Easter Island in the neighborhood

We have a neighbor who is an artist, a painter and sculpturer, who has been busy lately with commissions in environmental art installations.  Most of his projects are onsite somewhere else, in another state or city or public park, but since this spring, he's been busy erecting concrete forms in front of his house, and one by one, these concrete towers each with a rectangular window have sprung up along the street, sentry-like in formation.

I think the towers are pretty cool; they have become a conversation piece as passersby stop and ask what the heck is going on.  Admittedly, there is a fortress like quality to the towers, so that some folks have assumed that our neighbor has decided to defend himself against ... uh, the City's code enforcement officers?  Perhaps the enforcers of our local Law and Order have tried, but apparently there is nothing in the code that says you can't have concrete obelisks in front of your house.  So, there.

The mysterious obelisks are in fact, "view towers," designed to direct your view to certain vistas.  The towers were commissioned for a park project where they would be installed at key locations, and each of the windows will eventually house an eye piece that will be trained on an object in the distance.   Or, so it has been explained to us.

The towers have been on the street for a while awaiting transit visas, I imagine, to be issued by the proper authorities.  In the meantime, we couldn't resist, and one day, we placed some votives and oranges in the openings as an offering of sorts.  It was ignored for several days, and then, the voodoo curse was returned upon our front door, complete with bleached out skull and pentagram. yikes. 

More recently, while my neighbor appeared to be away, I went to check out the "directed views" through the windows -- and much like a photograph, I really enjoyed the different perspectives created by each framed view.

Spices from Egypt

It must be four, perhaps five years ago that my friend Paul went on a grand tour of Egypt with his family. He brought back for me a string of spices that he purchased at an open market; I imagine that the spices were all stacked up in aromatic pyramids and from there the vendor scooped a bit into each of these little packets for the tourists from the West.

I could never break open the spices because they were so beautiful in their packets, and the handwritten labels exotically accented in their idiomatic spelling that you can almost hear the vendor calling out the names: Rose Marry, seZam, Lora...

Of course, I wanted to preserve these spices as they were forever, but the writing is now starting to fade, and with the exception of the indigo, the spices don't appear as vibrant as they once were. So, before the black marker fades completely, and the plastic bags begin to crumble, I held a photographic preservation session with the spice packets.

The very top packet is filled with hibiscus flowers, the only packet that wasn't labeled.

And then followed by the Saffrons:

Indian Saffron powder

Egyptian Saffron powder

Indian Saffron flowers

Egyptian Saffron flowers

Cinnimon Powder

Cinnimon Stakes

InDigo

Indigo as a spice?  Not to be consumed, but used as a brightener for whites in the laundry, I am told.

SeZAM

Rose Marry

Lora

Black Cumin

Ginger

Organo

Chily

Anis

The Last of the Bialys

Not included in my recent cataloging of Eats Back East was my visit to Kossar's on the last morning we spent in New York City. I trekked down to Kossar's - a short three blocks from where we were staying - to pick up a baker's dozen to bring back to California. On July 4, a month since we've been back, and I've just taken out the very last bialy from the freezer. Who knows when I'll get to have a good decent bialy again.

What's in a street name?

Saintly Streets Tell a City's Long Tale

This story brought back memories of moving to California from New York City in the mid-eighties, marveling at the exotic imagery so casually invoked by the designations for the towns, their streets and avenues.  I'm inspired to find his exhibit next time I'm down in the City of Angels.

 

Hippeastrum Chronicles 1/26 to 2/15

Jan 26, 2008  First sign of life emerging.  This was a gift from a friend 2 X'mas' ago.  A new challenge because it was my very first Amaryllis.  It turned out to be a beautiful white bloomer; I think it rebloomed three times before it became a much smaller bulb.  So, this is its second season.  Not quite sure if it's had enough rest and recuperation.
Feb 8, 2008  A very straight and narrow leaf has emerged.  Hmm... not enough energy to send up a bloom.
Feb 13, 2008   And then, something is peeking out.
Feb 14, 2008  And there is daily progress.
Feb 15, 2008  It looks like it's going to send up some blooms!

On Suburbia

The end of suburbia as we know it?
In the March issue of the Atlantic Magazine, a look at suburbia as we know it, and the idea that it may be even less sustainable than we we thought it was.

What Main Street can Learn from the Mall

The thinking that goes into the design and layout of a shopping mall:  I suppose it makes perfect sense that a background in landscape architecture would be well suited to take this to the next level.

A Stressful Finish

How interesting it is that the cracks and flaking are concentrated around the word "stress." Makes me wonder if, somehow, this was all intentional. But I think ... not.

After talking to some of my informants in the construction trade here and there, it seems that this unsightly finish came about because:

Although the low wall was freshly poured, for some reason, the outer surface was finished with a sack mix, applied in a 1/8" or so thick layer. You can see some of the aggregate from the inside concrete layer in the photo where the letters have been routered. Obviously, the lettering was carved in after this thin plaster-like layer was applied. While additional care in the curing and application of the sack mix may have alleviated some of the flaking and mosaic cracks on the surface, such failure was probably inevitable given the waterfront location of the wall where it is constantly exposed to extremes in moisture. The better choice would have been to carve the letters in the wall without applying the additional layer of concrete. Of course, a more elegant and permanent solution would have been to use a granite stone or such, with finer workmanship as would have befit the occasion (this is a memorial tribute at the Rosie the Riveter Memorial Park in Richmond, Calif.)

Compare the understated but beautiful presentation of the message at the National AIDS Memorial Grove in Golden Gate Park, below.