever-changing exhibits -- from the French decorative arts, to Herb Ritts' sophisticated photography -- so I wasn't out in the garden too much.  Besides, my trusty Panama hat kept me cool.  

Right here, I turned around from the view to discover a reflective window.  Ha, finally a fuzzy self-portrait!  Hmm, there must be some philosophical significance to this.  Like "finding myself" ...?

We were traipsing around LA for several days and the Getty was just one of the stops.  For those who think LA is just about Hollywood, time for another think.  There are really some wonderful cultural institutions -- beyond pop culture -- in the city of Angels.

How is everyone's summer going so far?  I hear England isn't having much of one lately.  So, sending a bit of California sunshine your way.

WOMEN ON THE VERGE

"Indeed, I would venture to guess that Anon, who wrote so many poems without signing them, was often a woman."
                                                --- Virginia Woolf, A Room of One's Own

I am no scholar in women's studies, so the following are merely foolish observations.


My recent readings seem to be set in periods of great change for women. And so, my thoughts have been inching along that timeline, from the late 19th through the early 20th century:  a rather progressive period for women.  In part, propelled by men (thanks to Charles Dana Gibson's satirical illustrations).  And of course, in part, by women.

Where do we go from here?
Dress: Sugarlips

The 19th century Gibson Girls were a plucky bunch:  educated, athletic, dominant.  I could learn a thing or two!  The next generation did, and went beyond. Corsets were discarded. Victorian mores were questioned.  The movement for women's suffrage intensified.  By the 1920s, Flapper ladies had bared their limbs and declared: if men can do it, women can do it too.  (Quite to the horror of the traditional population.)

What are we reaching for now?
Dress: Sugarlips

So I was thrilled when Sugarlips sent me this delicate, crocheted dress above, reminiscent of a Jazz Age tea dress.  It seemed ready to step into a Gatsby garden party.  My hat is of the '70s floppy variety, but I had in mind the big, flowered hats from La Belle Époque, sliding time's ruler back on the outfit, if only in thought.  (I could have stretched it centuries forward with a Balenciaga Darth Vader hat if I had one.)

House of Lanvin
"Roseraie" dress
1923
Photo: The Met Museum

As I was trawling the web, I came upon this lovely "Roseraie" dress from the House of Lanvin in 1923.  It was inspired by Art Nouveau and the Paris Exposition latticework.  What better way to show that Change does not occur in isolation.  Historic developments are accompanied by tectonic shifts in art, architecture, literature, science, and so on.  This time span was seismically driven on various fronts by women such as Gertrude Stein, Virginia Woolf, Marie Curie, or Jeanne Lanvin and Coco Chanel ...  along with the great men who orbited their worlds.  

I can see now what Woolf meant about the prolific Anonymous being, perhaps, female throughout time.  What do you think?

***

Thank you to Sugarlips for the lovely gift.

Note to readers: I stand by the independence of this blog.  Any outfits featured are present because they somehow connect with me and my taste, not because I am paid to promote them.

UNDER THE TUSCAN SUN

Well, it wasn't exactly Tuscany, but close enough.

I was at an art party at an artist's Mediterranean-style villa in the Santa Cruz mountains, and the setting sun was glorious.  We may as well have been under the Tuscan sun.  (Caveat: I've never read the book nor seen the film.  I just thought it made a good title!)

From the second floor window
of the artist's villa

Except for a quick hello, I didn't get a chance to talk much to the artist, Gordon Smedt, about his work.  He did have about a 100 guests to entertain, an amalgam of people related to art or clients/buyers.  But I could see his affinity for everyday objects, particularly clothing, and his enjoyment of dappled light and shadow. With his house all bathed in sunshine, it wasn't difficult to understand.

Painting called "Sisters".
Lots of ladies were in fashionable summer maxis,
but this guest in her printed tunic
and fringe purse caught my eye.
Another lady came in a polka dot dress
as a nod to the painting.

I think the painting I related most to was the one of empty shopping bags.  It spoke to me of society's materialism.   Why do we amass so many objects, leaving a wake of shopping bags behind us?  (That's a personal interpretation -- borne of guilt?  I didn't get to ask him about it.)

I don't know what this one is called
but he has another one,
with new upright bags, called "Harvest"

My friend and I, who had been invited as part of an arts non-profit we're involved in, enjoyed wandering through the grounds, wine glasses in tow.  There were two art studios outside the main house, a tennis court, flowered pergola and gardens.

My friend, T, who is an artist and videographer,
and looks far too young to have a
son in fashion design in NYC!

The balcony above is right off the Master Suite
and the lower wing houses the kids' rooms

The living room opens up to the gardens and hillside views.

Perhaps I'm just nosy, but I do enjoy lifting the veil and going behind-the-scenes.  So, it was a treat to peek into the artist's main studio.  It was an ideal working environment: nestled in the trees but awash in natural sunlight.

Paint-splattered table in the studio
hosting my wine glass instead of paint brushes.

I think artist's paint-smeared surfaces are as interesting as their deliberate works.  They carry the history of spilled materials and diverse experiments, suspending time through the colorful stains left behind.

Painting subjects jumbled together.
He does sometimes glue them together
to make his compositions.

The timing was perfect because the evening sun cast interesting shadows.

The shadow brought to mind a dachshund version of the scooter.

It was sometimes difficult to distinguish art objects from the everyday ones -- both equal fodder for his paintings.

I loved the kids' fire engine and other toy vehicles,
perhaps art objects as much as useful playthings,
scattered around the tennis court.

We found the menfolk admiring vintage and sports cars outside the villa!  Big boys and their big toys ...

We decided to leave around dusk before it got too dark on the winding roads.

Waning light as dusk approached

This last glimpse of the house here, through the trees, with a single lamp lighting the path, rather felt like a storybook moment to me.  "Long, long ago, deep in the heart of the forest, an enchanted house was patiently waiting ..."   I'm sure many of you could spin a tale from this image.

My last look as we left

It was a very pleasant evening out.  I'm glad my friend twisted my arm to take me, even arresting any final resistance by offering to drive.  My schedule had already prevented me from attending the private tour for our non-profit last week, led by the artist.  Fortunately, this was an evening engagement.  And I never want to miss an appointment with the setting sun in spectacular surroundings!


For more information on the art and artist, you can visit the artist's site: www.gordonsmedt.com