Old Smokey

On top of spaghetti all covered with cheese.
I lost my poor meatball when somebody sneezed.

It rolled off the table, it rolled on the floor,
And then my poor meatball rolled out of the door.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                   Tune by The Weavers (On Top of Old Smokey)

http://bussongs.com/songs/on-top-of-spaghetti.php

It all comes down to food in the end, doesn’t it? I have tried to avoid the subject, but there is no getting around it, is there? Here’s my recipe for Italian meatballs for the classic dish of spaghetti and meatballs.

1 lb. ground beef

¾ cup Italian bread crumbs

1 egg

½ cup shredded Parmesan cheese

2 slices American cheese, torn into bits

½ tsp. Kosher salt

¼ tsp. ground pepper

2 Tbsp. olive oil

Using hands, combine all ingredients thoroughly. I usually use disposable plastic gloves for this part to preserve manicureJ. In non-stick skillet, warm olive oil at medium high heat. Form meatballs into walnut sized, tightly packed orbs. Gently add each one into the pre-heated pan. Continue until all of the meat mixture is used. Gently turn with spatula until centers are fully cooked—20 minutes or so.

This recipe is a direct descendent of my mother’s recipe. Her meatballs were the size of tennis balls; mine, the size of walnuts for quicker, easier, more thorough cooking. Same evocative taste though. Funny how food, music, and fragrance can transport a soul right back to childhood, college life, travel on the road…

When I smell the classic Chanel No. 5, I invariably expect my dad to appear in his tuxedo (with extra wide bow tie a la 1970’s) and my mom in her gown, complete with (fake) fur, ready to go out for the evening. This meant only one thing, of course, the impending arrival of a babysitter with the chance to sneak by bedtime into the wee hours of the night (10pm). Accompanying this fragrance is the wafting from the oven where aluminum trays of Hungry Man tv dinners were heating; Salisbury steak with apple pie being the cuisine de choix. My brothers and I could and would sing rousing renditions of the children’s classic, On Top of Spaghetti while we waited for the events of our parents’ evening out to unfold.

So I make these meatballs every so often for my family to the same rave reviews. It puts persons in a great mood; but strangely enough, leads to arguments after this particular meal more often than not. Why is that? Arguments in the present and a generation ago. Strangely odd odds… Feels better to put this tidbit of my childhood out there in the “ether”.  Perhaps someone can add to this phenomenon if it resonates?

Cloud Collage

This late day cloud formation is lit in such a way that it seems as if the clouds were made of paper and were pasted on top of each other.

J. Vermeer View of Delft (1659-60)

http://www.wga.hu/frames-e.html?/html/v/vermeer/02c/13view.html

Another influence on my photographic efforts must come from studying the small body of paintings (only 35 canvases) of J. Vermeer. He was interested in realistic perspective, use of the camera obscura, and of course, lighting on his bourgeoisie subjects.

In the View of Delft (above), Vermeer creates actual texture via the pigment and brushstrokes for a sandy, grainy, coarse foreground where the smaller scale persons are standing. The surface of the river water is relatively flat and smooth on the actual paint surface compared to the buildings and ground. The chiaroscuro found in the sky with dark and light clouds influence my photographic sensibilities with my cloud work. (I first learned of these techniques from a PBS program on Vermeer).

Topsy-turvy Eden

What is going on here?
Perhaps it is a zero-gravity nursery?

Monster sunflower in a community garden in Frederick, MD.

Garden Hose Mandala

Orange

Here's a homegrown dahlia in an Orrefors vase (a wedding present from kdw).

I like how the parallel lines of the placemat pattern is refracted through the crystal.

Who likes ranunculi?

I am a big fan of the soft, multi-petaled, fickle-to-grow floral.

Who can identify this landmark?

Hint: it houses landmarks.

Bonus: What is the subject of the frieze?

First one to answer correctly (in comments) has my kudos and certain bragging rights....

Rockets' Red Glare

A Proper Sunset

Fourth Fireworks

At Langley

Badge of Honor

shout·cast

[showt-kast, -kahst]verb, shout·cast or shout·cast·ed, shout·cast·ing, noun, adjective, adverb, verb (used with object)

1.   to transmit (message) at high volume person to person at close range, usually unintentionally. See vintage “Saturday Night Live” skits, “News from Ten Feet Away” http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xktxv5_saturday-night-live-news-from-ten-feet-away_fun .

