Tea: Christmas
Music: Stevie Ray Vaughan and Double Trouble, "Pride and Joy"
Time: Night.
I walked on some perfectly good jasmine tea tonight, and I didn't get in trouble.
The tea is an integral part of printmaker Heinrich Toh's exhibit at the Kansas City Artists Coalition. (It runs through Jan. 16, so go see it. No, I'm not explaining why I didn't get in trouble for stepping on the tea. Some things you have to check out for yourselves.)
The scent is still with me, in memory as much as in the physical sense.
I associate jasmine with the first time I discovered loose-leaf tea (I was eight) ... with the Hong Kong Restaurant (which no longer exists) in my hometown ... with an early spring visit to Arizona ... and now, with one of the many artists whose work enriches my current home city.
Not a bad set of associations, that ...
Showing posts with label Second Friday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Second Friday. Show all posts
Friday, December 12, 2008
Friday, October 10, 2008
Single-Region Courtesy
Tea: Chinese Melon Seed
Music: Norah Jones, "Come Away with Me"
Time: Night.
Being a freelance writer, just building a career, I am bound by a state law requiring me to be broke at nearly all times. So when arts events with free food and drink surface on my calendar, as they do nearly every Friday, I count them as gratitudes. It does get me wondering, though ... what do I bring to the table, besides a pen, a notebook and the hope of being written about?
A beyond-dear friend of mine is in the same leaky economic boat. Still, she takes good chocolate with her wherever she goes and shares it liberally -- not with the aim of getting anything in return, but because she is a sharer. It makes her happy to treat people to new tastes.
That's not why people are glad to see her, though. They're glad to see her because she treats people as people -- not as parts of the machines they operate, not as cogs in the engines they serve. In today's hurried world, that's a rare thing.
It's a lesson for me. I often have to go empty-handed, physically ... but each of us can offer the gift of interest in other people, the taste of respect and regard. It's both sweet and nourishing -- to everyone involved -- listen, ask questions, cut down on the use of the pronoun "I" unless it's absolutely necessary.
Best of all? No calories.
Tonight's scary story: John Kendrick Bangs, "The Spectre Cook of Bangletop"
Music: Norah Jones, "Come Away with Me"
Time: Night.
Being a freelance writer, just building a career, I am bound by a state law requiring me to be broke at nearly all times. So when arts events with free food and drink surface on my calendar, as they do nearly every Friday, I count them as gratitudes. It does get me wondering, though ... what do I bring to the table, besides a pen, a notebook and the hope of being written about?
A beyond-dear friend of mine is in the same leaky economic boat. Still, she takes good chocolate with her wherever she goes and shares it liberally -- not with the aim of getting anything in return, but because she is a sharer. It makes her happy to treat people to new tastes.
That's not why people are glad to see her, though. They're glad to see her because she treats people as people -- not as parts of the machines they operate, not as cogs in the engines they serve. In today's hurried world, that's a rare thing.
It's a lesson for me. I often have to go empty-handed, physically ... but each of us can offer the gift of interest in other people, the taste of respect and regard. It's both sweet and nourishing -- to everyone involved -- listen, ask questions, cut down on the use of the pronoun "I" unless it's absolutely necessary.
Best of all? No calories.
Tonight's scary story: John Kendrick Bangs, "The Spectre Cook of Bangletop"
Friday, August 8, 2008
Going Walkies, Part I
Tea: Mandarin Green, iced.
Music: The Proclaimers, "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)"
Time: Afternoon.
Just got in from another ten-mile hike, this one at Fleming Park in Blue Springs, Missouri.
The time was better, the trails largely meh. The "rougher" trail disappeared at times into long grass (always fun in tick country), and the trail to which it connected presented little physical challenge beyond the distance involved.
Plus which, the foraging opportunities were all but nonexistent. There were no wood ears to be found, the prickly pears are at least a week short of ripeness -- and the only blackberry patch we located was guarded jealously by a stand of poison ivy.
Oh, well. The two-plus hours alone with my son did give us time to talk -- and for me to reassure him that, if need be, I can still take him.
Now, I'm headed up to Kansas City, Kansas, for a walk of another sort -- the Second Friday Art Walk. And I'm wearing my "Carnivore" shirt.
There might be barbecue foraging opportunities, you know.
Tune in next time for "Going Walkies, Part II." Because this time, it's personal.
Music: The Proclaimers, "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)"
Time: Afternoon.
Just got in from another ten-mile hike, this one at Fleming Park in Blue Springs, Missouri.
The time was better, the trails largely meh. The "rougher" trail disappeared at times into long grass (always fun in tick country), and the trail to which it connected presented little physical challenge beyond the distance involved.
Plus which, the foraging opportunities were all but nonexistent. There were no wood ears to be found, the prickly pears are at least a week short of ripeness -- and the only blackberry patch we located was guarded jealously by a stand of poison ivy.
Oh, well. The two-plus hours alone with my son did give us time to talk -- and for me to reassure him that, if need be, I can still take him.
Now, I'm headed up to Kansas City, Kansas, for a walk of another sort -- the Second Friday Art Walk. And I'm wearing my "Carnivore" shirt.
There might be barbecue foraging opportunities, you know.
Tune in next time for "Going Walkies, Part II." Because this time, it's personal.
Friday, December 14, 2007
An Arts Scene Hiding in Plain Sight
Tea: Lapsang Vanilla
Music: Various jazz pieces for keyboard, bass and guitar.
Time: Night.
I love Fridays. I especially love Friday nights. One reason out of several: That's when the new art exhibits go up.
Around here, that's usually First Friday. But one place, the Saucy Hound Gallery on Westport Road, celebrates Second Friday. So far as the people there know, it's the only place that does.
The Saucy Hound isn't your typical art space. It's a real estate office. But for the past two years, on the second Friday night of each month, it opens a new showing of art.
This time, the featured artist is Todd Lawrence, whose drawings can be seen on his website (and also should be seen in person to get the full effect).
I love the idea of real estate offices, coffeehouses (independent, of course), even dentist's offices doubling as galleries. Art should be a part of everyday life, not partitioned off from it. And the more places that showcase original art, the better. Not that there's anything wrong with prints -- but does the world really need one more framed "Starry Night" poster on pubic display when there's a world of one-of-a-kinds out there?
Music: Various jazz pieces for keyboard, bass and guitar.
Time: Night.
I love Fridays. I especially love Friday nights. One reason out of several: That's when the new art exhibits go up.
Around here, that's usually First Friday. But one place, the Saucy Hound Gallery on Westport Road, celebrates Second Friday. So far as the people there know, it's the only place that does.
The Saucy Hound isn't your typical art space. It's a real estate office. But for the past two years, on the second Friday night of each month, it opens a new showing of art.
This time, the featured artist is Todd Lawrence, whose drawings can be seen on his website (and also should be seen in person to get the full effect).
I love the idea of real estate offices, coffeehouses (independent, of course), even dentist's offices doubling as galleries. Art should be a part of everyday life, not partitioned off from it. And the more places that showcase original art, the better. Not that there's anything wrong with prints -- but does the world really need one more framed "Starry Night" poster on pubic display when there's a world of one-of-a-kinds out there?
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