How the Other Half Lives

I spent the weekend at my "country home" out in the wild suburbs of New Jersey, a fine state for visiting. First, I had to brave the weird and dirty of the Port Authority. At 8:30am on Saturday, it was relatively quiet....not counting the guy wearing a belted red snuggie with his hair in pigtails, the poor lost pigeon flying in endless circles around the terminal, the United Nations line forming at the gate for the bus that goes to the Woodbury Commons outlet, the various transportation employees unable to answer questions without attitude, and the guy who made a big show about losing a ticket he just bought even though no one believed he really had one. The best part is that this is all set to the classical music soundtrack that's piped throughout the terminal. It was like having tickets to the Ballet of Weird.

Littlest cowgirl feeding a cow.

A quick ride through the Lincoln Tunnel and I found myself in New Jersey. Not the clean air, open spaces part though. That takes some work to find. First, I got off the bus at the side of a highway, walked across an on-ramp, and waited for my ride in the empty parking lot of a Houlihan's. Before I knew it though, I was whisked into a classic suburban weekend. Like right out of a movie! We shopped for discounted furniture at Ethan Allen, visited a petting zoo, had wings at the local pub, played with the dog in the backyard, and grilled out. Culminating with poker night for the guys in the basement (chips, cans of beer) and gab session upstairs for the ladies (brownies, wine).

Then, it was rise and shine for church on Sunday and a trip to the spring fair benefiting an order of Roman Catholic priests. This fair was full of yikes. New York street fairs have their share of useless stuff that no one wants, but there are usually enough food and local vendors to balance it out. Here, we had tables of creepy stuffed animals, dream catchers, and other odd assortments. I think these were New Jersey carnies.

Oldies and CDs - mutually inclusive.

Looking for a wolf t-shirt to wear to your D&D game?

Low maintenance animal companions.

Pink Mary Kay cadillac!

We escaped back to the serenity of the fenced in backyard to eat pizza, blow bubbles, play with the dog, and weed out crab grass before depositing me on a bus back to the classic Ballet of Weird.

Other People Making Glass Things

Today, I'm tucked up on the couch with a hot water bottle and my laptop. I love rainy days! Yesterday, however, it was gorgeous weather - just perfect for a walk over to the industrial section of Park Slope for a free tour of the workshops of Brooklyn Glass. Did you catch that key word? Free. As a good friend is fond of saying, "Free is fabulous." (I suspect that phrase requires an exclamation point, but I already used one in this paragraph.)

Doesn't it look inviting? Luckily, the people who work there are really nice.

I went to the wrong entrance and missed the very beginning of the tour, unfortunately. But they ushered me right to the first station where we watched a woman demonstrate Flame Working while she was making a glass bead. The whole thing looked bright orange from the heat. When someone asked how it was possible to tell how a piece was turning out when the whole thing looked orange, we were told that different colors appear as different shades of orange in the flame.

She holds the bead in the flame, a combination of propane and oxygen, and adds color with the multi-colored glass rods.

The blue glasses protect from the heat and also make it possible for the artist to see the object better through the flame.

Next stop was Neon - hard to demonstrate and explain at the same time because you have to constantly blow into the tube to keep the pressure level.

He's blowing through a rubber tube attached to the hollow glass tube. This one is blue glass from Venice. He heated the tube on what is called a ribbon burner and can then bend it into different shapes.

The tube can also be heated with the cross flame to make smaller bends in the glass.

Once the tube is shaped, electrodes are attached to each end.

Then he hooks it up to this contraption to fill it with gas and a tiny drop of mercury.

Voila!

 Here's a video I found on the magic interweb that shows the whole process is greater detail.

Our tour ended with a very active glass blowing demonstration - lots of my photos are blurry because of the constant motion required to keep the piece from shattering. Even more impressive than the finished piece was the communication between the two artists. They moved in sync, anticipating the movements and needs of the other - all while balancing a flaming hot piece of glass on the end of a steel pipe. Seems easy enough.

Blazing hot bottle straight from the oven. 

She blows into the steel pipe while he rolls the pipe and bottle constantly to keep it centered and evenly shaped.

Transferring the bottle to another pipe so the neck can be shaped.

He's shaping the neck of the bottle while she protects his arm from the heat with the paddle.

Ta da! Once the bottle is broken off the pipe, she'll transfer it to the kiln with the kevlar gloves.

Project # 2: A drinking glass. They're using a mold made from cherry wood to shape the glass.

Anyone can sign up to take classes here or rent studio space. The catalog claims "no experience necessary" for almost every course. Of course, they can't guarantee your results!

As a bonus for adventuring outside my apartment, I happened upon this trove of curiosities hiding under the highway. If I ever become a complete recluse and find myself lonely, I'll just build myself a friend from the selections here:

Sabbatical

For reasons we needn't get into here, I currently have a lot of time of my hands. The majority of which I intend to spend constructively, and the rest of which will be chronicled here so to as to stop disappointing this sloth and to make sure I don't turn into an actual hermit. The added challenge will be to keep things cheap as I'll be living on a shoestring. Stay tuned, faithful readers!

An Interlude

I know I have been delinquent in posting. To distract you from my absence, I present this video to show what a production bath time is for us sloths. I'll be at home eating hibiscus if you're looking for me...