It’s funny what kids remember and when they choose to share their recollections. My son recently recounted an episode from his days almost a decade ago at his Montessori pre-school. A little background first—he’s always been drawn to badges: shiny sheriff’s badges in the shape of a star, Boy Scout merit badges, and the like.

Moreover, he really enjoys figuring out how things operate. So he spent a lot of time using the pump-action little sink in his pre-school classroom. He told me that he would spend as much time as possible trying to fill a little bucket, ounce-by-hard-earned-ounce, before the “directress” (Montessori speak for teacher) would re-direct him to another activity. I disabused him of the notion that this little wooden cabinet with sink was attached to the main water line. Always the empiricist, he asked for proof, which I provided in the observation that the assistant directress would bring in a fresh bucket of water in the morning and put it in the cabinet. We think there was a second bucket for the drain!

Once this Everest was climbed, my dear son turned his attention to the chair and desk washing activity. A Montessori classroom, where “play is the work of the child” (Maria Montessori), is an orderly display of “gifts” (F. Froebel) accessible for educational exploration. Once he received the lesson on chair/desk washing, he enlisted the help of his fellow explorers. With a rousing call to rival Henry V on St. Crispin’s Day, my son said, “Let’s scrub them so clean, we’ll get a badge of honor!” And so they set out to do so.

At the end of the long arduous day (noon), his directress presented him with a… wait for it… Badge of Honor! By his own account, she “totally blew his mind! How did she know?!” She, of course, being the ever-vigilant but never-interfering directress, was in earshot earlier in the day whilst the plans were being made; or as my son puts it, “probably shoutcasted”.

Thanks to KK for making a distinct difference in my son’s life…

Veddy Arch

Flamingos in the Garden

Blizzard!

Who remembers "Snowmaggedon 2010"? 

Last year, no snow at all in DC Metro area. 

Wonder what this winter will bring?

Searching for signs of life in the blogosphere.

Anyone out there?

Post a comment please...

Sign of Life

So my mother has many sayings, thoughts really; and one of them is that life is insuppressible. That life finds a way, even in the harshest of climes. Great Falls Park is teeming with life, of course; is that lichen on the side of the boulders?

So there's my mom, being the focal spot of color in this composition. This is after a hurricane at Bethany Beach, DE.

Look Upward

Trying hard to get home before sunset; but I knew that I had to stop to shoot this unusually curly Q lamp in the parking lot of Little Falls Church in Arlington. I particularly like the orange glow-- reminds me of long ago on a movie set or such.

Little Falls Church steeple against cirrus clouds. The cross seems a bit forlorn....

Yes, I know, it's another entry in the McLean/Great Falls signage series; but I couldn't help myself. I feel like this could have been taken in the great southwest with its open skies.

Stormy Weather

"Pray don't talk to me about the weather, Mr. Worthing. Whenever people talk to me about the weather, I always feel quite certain that they mean something else. And that makes me so nervous."                        

                                                                 –Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest

I am suffering the after-effects of a bout of insomnia; so I thought I'd try my hand at the written blog...

Friday night (8/10/12) marked six weeks to the hour of the derecho that blew through the East Coast from Fredericksburg to New York. As the wind picked up and the rain started to fall with its staccato rhythm on the roof, my thoughts turned to the three powerless days and nights at the end of June. My dear friend, VH, who is quite the linguist, educated me about the Spanish word, derecho, meaning “to the right” or in our case, “directly”. She also let me know about the Latin word, ciborium, which is the covered container for the host and magnum, a large amphora for wine storage. But I digress…

Last night’s thunderstorm was no match for the stroboscopic wind storm that blew in with such ferocity from the Midwest. I have lived here for most of my life and have never seen such a display. The next few days, as it became evident that much patience would be required, gave new meaning to “clamminess”. We took refuge in the basement like many of our compatriots, where it was indeed cooler, but clammier, a la cave dwelling--indoor camping. I read in The Washington Post that a gentleman who was raised in the South heard that a Washingtonian denizen “would die” without air-conditioning; he was quoted as saying, “No, you won’t die; it’s just hot!” Which brings me to my point… as I met ladies whose usually impeccable coiffures were in full resort (hurricane) state of non-style (you looked marvelous, ladies!) around town, it put into high relief the fragility of our collective tether to the Grid. I have to ask, how did the colonialists do it in Tidewater Virginia in Williamsburg and Jamestown? The settlers were in full western European garb—long skirts with petticoats, woolen breeches and stockings. The indigenous peoples must have been rendered speechless at such sartorial madness.

