Good evening from a rainy, sleety New York with sidewalks that are slick with ice.
Now, does that sound like a winter wonderland? Well, not to me either, but it is what we have tonight. With our reasonably-well-functioning public transport, we New Yorkers are generally able to just go with the flow as the unpleasant side of winter tries to interfere with our pursuit of happiness.
But, this is getting close to Christmas, and we all do have lists to check off, parties to attend, and even the usual round of errands staring at us.
For myself, this was to be a day off with lots of required appearances, nonetheless. But the weather chased most of the requisites away. I not so quietly cheered.
I did not need to attend the previously scheduled meeting downtown at 9 this morning, and so I did not set my alarm clock and let the darker-than-usual sun up allow me to sleep a bit late. But then it was up and down to the basement laundry room (now undergoing some of the signs of renovation that the new owners of this building are bestowing upon all floors of their new property.)
The early morning was rain, then sleet, then snow, then a slow reversal of the earlier special effects. I figured that if I could wrap up in weather-proof and warm layers, I should, post laundry, set out to do lots of Christmas shopping, and other errands. And so I did.
A great achievement for this small-shoe-sized person, on this foul weather day, was that I took my dripping down-coated, damp-parcel-carrying person into a neighborhood shoe shop, and asked the staff (I was the only customer on this bad weather afternoon) what waterproof, snowproof and warm boots do you have in size 5.5? Well. They showed me a fine little style, made in Canada (Pondside, take note) and a very simple design with just a little bit of edge. Hey, that is me, very simple with just a bit of edge.
I was very glad to take those little black boots home with me and to have a chance to warm up before the next required appearance of the day.
My shop was to have its holiday dinner party tonight, but thank goodness when I got home and called the shop, those there had already decided wisely, to postpone that festivity.
Great. Because I had another festive function to attend late this afternoon, a retirement farewell reception for a dear friend whom I first met back in the early 1970's when we were both archivists at The Metropolitan Museum of Art.
There is no way that I would have missed attending this party, held in a rarefied lounge area of the Met. I definitely wanted to be there to honor my friend, but also to take another of my walks down memory lane. Sleet and snow and frozen sidewalks and a long wait for a crosstown bus, none of them were a deterrent.
Yes, it has been thirty years since I was an archivist at the Met, and in those thirty years I have been through many changes in my life. There were very few people whom I recognized at the party. Strangely, what interested me was that any regrets that I had wondered about ... whether I would be sorry to have given up the museum life, if re-entering that society this evening at a very high level would give me doubts about my decisions.... Well. None of that remotely true. The many people gathered about with glasses of wine, and tidbits to munch on, seemed sort of insular, a bit self-congratulatory. Virgo that I am, I could not help but check out various bits of body language, and wonder at the subtle messages that were being sent across the beautiful, large room. Messages that would mean little outside of that huge Museum building.
I was happy to see some other old pals, besides the honoree, and to chat a bit. Our old boss, a glamorous male, who featured in many society column photos, made a last minute appearance. It was fun to chat a bit with him. But all in all, I was glad to be able to take the elevator down to the first floor, and walk through the beautiful Museum lobby, out the front door and down the marble front stairs. I was so happy that all ice had been cleared from those marble steps! There was a very long wait for a bus to take me back westward across the park, but that time in the chilled evening air (with fur-edged hood up on my down coat at this point ... it was getting cold) gave me more time to contemplate some life decisions that I have made.
The career that I work so hard in now is very demanding, not very intellectually driven, but is very people focused. Tonight, as I look forward to another long day, mainly on my feet, tomorrow at the shop, I am glad that I have tried so many different ways to making my way in the world. Each career choice has had its reasons, and each aftermath has had its pluses and minuses. My current choice is still in the plus column, no matter how much I might whinge from time to time in this space.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Sunday, December 9, 2007
City Views, Country Dreams
A late good afternoon from New York.As many of you all know by now, I love reading. Most of my books now come from a great, quaint old members-only library, but the New York Public Library has a prominant spot in my heart.
I have borrowed hundreds, perhaps thousands, of books from the Public Library, and about six years ago, made much use of its free access to computers when preparing resumes and correspondence as I sought to re-enter the working world.
For many years, I have donated a little bit of money each year to the NYPL, and think of it as a small thank you for all that the Library has given me. The main branch of the Library is a splendid stone buil
ding at the corner of Fifth Avenue and 42nd Street. It has grand exhibition spaces where wonderful exhibits regularly appear; a rare books room that one can actually visit, after going through a few security hoops; a rare map department, a magnificent reading room arrayed with fine old books, and sparkling new computers. The building is a wonder, and many fine librarians are there daily to help everyone.On a December Sunday each year, the Library holds a very festive holiday open house, to which all the Friends of the Library are invited. It is great fun. The place is magnificently decorated with greenery. Lots of music is played and sung. Many folks parade around in storybook costumes. Children are encouraged to attend (it is not a day for silence in the halls) and there are all sorts of entertainments for the children ... face painting, juggling lessons, magic and puppet shows, storytelling, origami, and more.
