Catch up


The day at sea coming back was relatively uneventful--with the same hanging out vibe in a new place--a cool, pickled pine/tiled place called the Spa Cafe. The fare was totally our stuff--fruit, simple stuff, yogurt, simple salads etc...not the blow out happening in other parts of the boat. The Spa Cafe ajoins the Spa (no duh) and the exercise rooms which have full length windows looking out on the water--with the water being the centerpiece to the decorating versus the swirly rugs right out of Los Vegas.They had a barber and a beauty salon with this same look and feel...much cooler, and "more Calvin Klein"--which attracted a group of people that didn't go for the broad offerings of the boat. I wish somehow, they had some sort of callout in their discussions of the boat to acknowledge this cut...as there is an equally huge cash stream for them (spa services start well above $300 a treatment). They might even consider some programming on shore for this same cut...something a little less "free liquor" and smarter...Oh well, I am not in charge of this...and no one asked me what I think.

We steered clear of the main centerpiece of the action...the pools with an offtune "reggae" band, tables upon tables of grub and men in "fun" shirts selling buckets of beer to anyone that will give them their card to charge it to. Lots of naked bodies on deck chairs, lots of boys shooting hoops in the blazing sun, and babes (or babes at heart) were draped around the pool for ornamentation. Lots more drinking for a lot of people. There were chats on how to detox your body (combined with the sale of Evian water for $4.00 a bottle with the slogan about detoxing), an insightful talk on accupuncture. There was bingo playing, and a truly nasty "art" auction of work that were "serigraphs on canvas" etc. with the big names including Chagall, Peter Max and my favorite, Thomas Kinkade (not!).This whole thing really felt like these less than saavy people were totally being taken to the cleaners with stuff that was high priced and promised to be a good investment. Again...more like the diamonds and stuff the cruise line can make money on...and bigtime...albeit the casino probably is the cash cow along with alcohol by the bottle and glass onboard. There were tables set up on the pool deck with things on "sale"--the kind of stuff one buys at the dollar store shows in Los Vegas that cost $3.00 and look like $25.

The final big dinner ended with a rousing "attaboy" presentation with every Tom, Dick and Jose from the dining rooms and kitchen cited and presented with a fanfare in a plea (pretty unveiled) to tip well and finished with a "parade of the cakes" which entailed each waiter bringing a baked alaska to his tables and serving it to K and A's total delight. We were directed to get our baggage outside our rooms by eleven p.m. as it will be ready to pick up prior to going through customs. The key to Celebrity's disembarkation process is linked to the color and number of the preassigned baggage tags. One is given a time to go to a location from which you are taken out the front of the boat and into a huge holding area that you pick up your bags and go through customs. Pretty chop chop and admirable. When it comes to organization, these guys know what they are doing. They are great at the basics... its the style points they falter on...but to be fair--there are original Lichtenstein and Warhol prints all over the boat in common areas like the dining rooms and elevator banks...which was a big surprise and kind of lifted things a little out of the norm. And they do have something for everyone except for the excursions...but I know they are meeting the bulk of their customer's expections.

I am going to post this and come back as Monday was fun and I don't want to forget about it.

Day Five: Cozumel


Formal night was hysterical. Everything from pedal pushers to the full dress-up monty. Tons of fantasy photography taken…from on the glass and brass staircase to drops of sunsets or starry skies. The photographer used very flat lighting and was focused on how the hands of the couples were posed…down to the displaying of the big new jewels acquired for this very special occasion. For many, it was a night to remember—down to the hangovers they had the next day. The dinner was as magical as the place could be—with these really nice painted shades pulled over the windows that felt somehow “Viennese” with sappy (albeit) string music to match. The food was very good and beautifully presented. Service with lots of patter and cotton gloves. Thereis a lot of mojo around how cloth napkins are used from tucked around the serving sleeve to protect the waiter from dipping his sleeve in the sauce, to covering plates etc. Did I mention, while I am on the subject of cloth, that there is very little paper used aboard? No paper towels, no little bottles of goodies in the rooms, no wrappings around things. Cloth everywhere which is very nice and very conscious of the garbage that this floating hotel is capable of making. I think land based hotels should learn from this experience…it is much luxe-er and at the same time—much more environmental. They do offer shampoo and the like, just in dispensers in each shower. And little rolled hand towels in the public bathrooms in golden pyramids. Quilted paper mats on the trays with linen napkins stacked high and white.