 

Dating Myself

Back in the summer, I bought myself a ticket to a play in November to give me something to look forward to. The chilly, rainy evening arrived and while I had a million reasons not to go through with the night as planned, I did it anyway and I'm glad I did. Movies and television have been a sort of saving grace in the past several months - filling sleepless hours and quiet rooms with diversion. Seeing a live play offered the same promise of escapism, but outside of my house for a change - a step in the right direction, I suppose. At least it's more socially acceptable than admitting that I've watched every episode of Cheers on Netflix and went to see the Twilight movie this afternoon.

Here's the thing I hate about the Theater District: Times Square. Ugh. I was thrilled that the Cort Theater was closer to Sixth Avenue, allowing me to take in the Christmas decorations near Radio City without having to navigate around throngs of lost tourists taking photos of blinking billboards. It helped that it was pouring rain.

Then, I treated myself to a fancy dinner at Ray's Pizza. Do I know how to show myself a good time or what?

Properly fed, I was ready for an evening at the theater. I've been a fan of Dule Hill (ignore all the photos with his wife. I do.) since The West Wing. I even watch Psych. I know. It is not a good show; I watch it anyway. When I learned he was going to be on Broadway, joined by an amazing cast of other actors (Tracie Thoms, Mekhi Phifer, Ruben Santiago-Hudson), I knew I wanted to see Stick Fly. Two sons take their girlfriends to the family home on Martha's Vineyard in a play about family, secrets, race, and class. The play is still in previews so I am hoping Dule steps it up a bit because the rest of the cast is amazing. Also amazing was the set. While I waited for the lights to come up on the first act, I had a chance to admire the complexity of the set - a stone patio, modern kitchen, library with hardwood floors, two staircases, art, books, and tons of tiny details. I found myself imagining all the plans and work that go into building something that feels like a home, functions as a character, and can be appreciated from almost every seat in the theater.

To top the evening off, I treated myself to a taxi ride home. Taking the subway after seeing a movie or a play always breaks the spell for me. I like to have a chance to savor the experience without being confronted by the 1,001 crazy people who ride the subway after 9pm.

Visual Treats

While I'm not a fan of dressing up for Halloween anymore, I do have great memories of Halloween preparations and costumes from when I was a kid. Bobbing for apples, carving pumpkins, tunnels of terror, costume parties with my cousins, peeled grapes masquerading as eyeballs, stuffing old clothes filled with leaves, stretching fake cobwebs, and, of course trick-or-treating. My mom is incredibly creative and was always good at coming up with spooky stuff and helping with costumes (never store bought!). My dad used to carve our pumpkins for us after we presented him with a sketch of how we wanted them to look - we were limited to basic geometric shapes and had to be specific about how and where we wanted the teeth placed. The first year I was allowed to carve the pumpkin myself, I sliced open my finger and required stitches.

Of course, these are modern times and Halloween is a whole different ballgame. I don't know if I haven't noticed in previous years or if Brooklyn has stepped up its Halloween game this year, but the neighborhood is bursting at the seams with spooky. Fake cobwebs adorn almost every stoop - a few houses could use a tutorial from my mom - and some went above and beyond. My tastes run to the classic, but I do like some of the more tastefully done modern touches.

Happy Halloween!

C'mon - this isn't even trying.

The giant spiders are a nice touch.

A mummy wrapped in cobwebs.

Spooooky!

Not a fan of colored cobwebs or inflatable decorations.

This witch has a speaker system behind her. Very promising.

Excellent. Bonus points for skull and other bones wrapped up in the web.

A solid effort.

Very elaborate. I'll even allow the colored cobwebs.

These are not the carved pumpkins of my childhood. Advanced!

Nice use of lights.

Another giant spider attacking Brooklyn.

I like the skeleton on the bicycle.

Love the stuffed people. Hate the orange cobwebs.

Creepy!

Scary raven with blinking red eyes. Love it.

Minus a million points for the inflatables.

Plus 50 points for skeleton crawling out of the grave.

Glowing cat eyes in the front windows!

Brooklyn, Brooklyn, Take Me Home

After weeks spent in the suburbs, returning to the city felt like a culture shock. Last weekend I set out to immerse myself in the beauty that is Brooklyn - from urban grittiness to lush gardens and back again - to remind myself why I live here. Also, I've always wanted to go to the Chile Pepper Fiesta at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden and every year I forget. This year, though, I was ready!

First, I mourned the loss of the Union Street bus, then I laced up my sneakers and took to the streets. With a soundtrack courtesy of a good friend's hand-me-down iPod, I made my way through the industrial divide between my neighborhood and Park Slope....

The Union Street Bridge over the Gowanus Canal, everyone's favorite Superfund site.

Seriously, do not allow this water to make contact with your skin.

And then it was on to the Fiesta! There were a bunch of tents set up throughout the gardens for bands, sampling, eating and drinking. My first stop was the Chile-Chocolate Wonderland - obviously. After all the chocolate, I decided there was no point in wasting my time tasting salsas, so I skipped the rest of the displays.

Chile tangerine ganache.

This was like eating spicy apple pie.

I bravely (foolishly?) left the house without an umbrella and when the downpour hit I got soaked. If my life were a romantic comedy, this would be where I would tell you how a cute guy with an umbrella came to my rescue. But, you know, this was real life and I was wearing sneakers and yoga pants, so I dodged around the garden under trees with varying degrees of shelter. Everything was so green. I like that. I like that you go from the Gowanus to the Botanic Garden in less than 20 minutes. Even if there is no cute guy with an umbrella or a Union Street bus.

Rose garden.

Autumn crocus.

Lushness.

Pretty nature.

Pumpkins!

Lushness.