Lots of cookies, chedder cheese pastry twists, punch and lots of wine is served from many buffet tables throughout the many levels of the marble halls. In one ballroom sized area, a disco band plays for dancing, and a more elaborate buffet is on offer.
The party is great fun, and a queue forms outside the building on Fifth Avenue about an hour before the starting hour. It is so funny to have bustling Christmas shoppers stop in their tracks to ask those in the queue, what's happening, what's going on ... and to tell them it is a party, and ... if they were to become a Friend they could come to next year's party.
This year's version was just a enjoyable as those of years past. I am glad that the forecast precipitation held off, so that after I left the party, I did a bit of walking up Fifth Avenue with my camera and have tried to get a few photos to share with you all. I have pictures of the special windows in shops such as Lord & Taylor, Saks seen from Rockefeller Center, and best of all, Bergdorf Goodman. BG's windows always set the standard.
By four o'clock, the air was distinctly cold, and it was time to get myself home, change clothes, and get some groceries. Now I am cosy by the laptop, and hoping to be able to properly illustrate my Sunday blog so that you all will be able to see some city views.
Pleasant dreams to all.
Saturday, December 1, 2007
City Views, Country Dreams
Good Evening from New York.
Today has been a really cold and windy day in New York. I had my little scrap of notated paper in my pocket as I headed out around 11 this morning, with the intent to get started on my Christmas list. Well. I waited a very long time on a windy corner for a bus to take me to the East Side of the park. I kept thinking, do I want to be even colder? Where is that elusive bus?
I had already done some errands on my west side of town, but needed to go eastward to go deeper into the Christmas shopping. Since I have to grab my free time when I can, every half-hour really does count.
Finally the bus arrived. My fellow twenty waiters and I boarded, and soon we wound through the Park's transverse road and emerged on to Fifth Avenue. I got off and got to stop one on my list. Done. On to stop two. But by this time the cold and the really huge crowds on the sidewalks of midtown were putting me off. (I do think that many of these folks on the sidewalks were out-of-town tourists, because they just did not walk at the pace that we New Yorkers sort of get used to.) I made one stop, and then returned home.
It was much more productive to stay cosy at home for the afternoon and continue my Christmas card painting. Great jazz music on my radio. A few phone calls with friends. Very relaxing. And warm.
This past week, our company held its annual holiday party, a few weeks earlier than usual. Don't think that we have ever before had the party in November. Anyhow, it was fun to have a chance to see folks that I usually only connect with via e-mail or phone calls. Great food and drink. Music, dancing. Venue located right on the edge of the Hudson River, with great big windows overlooking the water and the city skyline. Lovely.
We also learned this week of the year's great financial success for our company. This means a big profit sharing bonus for each of us, and hopes of more to come. I attended a meeting at which there was opportunity to share views with our company's founder, and of course I had to take advantage of that opportunity.
Perhaps not so great news is the past week's crime in the area of the shop. Last weekend as a club in the area closed up ca. 3 a.m., someone was stabbed to death. This club is a block away from our shop. Obviously the night life in the area is quite different from what normally goes on during business hours.
Ah, but wait. Also last week, there was an armed robbery in a shop at the corner of our block of Fifth Avenue at 4 p.m. Now this concerns me. Alarms me. Since learning of this incident from one of our delivery service's drivers, I have tried to find out more about what actually happened, and how we may get additional protection for the shop. I have been communicating with the robbed shop, the police and with my company. So far, I regret to say, I am not happy with the results of my communicating. Maybe I will feel differently by this time next week.
December is always a dicey time crime wise in this city. There is just so much money around, the nights are long, people are not attentive, all sorts of factors.
My concern as a manager is that I want those on my staff, and also my customers to be safe. I want to be safe myself! Making theory into reality is not always so easy. When it comes to safety, I am not of the laissez-faire school of thought. It is upsetting not to have calls to the local police precinct returned. When I go back to the shop tomorrow, I will try again to get some answers about what the police may be doing to provide the area with addtional protection during this glorious holiday season.
Meanwhile, my neighborhood's sidewalks now have the annual additions of lots of Christmas trees for sale. The trees mostly are trucked in from Canada, in all sizes from tres petit to twelve foot tall ones for the high-ceilinged grand apartments. It is great to walk past these trees just to breathe in the fragrance. Each one of these "encampments" is staffed 24/7 by heavily bundled up young entrepreneural folks who manage to make a bit of money each December. Most have boom boxes blaring forth various notions of Christmas music, usually not any of the carols that you all might recognize.