The water finally decided to move a little and take the ship with it. It got a little rock and roll in the night—with the side of the boat being banged by the water—making listening to the boat—giving a heartbeat along with the hum the machines make to run it. The wristbands came into play to my shock and pleasure that this homeopathic approach really does work. It was rolling even in the shower—. R and I consoled each other to compare it to Amtrack from Philadelphia to NYC or just riding the #1 train to Times Square. Nothing more than that. We had a long chat with breakfast with our friends…surfacing all sorts of stuff that is interesting about the cruise, the boat people and the opportunities at Boisbuchet, France. Here are Boisbuchet's offerings for 2007>> It was fun to talk randomly about the wider world beyond our little plateau and the opportunities for art and ideas.

The boat docked exactly at 11 at Cozumel. K was signed up for a boating and snorkeling adventure which turned into that and a whole lot more (read “open bar” and a bunch of boat people rowdies showing off to each other with drunken antics that included pouring bottles of beer over their own heads). The fish were good. R, A and I went to the town to see the sights. I kick myself that I didn’t dig deeper over researching what to do in these ports. The Cruise companies are in business to make money—and they hype and promote those activities they are plugged into on shore that would appeal to the 80% of their customers—jewelry and diamond shopping, their excursions into the wilds and spa and beauty services onboard. Museums and off beat stuff we like is not money making. We had a nice lunch and walked into the town—away from the endless stores of jewelry, silver, woven colored material and into the land of the painted letter and colored buildings. As we wandered deeper into the town, the color, texture and extraordinary hand lettering and sign painting came to the fore as what to see in Cozumel. Some pretty phenomenal thick and thin scripts, pictures of things to decorate and inform what the company sold or provided services for. We also visited a very vernacular church with stone floors and vitines (like store windows) filled with the statue of the saint in question, artifical flowers and decoration and sometimes accompanied by pictures of the people she/he have saved, toys and children’s objects as thank you gifts. There is extraordinary color and texture everywhere—that the inspiration to come back to Mexico (not on a boat seems appealing just to do a deeper dive into that world.

It seems that part of Cozumel has been hit rather hard by a hurricane as there was a lot of broken cement pilons and according to Kitty, the coral reefs injured in this process. There isn’t a lot of money here—just the flow that comes in from the boats (and are captured by the boats at the stores they set up or have agreements with)—so there is a lot of rubble and decay among all of that that stands.

Love this lettering and the rather basic illlustration of the barracuda combined with the drop shadow SPA reading in a wonderfully asian way. Do you think that the asians way back when came from Mexico (like the Mormons?) and taught the asians how to read and write the correct way? Love the colors and the way they bounce of the terra cotta orange.
K and A’s friends got drunk on shore and came back on the boat buzzed. I guess the drinking age is based on whether you can pay or not. This was shocking for our friends…but illuminating as it doesn’t happen in our world this way. A. is relishing the friends, the hanging out, the basketball and the hot and cold running food. Kitty is also enchanted but I think is sometimes saddened by the people and experiences not matching her romantic and high expectations of what she thinks should be going on.

It has all been very educational and illuminating for all of us, our expectations and their real resolution. More later>>

Day Four: Key West



We woke up to find out we were in Key West! We had breakfast with our friends in our new spot, which I will christen the Norwegian deck, as it is very simple with teak furniture and a big tarp over the whole area. No brass, no wallpaper, no upholstery, no fancy nothing. Just simple and nice. R. and I had lox for breakfast. No carbs, no sugar, no waffles no nothing. And, they have WF coffee machines (again, very German in a good way) that had great coffee (no key). So we had a nice time with simple fare under the big white tarp overlooking turquoise water with people parasailing over the beaches.

We had until 1:45 to see some sights as the ship left at 2 on our way to Cozumel for tomorrow’s activities. We walked around and found a post office for Judy taking in the neighborhoods and the local architecture when one leaves the proximity of the boat. The boat area is nice—but they are there for the quick buck that the boat folks want to spend.
We toured the John James Audubon house with original prints. It wasn’t really Audubon’s house, it was a wrecker, Mr. Geiger’s house—but was restored by the Mitchell Wolfson family (their son is the founder of the fabulous Wolfsonian Museum in Miami). The Wolfsons wanted to give their Audubon collection of prints and paintings a home and also wanted to commemorate Audubon’s time spent in the Florida Keys.

What is wrecker, you ask? Well. A wrecker is someone who watches the boats (in the 1800s) become grounded in the Key West area. He rescues the people—bringing them to shore—and salvages all the stuff on the boat and claims it as his own. You can imagine the line of trade and economy around this particular line of work.

