Castroville, CA

I’ve been away from the blog for too long!

I’m very sorry. I’m going to try not to do that again.

We were in California last week. But that’s no excuse. There was much to write about from there. I’m going to start with Castroville, the artichoke center of the world. Did you ever? What? You've been there? Why didn't anyone tell me about this?

flickr image from Trois Têtes

One of the stunning things about California is how different it is as you drive north. We landed in Santa Barbara, which equates to paradise visually. We drove north to the central coast region – to San Luis Obispo and the Solvang wine country area, where the movie “Sideways” was filmed.

This part of California is gloriously beautiful! More on that later.

We continued north to Monterey and Big Sur.

More on that later too, come to think of it.

On the way to Monterey, we passed through Castroville. All I could think about was John Steinbeck and his novels that were set in this region: East of Eden, Cannery Row, and countless others.

A treasure trove of info on all things Steinbeck is here.

His novel East of Eden opens with his description of the vast green agricultural valley that is situated alongside rocky and windswept Monterey Bay.

The Salinas Valley is in Northern California.

It is a long narrow swale between two ranges of mountains

and the Salinas River twists up the center until it falls at last into Monterey Bay.

It’s incredible to drive through this. The fields stretch on as far as you can see—fields of lettuce, strawberries, and artichokes. I thought of the centuries of families who’ve worked these fields, and how each of them had a story. You can’t help thinking like that when you see a place like this in the United States. And of course that’s what Steinbeck wrote about -- regular people rubbing up against nature, their towns, and their own spirits.

Enough booky stuff. I found some gorgeous photos on flickr that capture the workers in the way I want you to think of them. As we drove through on a Sunday morning, there they were, bent at the waist, working just like this. It made my back and my heart hurt seeing them.

flickr image from Lauren Murphy

flickr image from Lauren Murphy

I had several up close encounters with artichokes, which, by the way I’m craving now, so I need to end this soon, too much drooling is happening.

One encounter in the fields,

and a much more intimate one the the grill at the farmer’s market in San Luis Obispo.

As for Castroville, it’s a spotless town that looks like a step back in time with its old dusty buildings and wide streets. It's mysterious and exotic in its worship of the artichoke.

Marilyn Monroe was the once the queen of the yearly artichoke festival parade, you know.

I discovered a beautiful website about the yearly festival. Look at the cool posters! I must get one. I'm off to decide which one. Don't miss the recipe part of that website either.

More on Cali tomorrow.

ps It's pretty evocative of my state of mind right now that I'm blogging all about California, but in 24 days or so, I'm moving to New York.

Masahiro Chatani

For a person of my age, the internet is a never-ending memory jogging device. (Maybe there's an oxymoron in there somewhere.) I'm always stumbling upon something that was a part of my past, that I'd forgotten all about. Often it's something that was a BFD to me at one time. How could I have forgotten all this stuff?

That's another topic.

In the 80s, when I was teaching in Minneapolis, I found a greeting card at the Walker Art Center that mesmerized me. It turned out to be the work of a brilliant architect and paper artist named Masahiro Chatani.

I began buying more of his cards, then found this book to use with my students, and we became pop-up- aholics.

I can't find the book. I'd forgotten it existed. Now, of course I want it. And all the cards. All gone. I have a vague memory of giving the whole business away to someone. If it was you, call me.

Masahiro Chatani was a newly-appointed professor at the Tokyo Institute of Technology in the early 80s when he started experimenting with designing greeting cards. According to Wikipedia: "He felt that greeting cards were a significant form of connection and communication between people. He worried that in today’s fast-paced modern world, the emotional connections called up and created by the exchange of greeting cards would become scarce." No wonder I was drawn to his cards.

He combined his architectural intuition with origami and kirigami (Japanese papercutting) to create these marvels that to me were endlessly fascinating to study. Over the next 30 years he published over 50 books on origamic architecture, many for children. He thought origamic architecture was a good way to teach architectural design. My class of 3rd graders certainly loved it, not sure if any of them went on to become architects. Some for sure I know did not.

Here are some of his cards. I hope you get a chance to see some of these in person some time, as they are each brilliant little fantasy worlds created from stark white paper and shadow.

Lloyd's Of London

Yutenji House

Chapels (Large and Small)

Pueblo de Taos

Congratulation

Mikonos

Liberty

Amsterdam Houses

Carpenter Center

Masahiro Chatani died in 2008 at the age of 74.