Let me end this seasonal New York report with the vision of sidewalks lined with stands of lovely green Christmas trees awaiting adoption.
Pleasant dreams to all.
Today has been a really cold and windy day in New York. I had my little scrap of notated paper in my pocket as I headed out around 11 this morning, with the intent to get started on my Christmas list. Well. I waited a very long time on a windy corner for a bus to take me to the East Side of the park. I kept thinking, do I want to be even colder? Where is that elusive bus?
I had already done some errands on my west side of town, but needed to go eastward to go deeper into the Christmas shopping. Since I have to grab my free time when I can, every half-hour really does count.
Finally the bus arrived. My fellow twenty waiters and I boarded, and soon we wound through the Park's transverse road and emerged on to Fifth Avenue. I got off and got to stop one on my list. Done. On to stop two. But by this time the cold and the really huge crowds on the sidewalks of midtown were putting me off. (I do think that many of these folks on the sidewalks were out-of-town tourists, because they just did not walk at the pace that we New Yorkers sort of get used to.) I made one stop, and then returned home.
It was much more productive to stay cosy at home for the afternoon and continue my Christmas card painting. Great jazz music on my radio. A few phone calls with friends. Very relaxing. And warm.
This past week, our company held its annual holiday party, a few weeks earlier than usual. Don't think that we have ever before had the party in November. Anyhow, it was fun to have a chance to see folks that I usually only connect with via e-mail or phone calls. Great food and drink. Music, dancing. Venue located right on the edge of the Hudson River, with great big windows overlooking the water and the city skyline. Lovely.
We also learned this week of the year's great financial success for our company. This means a big profit sharing bonus for each of us, and hopes of more to come. I attended a meeting at which there was opportunity to share views with our company's founder, and of course I had to take advantage of that opportunity.
Perhaps not so great news is the past week's crime in the area of the shop. Last weekend as a club in the area closed up ca. 3 a.m., someone was stabbed to death. This club is a block away from our shop. Obviously the night life in the area is quite different from what normally goes on during business hours.
Ah, but wait. Also last week, there was an armed robbery in a shop at the corner of our block of Fifth Avenue at 4 p.m. Now this concerns me. Alarms me. Since learning of this incident from one of our delivery service's drivers, I have tried to find out more about what actually happened, and how we may get additional protection for the shop. I have been communicating with the robbed shop, the police and with my company. So far, I regret to say, I am not happy with the results of my communicating. Maybe I will feel differently by this time next week.
December is always a dicey time crime wise in this city. There is just so much money around, the nights are long, people are not attentive, all sorts of factors.
My concern as a manager is that I want those on my staff, and also my customers to be safe. I want to be safe myself! Making theory into reality is not always so easy. When it comes to safety, I am not of the laissez-faire school of thought. It is upsetting not to have calls to the local police precinct returned. When I go back to the shop tomorrow, I will try again to get some answers about what the police may be doing to provide the area with addtional protection during this glorious holiday season.
Meanwhile, my neighborhood's sidewalks now have the annual additions of lots of Christmas trees for sale. The trees mostly are trucked in from Canada, in all sizes from tres petit to twelve foot tall ones for the high-ceilinged grand apartments. It is great to walk past these trees just to breathe in the fragrance. Each one of these "encampments" is staffed 24/7 by heavily bundled up young entrepreneural folks who manage to make a bit of money each December. Most have boom boxes blaring forth various notions of Christmas music, usually not any of the carols that you all might recognize.
Let me end this seasonal New York report with the vision of sidewalks lined with stands of lovely green Christmas trees awaiting adoption.
Pleasant dreams to all.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
City Views, Country Dreams
Happy Thanksgiving from New York.
It is now Thanksgiving evening, not at all the same idea as the eve of Thanksgiving.
Thanksgiving in the United States is a holiday begun to commemorate a day very early in our country's history. Some say the first thanksgiving was in Massachusetts. Some in my native Virginia say no way, we were there first.
In any case, giving thanks for our blessings, and for our daily survival is never a bad idea.
Today I can give thanks for several immediate blessings.
First is that the strong cold symptons that were attacking my bio system on Tuesday night now seem to be in abeyance. Yes, I do have a sniffle now and then, but no fever or threat of germ/virus entrenchment.
Second is that I can even communicate tonight, since this morning I spent lots of minutes on the phone with a geographically distant person on a computer helpline. My computer was on life support, and its life was supported. Cheers to global resources.
I am still somewhat concerned about what has recently caused more problems than I have previously ever experienced on the computer. But for now, glad to be with you.
