Come one, come all, and revel as I navigate the ups and downs of the mundanities of my life. Thus far, my stomach-churning has been kept to a minimum, but I can't speak for my readers. You'll be riveted as you're kept on the edge of your seat, wondering, "Will the next post be the one that makes me lose my lunch??" Excitement, she wrote!

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Growing...a Green Thumb, Part I

Mid-April, during the last semi-cold-ish spell of the 2010 spring, I bought a pot of pansies. I was determined to green up our barren balcony. I was determined to keep a plant alive. This plant. Any plant.

I learned that pansies are a cold-weather plant, which was a bit disappointing because I knew the weather was only going to get warmer. But it was a lush, beautiful pot, and I figured if it was going to die as the weather got warmer, I might as well make the most of it and develop the self-discipline to take care of a plant. I developed a routine of watering it everyday and turning it periodically so each side of the plant got adequate sunshine. When it was excessively windy, I moved the pot indoors so the flowers wouldn't get too harsh a beating from the wind. I learned to pinch off the flowers that withered to give the other flowers more resources to grow bigger.

As the weather got warmer, experience taught me that the pansies would wilt from the heat, but would re-straighten with a good watering. I kept up the watering through May, but as of now, with the weather pretty consistently warm and periodically humid, the pansies are a little worse for wear, with one side of the pot pretty much dead yet the remaining portions inexplicably thriving. There is a lopsided look to the plant but I'll try to keep them alive as long as possible! I'm encouraged by the fact that I've kept a plant alive for 2 months now, which is certainly a record for me.

About a month after getting the pansies, feeling excited about my new balcony accessory, I got an herb-growing kit for $7 from, of all places, Bed Bath and Beyond. I was skeptical, but figured that for a few bucks, it was worth a shot to add some more greenery that was edible to boot. The herb-growing kit included a growing "tin/bucket", some soft dirt (looked like chocolate cake mix), liquid fertilizer, and seed packs for basil, parsley, and chives.

Here are the seedlings just starting to sprout. I was such a proud mama! As you can see from the first picture, the basil came up first, and the other herb sprouts are barely identifiable, although I guess you can tell they're chives because they just look like little grass blades.









The second photo above was taken a mere day later, so you can get a sense of how quickly the plants were growing! Although the parsley were definitely late bloomers - at this point they really hadn't come up at all and I was afraid the seeds were duds. Magic beans, so to speak.

A week later, though, the parsley definitely caught up! The sprouts were going into toddler-mode. What's interesting is that the parsley was NOT recognizable - instead of the jagged, maple-leaf like shape, their leaves were more like pointed ovals. In fact, Chris was pretty convinced that the parsley was actually the basil, but I'm going off on a tangent.

I watered the herbs daily and gave them liquid fertilizer about once a week and was really excited by their growth. I kept the tin pot on our windowsill, and had to rotate it once - sometimes even twice - a day because the herbs grew so conspicuously towards the sun. If you check out this photo, you can see that most clearly in the parsley (on the right side).

Towards the end of May, I made the heart-wrenching discovery that keeping the herbs indoors had one huge drawback that had mysteriously eluded me for the entire time since I'd had them - GRUNDTON. One afternoon, I caught him chewing voraciously (as much as a housecat can with a houseplant) at a few blades of chives, with several of the chives and a few of the parsley uprooted. Although I was hesitant to expose the herbs to really windy days, I decided they were grown up enough to start keeping them outdoors on the balcony with the pansies (and a completely wilted, dried up pot of dahlias that didn't take to my care).

This past weekend, I decided that the herbs were getting too big to still share a pot, so I transplanted the heartiest of the 3 - the basil (as the chives didn't seem to be recovering too well from Grundton's marauding, and the parsley were only so-so) - into its own container. The leaves are HUGE now! I was really nervous about the transplant and I tried to be really gentle as to not damage any roots. Now, a few days later, the basil seems to still be growing steadily and the leaves look healthy. Woohoo!! No plant murderer here. (Although I'm crossing my fingers on the chives and parsley. Although technically the murderer there would be Grundton.)
The newest member of the family is a couple of begonias I purchased at the same place I got the pansies - P. Spinelli & Sons, a landscape and nursery joint in Narberth. The begonias on the left (with the smaller flowers) enjoy a full sun, while the larger type of begonias on the right thrive in partial shade. I decided to go with begonias because we're getting into the heat of summer and I figured frost-averse flowers would last the longest at this time of year, and they don't require as diligent watering as the pansies.