More wonderful creations can be found on his website.

Clay Illustration by Irma Gruenholz

Irma Gruenholz is a clay illustrator from Spain.

Her illustrations are used in books, magazines, ads and editorial.

I love these--the details have a light, witty simplicity.

When I look at them, I can almost hear the voices of her characters,

and maybe even some theme music.

Great little stories!

Easter Bunnies and Con Jobs

Tie on your Easter bonnet, we're headed down a bumpy road

of Easter joy. Easter has always been laden with meaning for me.

None of it related to anyone hanging on a cross, however.

More like spring and new discoveries.

My earliest memory of Easter will tell you

pretty much all you need to know about my mom and me.

The Easter I was two or three, there was still snow on the ground.

The Saturday morning before Easter,

my mom began her campaign to convince me

that the Easter Bunny needed MY blanket to stay warm

and fulfill his duties as The Candyman.

OOOOH, just look at him. How could I not protect him?

When I went to bed that night, I did it.

I surrendered my safety net to the Easter Bunny.

It looked a lot like this.

Only much more filthy and full of holes.

I mean, I'm sure it looked like this at one time.

The trauma of not having my blanket anymore after that

obliterates any other Easter memories for awhile.

I personally looked like this right around that time.

We must have been poor,

it appears we're just imagining our Easter baskets.

That really is my brother and me.

A few years later, on another Easter, blanket-free.

I think I'd taken up smoking by this time to compensate.

Right around this time, my mom foolishly

got us baby chicks as an Easter surprise.

I do have a photo of them somewhere.

My mom didn't really look quite this much like Eleanor Roosevelt.

And she didn't wear an apron like this,

she wore the kind that tied around your waist.

And hers had a flask in one pocket.

One year, I got one of these eggs made of sugar

with the little world inside.

I'd never seen anything like it,

and to this day I still think these are just magic.

I stared at it for weeks, until my brother broke off a piece of it and ate it.

In about ten minutes the whole thing was gone.

Skip waaaaaaay ahead.

These are two of my own daughter's Easter dresses.

I loved buying her Easter dresses, hats, shoes--LOVED.

Part of the joy was that she had no say

and would just wear them happily.

She looked so adorable.

I'm so glad I saved these dresses.

Why two identical bunnies, you ask?

Because that's how the Bunny was busted at our house

when my daughter was maybe ten.

That Easter morning I awoke with that feeling

that someone was staring at me.

Someone was. My daughter, with a twin bunny in each hand.

Glaring staring at me.

"So...what's the deal? You're the Easter Bunny, and dad's Santa?

That how it works?"

She really talked like that as a child.

Before I'd had any coffee, or even gotten out of bed,

she explained to me that

if the Easter Bunny WAS real,

he'd never do something as stupid

as give her the same bunny two years in a row.

Someone like me, however, easily would.

For about an hour or so, she let me know the breadth of this fail.

Nothing I offered was an acceptable response.

Finally, angling once again for that elusive Mother of the Year award,

I said, "OK. So did you seriously think

a rabbit dragged all that stuff in here?"

I remember her blinking a couple times, and then she was quiet.

She still looked adorable in her Easter dress,

but the jelly beans weren't as sweet that year for anyone.

The next year, in an Easter basket, my own Mother of the Year

returned the blanket to me that she'd conned me into giving up

all those years ago.

I'm not kidding.

She thought it was funny. It was, sort of.

Now I can't find it. She kept it for all that time, and now I can't find it.

Turns out it was better off with the Easter Bunny.

As an empty nester now, all I have left for Easter entertainment

is to put a Peep in the microwave and watch it blow up.

Have you ever done that? It's kind of awesome.

So. Before you judge me for not having that blanket, here's this.

Yep, it's that dress I had on in that photo above of my brother and me.

Easter. New beginnings. Hope yours are all you want them to be.

Spring at Sisters

Last Saturday we went looking for spring at a favorite spot,

Sisters' Garden and Bloom.

All the great things are inside this little cottage

and a neighboring one--hard to believe!

Click on photos for a better view.

I'll go get some coffee while you shop.

Well, obviously not all the great things are inside.

I was in the mood to look for interesting textures.

If you didn't know better, you'd almost think this was Cape Cod,

for birds anyway.

It's always fun to see what recently caught Barb's eye at Sisters.

Happy Easter!