Usually on Thanksgiving, I will take the two block walk over to the edge of Central Park to see some of the famous Thanksgiving Day parade. It is always fun to see the reactions in the faces of the watching children to the progression of bands, floats, and huge balloons. Today, I stayed home and made sure to banish my cold. Those folks who did get to see the parade pass by were lucky in the weather, no rain, no sleet, no snow. Moderate temperature.
My day was spent working on more of my watercolor painted Christmas cards, and taking in lots of liquids.
Lucky me ... tomorrow I have also scheduled as a day off, so if I do feel ever better, it will be a great opportunity to get out and about. This is such a glorious time of year in New York, that there really is never enough time to enjoy all that is on offer.
(I am still on the hunt for shoes/boots, and that hunting trip alone could take a week.) Maybe it is better to just let the perfect pair of footwear to find me.
Hoping that this will actually get posted, as I am still typing and clicking without my prior confidence in the system.
Pleasant dreams to all.
It is now Thanksgiving evening, not at all the same idea as the eve of Thanksgiving.
Thanksgiving in the United States is a holiday begun to commemorate a day very early in our country's history. Some say the first thanksgiving was in Massachusetts. Some in my native Virginia say no way, we were there first.
In any case, giving thanks for our blessings, and for our daily survival is never a bad idea.
Today I can give thanks for several immediate blessings.
First is that the strong cold symptons that were attacking my bio system on Tuesday night now seem to be in abeyance. Yes, I do have a sniffle now and then, but no fever or threat of germ/virus entrenchment.
Second is that I can even communicate tonight, since this morning I spent lots of minutes on the phone with a geographically distant person on a computer helpline. My computer was on life support, and its life was supported. Cheers to global resources.
I am still somewhat concerned about what has recently caused more problems than I have previously ever experienced on the computer. But for now, glad to be with you.
Usually on Thanksgiving, I will take the two block walk over to the edge of Central Park to see some of the famous Thanksgiving Day parade. It is always fun to see the reactions in the faces of the watching children to the progression of bands, floats, and huge balloons. Today, I stayed home and made sure to banish my cold. Those folks who did get to see the parade pass by were lucky in the weather, no rain, no sleet, no snow. Moderate temperature.
My day was spent working on more of my watercolor painted Christmas cards, and taking in lots of liquids.
Lucky me ... tomorrow I have also scheduled as a day off, so if I do feel ever better, it will be a great opportunity to get out and about. This is such a glorious time of year in New York, that there really is never enough time to enjoy all that is on offer.
(I am still on the hunt for shoes/boots, and that hunting trip alone could take a week.) Maybe it is better to just let the perfect pair of footwear to find me.
Hoping that this will actually get posted, as I am still typing and clicking without my prior confidence in the system.
Pleasant dreams to all.
Friday, November 16, 2007
City Views, Country Dreams
Good Friday evening from New York.
Winter is pushing its way into our city. The wind today was very strong, creating brilliantly blue sky, but also creating the need to bundle up. The trees in the Park are still mostly green, but by Monday, I expect they will have gone orangy, golden or even ruddy.
Right now, I feel as if I have somewhat squandered my day off. But then, if I pass by a looking glass, and see my splendid new hair cut, I revise that opinion. Do any of you also put off getting your hair styled, for various reasons, well beyond the prime time? And then, when the appointment is made, and the appointment is kept, and the stylist works the magic with the scissors, just take a look at yourself and think ... wow, that really did make a difference?
Well, that is my pattern for decades.
After this afternoon's visit to my stylist, even the blustery breezes could not disturb the shape that had been skillfully returned to my hair. What a treat.
The treat was welcome after yesterday, during which I logged in a twelve-hour work day. My choice, I keep reminding myself that I do make the schedule! The day began with a monthly get-together of various shop managers, designers, merchandisers, advertisers, etc., at which we review the pluses and minuses of each and every item in the prior month's collection. It is so much fun to bounce our opinions (and those of our customers, too) around the room. We all learn a lot, and hope that these sessions will yield an even more successful collection in six months' time.
After the meeting, I returned to the shop for the requisite responsibilities there, and then finished up with an after hours meeting with all the members of the staff. That meeting went well, and was also a time for sharing info, and ideas, and problems and solutions. (We had caterers bring in lovely sandwiches, salads and beautiful pastries. And...we also opened some of the white wine we keep on the premises for such occasions.)
When I got home, I found a phone message from a former colleague from a long ago career (I have known her for over 20 years.) She is in NYC for a quick visit and I look forward to seeing her tomorrow. How I hope that when she drops by the shop, the atmosphere will be relaxed enough for me to have a real reunion conversation.