I'm hoping that they continue to do well, and if they survive into mid-July, I'll definitely be looking into some new additions!

More plant updates to come...

Saturday, April 24, 2010

Crossroads

So I've had this business idea since college...

I think it would be really cool to open up an art gallery that turns into a lounge in the evening. The art would still stay up, but the mood of the lounge and the kind of music played would correspond to the style of the artist(s) displayed in the exhibition. They could rotate out every 2-3 weeks to keep the mood fresh.

I like to imagine that people who are attracted to new, interesting art also have tendencies - or at least, an open mind - toward non-mainstream, experimental music, and vice versa. Speaking as someone with synesthesia, I have always attributed images and colors to sounds, moods, and words; the numeral "4" is green, Nelly Furtado's voice is magenta, Autechre's "vose in" is a dark textile of a repeating filigree...like wallpaper. You could say my brain has a built-in universal translator that encodes all incoming sense perceptions as images, even if a bit fuzzy. It's a cool effect. Trust me.

But anyway, back to the original idea. A huge part of its appeal is the routine mental challenge I would get in mating visual art and music; not only would I be interpreting the creators' messages, but I would be doing so through another medium entirely - and a firsthand sensory one at that for the sake of the audience. I wouldn't be creating anything from scratch, but the reciprocity of what each medium can give to the other creates ... an Escher-like back-and-forth, if I were to paint a picture for you, that takes on an experience of its own. A polygon becomes a crane. A shuffling beat looks like a brushstroke. In marriage, they become something just a bit different.

I'll conclude this with an example of what I mean.

Enjoy.

Muscial Artist: Alva Noto
Album: Transform






Francois Morellet. "6 chance divisions of 4 black and white squares from odd and even numbers generated by Pi." 1958

















Sol LeWitt. "Serial Project #1, from Aspen 5+6." 1966

















Richard Serra. "Path and Edge #12." 2007


Monday, March 08, 2010

Singularity

I feel a vivid joy soaking into me,

being whipped out of me, fooling me

into thinking they are sensations different altogether.

I let the roiling afternoon clouds rile me up.

On the balcony, eye level is where those translucent

ombré fists – bright white, graying smudge, dirtied cotton –

nudge their way into the oily greens of the tree line,

intruding gently without guilt,

rippling verdant scales with

an infectious, tittering flutter.

Glissandos fan, its keys perk up my skin,

as liquid as the sky is blue.

Leaning into the edge, I feel the railing

restrain and hold me back from that saturated, maddening bliss.

It is the lure of being dashed into a million pieces,

joining a million leaves, back into the earth.


(August 2009)

Tuesday, April 07, 2009

Winter, Kiss My Giant Ass

This week I've been seized by the paradoxically titillating and paralyzing thrill of baseball beginning and Star Trek on the horizon.

First things first -

Yes, the Phillies are defending World Champions, and no, they still can't win a non-post-season game that's broadcast nationally. It's not that we don't do well under pressure because last September we ripped it up pretty damn hard. But pretty much unless Harry Kalas is speaking directly to local fans through the t.v. screen, it seems like the game is going to go to the other team. Also, as Manuel pointed out, the pre-game WC celebratory hoopla was a big distraction for players that thrive on consistency.

Bottom line is: good for the Braves that they looked good on opening day. For the first time since helping the Dodgers lose hold of the postseason last year (and to the Phils, no less), Derek Lowe gets to smile and feel like a big boy again, Smelly Johnson didn't commit any cringeworthy goofs, and Jeff Francoeur's hip swivel changes from last season were all that the ESPN commentators could talk about. I don't give a crap because winter is really over (unless you're in Chicago and your opening day got snowed out), and baseball is baaaaaack.

OK, now for the other thing that's really getting me in a tizzy.

Have you seen the trailers for Star Trek?

Have you?!

It's like God took all of my secret unmentionable fantasies and wove them together with his dextrous surgeon fingers into a visual (and I'm sure excellent storytelling) orgy that, come May 8 for $9.50, I can request to have explode directly into my face. And the fact that J.J. is directing this - J.J. of those Alias nights when I fell to my knees screaming his name in frustration over another edge-of-my-seat cliffhanger, J.J. of a little show called "Lost" known to about 99% of the U.S. population - is just enough to make me go completely, out-of-my-mind, on goofballs, crazy.

It's too much. All this in one week, it's just too much.