Back to the house. Same era as the Camp House. Much of the same woodwork details but some nice southern inside>outside designs with large doors cut in half a la shutter doors, and some good colors. It had our exact banister and spindles. A weird bunch of antiques…but the dining room had placemats exactly like the ones my great grandmother made and used, and my mother still uses. It was terrific to see the context those cotton mats came from. They also had a lovely four-poster/canopy bed covered in a printed material a la April Cornell with a wide bolster in place of where the pillows go, and the canopy being extremely tailored and masculine in this same fabric. Really good looking.
The Audubon’s were inspiring, as you all know I am taken with him. The simpler the picture—even down to no background or anything, the better. Opened beaks are key. Pare back the detail. Stick to the gesture and feeling of the bird.

I am charged for more. Bring em on.

We walked down by the fishing boats with Steve and Judy as guides as they do quite a bit of this sort of thing. Saw a bunch of yellow-headed pelicans and massive tarpon fishes with their funny under bite and enormous size. Wished we could have seen more fish and birds. Drank some cool drinks and watched the chickens who free range the island walk in and out of this massive shed of a restaurant most of our amusement. Kitty sprinkled saltines so we could try to take pictures of them.

Back to the boat on time. We were offered water and cold towels upon our arrival. We set sail just as promised at 2. The Boat folks were crowding the pools a with competition on Prince and Princess of the Celebrity Cruise… Spanning the bridge between the pools were more carved watermelons and other fruit and 2 ice sculptures.

K and A were teening. R and I found ourselves back in on Norweigan Deck for salad and tea.

Formal night awaits. My camera is ready!

Day Three: Ships Ahoy!



We spent the night at the Mercury which was restful. R. had to go to a meeting, my camera had decided to crap out and provisions needed to be obtained. We took a quicky
trip to Walgreens to buy 3 mbrellas, a cheapie Kodak digital “point ‘n’ shoot”, toothpaste and the like. On the 5 block walk back, we were caught in a phenomenal downpour—flooding the streets, pouring down buckets—and nipped into the Big Pink (also on Collins Avenue) for a lengthly, late breakfast to watch ports on t.v. and the local color.
We then plowed across the street (stepping into puddles that came up to my knees!) to finish our packing, open the packages and get ready to board the boat.

Now. In the world of cruising, there is a lot of information that just isn’t there. I looked for specifics…dug in…and its just not there. Like when to board. On the printed information, they said 2:00 p.m. but, once we checked in, we found we could have started earlier (at 11 a.m.)—to dovetail hotel check-out and boat check-in. We got to the Port of Miami around 1:00—and saw the boat towering in the harbor. It was very brisk and friendly getting on the boat with relatively short waiting in lines and folks doing the check in were very informative, nice and low key. There was a security check-in just like the airport—and the issuance of the key from whence “all blessings flow”—and from whence everything is charged. Essentially, the key is key.

It was impressive to see the boat dead on from the gang plank. Impressively big and truly inconceivable. We loved it. When entering the boat, there are vases of fresh flowers, in our case, perfect pink roses and lilies that greet you with a line-up of attractive men in cream colored suits who, if they could have, would have sung “Be our Guest”. They guided the dazed and bewildered me, and the charmed and engaged K. and A. to our rooms where we rearranged all of our stuff while watching the safety film about how to behave on board, what to do/not to do—featuring some very ordinary actors who make it conceiveable as they look like 90% of the people on board. The minute you get your bearings, the food announcements commence—“shipboard buffet”, “help yourself” etc.
Is the mantra. Above on the “Entertainment Deck” –all the newly arrived guests were indeed doing that. Helping themselves. Another group of very cheery men with trays were offering up fruity punches and asking for the key . The key is key. There were big plates of spaghetti being consumed with many fruity drinks…the vacation had commenced for many of our fellow travelers. Alcohol was being consumed in huge quantities even before the boat set sail. I guess this is what “one” does…but it is a little appalling the enormity of the consumption. Feels like the last debauchery before the end of the empire. But this is puritanical me speaking. I am sure for some—this is the centerpiece of their vacation. Their idea of relaxation.

And, the presentation of food is endless. There were the carved watermelons. I have shot everyone I have seen. There were these signs made of gelatin with letters carved out the peelings of carrots and watermelon rinds that said “Welcome!” surrounded by flourishes of vegetables and food colored gelatin insets etc. There are bouquets of flowers made from peeled rutabagas, carrots and potatoes on sticks poking into hollowed halves of pineapples. There are tumbling arrangements of fruits. Piles of every shape and size of bread. And, instead of enticing me—it has me running for a single boiled egg. Although I am taking pictures of this stuff like a crazy person with the new Kodak point and shoot. This food decoration insanity combined with the swirly carpets and excess brass and glass has one reeling from the visual overload…not sea sickness but the visual whirlies.