Here are two more clothing selections I have made from our current collection: a black cashmere sweater with a v-neck line and some frontal shirring detailing and 3/4 sleeves. And an oddly appealing, to me anyway, green silk/linen skirt with embroidery around the lower foot of the skirt and some tulle around the hemline. The green is sort of a blued-loden green
Readers, I plan to wear this skirt over narrow black silk or velvet trousers, and under a black velvet dress/tunic. the black cashmere sweater will go over the dress. Good thing that I got the new hair cut, so at least that will be chic without doubt. Oh, will most likely wear some black boots. (My intention is to be able to sell at least some of these components to customers day after day!)
The company for which I work has been honored as one of the "best places to work in America" for several years and is up for this recognition yet again. So, this Monday, reps from the team that makes that judgement will be visiting my shop in the afternoon. This should be interesting. I suggested to my team that they should just be their usual fine selves. Nothing unusual. Just regular appearance and performance.
Then last night our vacuum cleaner (hoover to you?) died suddenly. We very much hope that the responsible dept of our company will be able to send us a worth replacement before Monday. We don't want our store to be a most dusty place to work!
Pleasant dreams to all.
Winter is pushing its way into our city. The wind today was very strong, creating brilliantly blue sky, but also creating the need to bundle up. The trees in the Park are still mostly green, but by Monday, I expect they will have gone orangy, golden or even ruddy.
Right now, I feel as if I have somewhat squandered my day off. But then, if I pass by a looking glass, and see my splendid new hair cut, I revise that opinion. Do any of you also put off getting your hair styled, for various reasons, well beyond the prime time? And then, when the appointment is made, and the appointment is kept, and the stylist works the magic with the scissors, just take a look at yourself and think ... wow, that really did make a difference?
Well, that is my pattern for decades.
After this afternoon's visit to my stylist, even the blustery breezes could not disturb the shape that had been skillfully returned to my hair. What a treat.
The treat was welcome after yesterday, during which I logged in a twelve-hour work day. My choice, I keep reminding myself that I do make the schedule! The day began with a monthly get-together of various shop managers, designers, merchandisers, advertisers, etc., at which we review the pluses and minuses of each and every item in the prior month's collection. It is so much fun to bounce our opinions (and those of our customers, too) around the room. We all learn a lot, and hope that these sessions will yield an even more successful collection in six months' time.
After the meeting, I returned to the shop for the requisite responsibilities there, and then finished up with an after hours meeting with all the members of the staff. That meeting went well, and was also a time for sharing info, and ideas, and problems and solutions. (We had caterers bring in lovely sandwiches, salads and beautiful pastries. And...we also opened some of the white wine we keep on the premises for such occasions.)
When I got home, I found a phone message from a former colleague from a long ago career (I have known her for over 20 years.) She is in NYC for a quick visit and I look forward to seeing her tomorrow. How I hope that when she drops by the shop, the atmosphere will be relaxed enough for me to have a real reunion conversation.
Here are two more clothing selections I have made from our current collection: a black cashmere sweater with a v-neck line and some frontal shirring detailing and 3/4 sleeves. And an oddly appealing, to me anyway, green silk/linen skirt with embroidery around the lower foot of the skirt and some tulle around the hemline. The green is sort of a blued-loden green
Readers, I plan to wear this skirt over narrow black silk or velvet trousers, and under a black velvet dress/tunic. the black cashmere sweater will go over the dress. Good thing that I got the new hair cut, so at least that will be chic without doubt. Oh, will most likely wear some black boots. (My intention is to be able to sell at least some of these components to customers day after day!)
The company for which I work has been honored as one of the "best places to work in America" for several years and is up for this recognition yet again. So, this Monday, reps from the team that makes that judgement will be visiting my shop in the afternoon. This should be interesting. I suggested to my team that they should just be their usual fine selves. Nothing unusual. Just regular appearance and performance.
Then last night our vacuum cleaner (hoover to you?) died suddenly. We very much hope that the responsible dept of our company will be able to send us a worth replacement before Monday. We don't want our store to be a most dusty place to work!
Pleasant dreams to all.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
City Views, Country Dreams
Good evening from New York.
Last Sunday, I returned to the shop after my gloriously relaxing and self indulgent weeks off.
Truth teller that I am, how I wish that I could have been able to have many more weeks at home, reading, painting, visiting with friends, writing, walking in the Park, looking a good and bad art in galleries and museums. Truth teller that I am, it was necessary to return to the job.
And so I did.
Unsurprisingly, nothing terrible occured during my absence, but also many chores and responsibilities were also left unattended to. I just felt so "wanted" upon my return. Last Sunday was a bit of a demon day, with so many unanswered phone calls, e-mails, customer-related questions, etc. But all in all, it was not awful to go back to the scene.
My new mom assistant had returned to work while I was away, so we had many items to discuss during the past week. I cannot expect her to catch up instantly, yet need to update her as quickly as possible about the most pressing developments/changes during her six months' leave. We are getting there.