I was heartened by the rule of civility on the road at darkened intersections—slower speeds, drivers’ eye contact and plenty of hand-signalling. Neighbors practicing neighborly behavior. It took me back a few decades to my childhood that had a greater share of societal connectivity; you remember, the real kind—person-to-person. Everyone: re-charge.

Glass Houses

View from HHMI Janelia Farm roof level (Ashburn). They are growing foliage on top of this ecologically camouflaged serpentine building.

Opera House sparkles with anticipation...

Old Glory from the Odyssey.

Lost and Found

Here's a countertop from a coffee shop that we frequent whenever we are in Frederick, MD on Shab Row. I believe this is an example of "found" art.

I call this "Pont de Famille", found on Lake Anne in Reston. Sometimes our relationship with those we are closest to (our family of origin) seems to need a little extra effort to span the gap, right? 

Room with a View

This view reminds me of a painting that hangs in the home of my dear friend, mlw; I believe the original artist worked from the Torpedo Factory in Old Town Alexandria. The painting was of an expansive sycamore with its characteristic peeling bark.

It also puts me in mind of V. van Gogh's masterpiece, Blossoming Almond Tree (Amsterdam). It was painted for his namesake nephew's birth.

http://www.vggallery.com/painting/p_0671.htm

Here is a December view from same window, same trees, different nest.

Puts me in mind of C. Monet's famous series of the Rouen Cathedral (below). 

He painted the same facade at different times of the day.

http://www.theartwolf.com/monet_cathedral.htm

I Saw the Sign...

Transitioning from Clouds to Night Signs...

Who among us remembers E. Costello's "She"?

She...

May be my treasure or the price I have to pay

She may be the song the summer sings

May be the chill the autumn brings

May be a hundred different things

Within the measure of a day

Read more: ELVIS COSTELLO - SHE LYRICS http://www.metrolyrics.com/she-lyrics-elvis-costello.html#ixzz239kgc4eo 
Copied from MetroLyrics.com 

For some reason this puts me in a Dilbert state of mind; perhaps it is a plea to Escape Elbonia? Anyway, I particularly like the drama contained in a pedestrian sign about town.

Gifts from above

Sometimes, gifts just drop from the sky. I opened my garage door last night to go on my photo safari to hunt the elusive night shot; and like a curtain rising on the largest stage of all, my eyes (and now, yours) beheld this scene... 

Who remembers the passage from Tracey Chevalier's Girl with a Pearl Earring where Vermeer asks Griet to describe the color of the clouds as seen from the iconic window of his atelier? She immediately responds with white, the classic answer; then upon deeper reflection, she gives the painterly response.

Also, see my more recent post called "Cloud Collage" for more thoughts on this theme.

cbp sez:

Hi Janet! 

Love your work! Thanks very much for sharing your blog. 

BTW, what is your doctoral area? 

ed: from cbp

photoEssay on Light

tower view

Morven Park

alabaster & lead

What is more important to the artistic eye than the play of LIGHT on the rose petal-sized retina of "rods and cones"? 

The warm translucence of rays through alabaster or the brilliant incandescent fire diffracted by crystal is best captured by virtual film.

ihs sez:

Nice!- looks very Georgia O'Keefe'ish! You are getting more and more artistic by the year :o) 

ed: from ihs

Lighting the Way

I suppose the question that I have after the first blush of creative expression has occurred, is how does one refrain from producing "derivatives"? I know that art students will sojourn to galleries to study the Masters, recreating what they see in front of them. Obviously, these masters of their craft showed their genius by creating views that were never seen before.

Is it a case of learning a lot of technique and showing mastery of them first; then the springboard leap becomes across a chasm not so wide? Maybe there are commonalities between fine art forms and other disciplines, such as engineering/technology, that participants would build upon mastery of fundamentals?

thoughts?

mlw sez:

What a FUN series! Great job with line and shape! You also have done fabulous work with composition and hue. Some areas you might want to think about, if you’d truly like a studio critique, are saturation of hue, contrast, and lights versus darks (highlights and shadows). Working with pastels you can also utilize techniques such as smudging and mixing colors. Are you taking a class? Or, is this just summer [reverie]!

ed.: from mlw

Pastels "with pits"

eggplant

avocado

peach & cherries