I am a bit concerned about the eventual impact on our business of the current sub-prime mortgage credit crisis flowing through the economic system, but so far our customers still seem quite ready to hand their credit cards across the counter, when they find clothes that they do like.
I played a bit of catch up with my own clothing selections, choosing three new items from the current collections, a very bright orangy-red wide v-neck merino wool tunic, black velvet narrow leg trousers and a black velvel cap-sleeved, ballet necklined, knee length dress/tunic. I still have to choose additional items, but these three will add some interesting combination possibilities to my existing wardrobe. The idea is to illustrate for the customers how flexible our clothing can be. Everyone can find her own way to wear it.
Now. On to culture and mortality. Abrupt swerve from the frivolity of fashion.
This morning's radio news told me that Norman Mailer had died earlier this morning. When I was a young adult in New York, he was very much a presence in the city, even running for mayor at one point, but aside from that he was a prize winning novelist, who was politically attuned. In Brooklyn, everyone knew just which was his house ... the one with the beautiful blue stained glass swan window.
He was a talent, an icon, but also an accessible icon. Nowadays, the celebrities of art and culture often seem to live in another universe. In the 1960's and 70's, this was less true.
About ten years ago, I went to a book reading at a neighborhood bookshop. The featured author was Mr. Mailer. That bookshop fell under the relentless pressure of Barnes and Noble some time ago.
Anyhow, I took along to the reading my aged copy of Mailer's great Vietnam War era book, Armies of the Night, hoping that he would sign it for me. Well, of course, he did. But what memory I still smile at is that the legendary macho icon Mailer, just looked up at me from the signing desk at which he was seated, smiled with a twinkle, and said, "I never can remember, is it Frances with an i or an e?" We chatted a bit more, and then he wrote a sweet note in my yellow-paged old book.
And so tonight, another literary person of note has left us. Perhaps those of you who live in other parts of the world will also feel, as you grow older, a bit of sadness when you learn that someone you have known all your adult life as part of the cultural world, will no longer write, paint, play music. Of course, it is good to appreciate the future talents, but how I do cherish the art that has accompanied me so far though my own live.
Pleasant dreams to all.
Last Sunday, I returned to the shop after my gloriously relaxing and self indulgent weeks off.
Truth teller that I am, how I wish that I could have been able to have many more weeks at home, reading, painting, visiting with friends, writing, walking in the Park, looking a good and bad art in galleries and museums. Truth teller that I am, it was necessary to return to the job.
And so I did.
Unsurprisingly, nothing terrible occured during my absence, but also many chores and responsibilities were also left unattended to. I just felt so "wanted" upon my return. Last Sunday was a bit of a demon day, with so many unanswered phone calls, e-mails, customer-related questions, etc. But all in all, it was not awful to go back to the scene.
My new mom assistant had returned to work while I was away, so we had many items to discuss during the past week. I cannot expect her to catch up instantly, yet need to update her as quickly as possible about the most pressing developments/changes during her six months' leave. We are getting there.
I am a bit concerned about the eventual impact on our business of the current sub-prime mortgage credit crisis flowing through the economic system, but so far our customers still seem quite ready to hand their credit cards across the counter, when they find clothes that they do like.
I played a bit of catch up with my own clothing selections, choosing three new items from the current collections, a very bright orangy-red wide v-neck merino wool tunic, black velvet narrow leg trousers and a black velvel cap-sleeved, ballet necklined, knee length dress/tunic. I still have to choose additional items, but these three will add some interesting combination possibilities to my existing wardrobe. The idea is to illustrate for the customers how flexible our clothing can be. Everyone can find her own way to wear it.
Now. On to culture and mortality. Abrupt swerve from the frivolity of fashion.
This morning's radio news told me that Norman Mailer had died earlier this morning. When I was a young adult in New York, he was very much a presence in the city, even running for mayor at one point, but aside from that he was a prize winning novelist, who was politically attuned. In Brooklyn, everyone knew just which was his house ... the one with the beautiful blue stained glass swan window.
He was a talent, an icon, but also an accessible icon. Nowadays, the celebrities of art and culture often seem to live in another universe. In the 1960's and 70's, this was less true.
About ten years ago, I went to a book reading at a neighborhood bookshop. The featured author was Mr. Mailer. That bookshop fell under the relentless pressure of Barnes and Noble some time ago.
Anyhow, I took along to the reading my aged copy of Mailer's great Vietnam War era book, Armies of the Night, hoping that he would sign it for me. Well, of course, he did. But what memory I still smile at is that the legendary macho icon Mailer, just looked up at me from the signing desk at which he was seated, smiled with a twinkle, and said, "I never can remember, is it Frances with an i or an e?" We chatted a bit more, and then he wrote a sweet note in my yellow-paged old book.
And so tonight, another literary person of note has left us. Perhaps those of you who live in other parts of the world will also feel, as you grow older, a bit of sadness when you learn that someone you have known all your adult life as part of the cultural world, will no longer write, paint, play music. Of course, it is good to appreciate the future talents, but how I do cherish the art that has accompanied me so far though my own live.
Pleasant dreams to all.
Monday, October 29, 2007
City Views, Country Dreams
Good evening from New York.
It has now been over a week that I have not been in the shop. I admit that I have thought about the shop, and have even allowed my telephone's answering machine vigilance to let one call ... from the shop ... to come through. In the big picture, I am glad that I did answer that call.
Will try not to think about the info that it imparted until my return to the work place.
So. What have I been doing?
How wonderful to be able to make up my own personal schedule every day! I wake early and ease into the morning as it suits me. Sometimes, even as the days do grow shorter, I awake before daylight, courtesy of the noise from the construction site across the street, that noisily seeks to create very costly housing to replace the apartments in which many families raised many generations.
There are still many of my interests (baking, cooking real meals, seeing some more of my old friends) that I have to attend to. But, I have been painting away each day, working on this year's watercolor Christmas cards. I do so love making these little paintings. What is tricky is to not rush them. To approach each card as its own creativity. I just listen to FM radio in the background, and settle in with my brushes, water and paints. And the paper, of course. Time melts.
All of a sudden, early morning has turned to lunch time. I stop. Make a quick lunch. Toasted cheese sandwich. Tea. Apple. Back to painting.
And then there is the reading. Milla and Jane have, for a longish time, recommended to me the books of David Mitchell. Well, I went into the fiction level stacks of my wonderful library and found four books by Mr. Mitchell. I checked out his first novel. Ghostwritten. And since opening the book have been treating myself to his enormous talent. I am usually a fast reader, but in this case have been able to temper that so I can really appreciate the writer's talent.
Yes, I do have other books still on my to read stack, but they must wait for now.
Many days last week were rainy here, even as the west coast was partched and fires raged. My uncle lives near San Diego, and did voluntarily evacuate his beautiful home. Luckily, he was able to return home to find unwelcome sooty debris the only damage. Still. I am so glad that he did not elect to wait it out at home. The fires came within two miles of his house!
On the housing front, the new owners of this apartment building continue to post messages announcing the latest stages of their renovation plans. Updating the electrical infrastructure is now underway, necessitating the sealing of the stairway nearest "my" front door. The building does have three elevators, but I have preferred just walking down the stairs as the quickest way to the ground floor. Now, I must use an alternate staircase or just wait, and wait, for the elevator.
There is a chance that this electrical improvement may require entry to my own apartment, but I am promised prior notification.
In my heart, I feel that the renovation and its aftermath (the conversion of the building to a condominium/cooperative financial status) will not harm me, all the in-between stages do upset me.
So, today with my luxury of free time, I took a little trip down memory lane, via the express subway train, to the Brooklyn neighborhood where I lived in the early 1970's. It was extraordinary to see the changes since I last visited (maybe 10 years ago.)
My part of Brooklyn back then was made up of lots of brownstone houses (four stories tall) with the occasional governmental or other official-sort of building that would be about 10 stories. Well, not now. Many huge buildings have taken root across the old landscape. These are not architecturally beautiful buildings. They are just big. They have banks, or chain drugstores, or real estate firm offices on their ground floors.
I walked over to take a look at my old block. Many of the houses, including the one in which I lived, now have little plaques by their front door, that extol their status as historic land-marked buildings. My former residence was build in 1848. That is old by New York standards.
Across the street where I remember vacant lots, now stand new townhouses. Bland. Same height as the 1848 houses, but oh so bland. Sort of tepid variations of Michael Graves architecture. But the entire block now looks very, very expensive.
The biggest shock was what I saw covering the front door (parlor floor, or first floor level, UK style.) A very elaborate, but very strong and off-putting black wrought iron gate. The house now has its residents in jail. There is irony here, because back when I lived there, we joked about the Brooklyn House of Detention (i.e. a very tall jail) that was at the end of our block. Every now and then someone escaped, and there would be police all over the place, but mostly, it was just a very sad place where family members lined up around the block to see their detained loved ones during visiting hours.
So. Today, I saw what gentrification can do to a neighborhood in thirty years. Glamorized some parts. Mostly those parts that are bought and paid for, and safely enclosed behind iron bars. Back in the 1970's, we did not have a gate across our front door. We were artists, writers, film-makers to be, without much worth stealing. We had mainly our talents and our dreams of creating something we would be proud of.
I do wonder who now lives behind that wrought iron gate.
After this revelation, I walked back to the subway station, came back under the river to Manhattan, stopped by a great little coffee place to get some of their house blend (on sale) ground for my French press coffee maker. Then, back on another subway train, with David Mitchell's magic words, uptown to my current neighborhood. And I continued my painting.
Pleasant dreams to all.
It has now been over a week that I have not been in the shop. I admit that I have thought about the shop, and have even allowed my telephone's answering machine vigilance to let one call ... from the shop ... to come through. In the big picture, I am glad that I did answer that call.
Will try not to think about the info that it imparted until my return to the work place.
So. What have I been doing?
How wonderful to be able to make up my own personal schedule every day! I wake early and ease into the morning as it suits me. Sometimes, even as the days do grow shorter, I awake before daylight, courtesy of the noise from the construction site across the street, that noisily seeks to create very costly housing to replace the apartments in which many families raised many generations.
There are still many of my interests (baking, cooking real meals, seeing some more of my old friends) that I have to attend to. But, I have been painting away each day, working on this year's watercolor Christmas cards. I do so love making these little paintings. What is tricky is to not rush them. To approach each card as its own creativity. I just listen to FM radio in the background, and settle in with my brushes, water and paints. And the paper, of course. Time melts.
All of a sudden, early morning has turned to lunch time. I stop. Make a quick lunch. Toasted cheese sandwich. Tea. Apple. Back to painting.
And then there is the reading. Milla and Jane have, for a longish time, recommended to me the books of David Mitchell. Well, I went into the fiction level stacks of my wonderful library and found four books by Mr. Mitchell. I checked out his first novel. Ghostwritten. And since opening the book have been treating myself to his enormous talent. I am usually a fast reader, but in this case have been able to temper that so I can really appreciate the writer's talent.
Yes, I do have other books still on my to read stack, but they must wait for now.
Many days last week were rainy here, even as the west coast was partched and fires raged. My uncle lives near San Diego, and did voluntarily evacuate his beautiful home. Luckily, he was able to return home to find unwelcome sooty debris the only damage. Still. I am so glad that he did not elect to wait it out at home. The fires came within two miles of his house!
On the housing front, the new owners of this apartment building continue to post messages announcing the latest stages of their renovation plans. Updating the electrical infrastructure is now underway, necessitating the sealing of the stairway nearest "my" front door. The building does have three elevators, but I have preferred just walking down the stairs as the quickest way to the ground floor. Now, I must use an alternate staircase or just wait, and wait, for the elevator.
There is a chance that this electrical improvement may require entry to my own apartment, but I am promised prior notification.
In my heart, I feel that the renovation and its aftermath (the conversion of the building to a condominium/cooperative financial status) will not harm me, all the in-between stages do upset me.
So, today with my luxury of free time, I took a little trip down memory lane, via the express subway train, to the Brooklyn neighborhood where I lived in the early 1970's. It was extraordinary to see the changes since I last visited (maybe 10 years ago.)
My part of Brooklyn back then was made up of lots of brownstone houses (four stories tall) with the occasional governmental or other official-sort of building that would be about 10 stories. Well, not now. Many huge buildings have taken root across the old landscape. These are not architecturally beautiful buildings. They are just big. They have banks, or chain drugstores, or real estate firm offices on their ground floors.
I walked over to take a look at my old block. Many of the houses, including the one in which I lived, now have little plaques by their front door, that extol their status as historic land-marked buildings. My former residence was build in 1848. That is old by New York standards.
Across the street where I remember vacant lots, now stand new townhouses. Bland. Same height as the 1848 houses, but oh so bland. Sort of tepid variations of Michael Graves architecture. But the entire block now looks very, very expensive.
The biggest shock was what I saw covering the front door (parlor floor, or first floor level, UK style.) A very elaborate, but very strong and off-putting black wrought iron gate. The house now has its residents in jail. There is irony here, because back when I lived there, we joked about the Brooklyn House of Detention (i.e. a very tall jail) that was at the end of our block. Every now and then someone escaped, and there would be police all over the place, but mostly, it was just a very sad place where family members lined up around the block to see their detained loved ones during visiting hours.
So. Today, I saw what gentrification can do to a neighborhood in thirty years. Glamorized some parts. Mostly those parts that are bought and paid for, and safely enclosed behind iron bars. Back in the 1970's, we did not have a gate across our front door. We were artists, writers, film-makers to be, without much worth stealing. We had mainly our talents and our dreams of creating something we would be proud of.
I do wonder who now lives behind that wrought iron gate.
After this revelation, I walked back to the subway station, came back under the river to Manhattan, stopped by a great little coffee place to get some of their house blend (on sale) ground for my French press coffee maker. Then, back on another subway train, with David Mitchell's magic words, uptown to my current neighborhood. And I continued my painting.
Pleasant dreams to all.
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