Our rooms are snuggy and nice. Very European, german to be specific. Very much everything has a place and everything in its place. It is outfitted in the IKEA beech color with doors with raised handles and not much hardware. The closets are outfitted with drawers, shelves and hanging areas. The floor is carpeted with big (11”) stripes in a rosy, rusty orange and beige. The bathroom is tiled—and though I was warned it was small, it is very pleasant and quite pretty and to me, big enough. The beds are single European mattresses with cotton sheets and simple bedspreads with just channel quilting. Each room has a flat screen television and a nice desk in the slanted wall. There is a minibar with more opportunities for one to use their key. It is very quiet and in the night, dark—which is lovely. There is always a thermos of cold water and a container of ice left for you—which is always just what the doctor ordered. They left us wonderful quilty beach towels to use on shore with an embroidered boat and a very retro “Celebrity” on the other side.

Around four, we had our safety drill which included everyone putting their life jackets on, going to their appropriate stations and then being lined up by theboats and taking directions. That took about an hour—and then we had dinner.

The focus on food is a little alarming. There is lots of talk of it, it is delivered on—and it keeps coming. Again, not my gig—but for some, another reason to do this sort of thing. I was not psyched about “The Grand Dining Room” and all that it promised and was, surprised by the experience. You are assigned your table…so—its us (4) and our friends Steve and Judy (2). Upon entering the dining room—a line-up of more men in tuxedos or faux white cut-aways are militarily arranged around the door. One is seated in an art deco, maroon tones(?),glass and brass fantasy on two floors with a “grand” staircase cut up the center of the space with tables on the second floor. It is surrounded by windows which is lovely. If only they felt the need to decorate was not so important. One is given all sorts of choices—and the food is presented beautifully, small portions and very timely. It was delicious and transcended my “ho hum” expectations. We had fun at our table despite all the descriptions of what one was going to eat, what one was being presented to eat later that day—and the rollout of what was presented for breakfast, lunch and dinner the following day in minute detail. Minute…granular descriptions from the fruit one can have on the waffles to the hours the sushi was offered in this space to the pomp and glamour around the Formal dining experience. My head was spinning.

The “Teens” went in search of other teens which they found. They had virgin margaritas and had the disco until about 11 along with Guitar Hero, dips in the hot tubs and general mixing it up. Our teens were beyond delighted. This trip is right up there with sliced bread.

We toured the shops and the high jinx around liquor tastings (see! More alcohol!), cigarette sales, “yard o’ gold”, dyed rabbit fur jackets and , perfume and cosmetics, iwatches and more jewels and jewelry. They have an Italian coffee bar that well played, “best hits” classical music was being presented live to the crowd’s delight in the sophisticated. All of this is within a 3 story area of glass and brass that is reminiscent of middle level malls—Colored marble, silk flower arrangements, little occasional tables in brass and glass. Cutting through this open space is a “grand staircase” with brass railings, maroon and gold carpeting, mirrors for days, marble. This is one of the props for the endless pictures you can have taken of you and your beloved in formal clothing. You get the idea. Most would call it classy. I am afraid of this stuff. I am def not of this tribe. But the crowd adores it.

We saw the folks lining up at the theatre to play bingo with an enormous light-up number on the stage. There was a lot of excitement among all ages around this tremendous fun opportunity. Again, not my tribe.

The four grown ups had a glass of wine at the Martini Bar which was the spot the twenty and thirty somethings were hanging out in their party clothes. It is all white with vinyl bucket chairs covered with a fun fur type of fabric on the outside. It has a lighting system on the ceiling that looks kind of like flowers in bloom that change color and transition from red to purple to blue to green to yellow. And the white room goes with it. Simple idea but for this sort of ship, hip to the enth degree.

We were exhausted. Got a hold of the teens via walkie talkies. Said good night.

More later>>

Day Two: Flora & Fauna

Earlier start today with the need to put our things back into their proper places with a noon checkout. We drank coffee outside in the courtyard by the disneyish pool—watching the passing parade to the glamour pool. Interestingly enough, I found out later that even the Bal Harbor Sheridan was designed by Mr. Fabulous, Morris Lapidus. Kind of explains the fantasy lagoon pool with the bridges spanning the parts—with each end of the lemon yellow faux-dobi capped with huge, flaired, white, lattice worked baskets on either side of these 4 or so bridges. Also explains the nice, blocky texture the rooms with the balconies have—forming a dense wall of texture against which the parklet is placed. K and A were delighted to find out that tryouts for some sort of reality show to pinpoint the next supermodel were happening today at the Bal Harbor. Just this significant news took what was okay and supercharged it into something really special.

Miami is an entirely different vibe from Southern California. Here it is about dealing with the heat and humidity. It’s about hanging out, relaxing…spending the day at the beach or the pool. It’s about drinking water and being in water. You are surrounded by water—and when you think you are far from the ocean, its right there—Spanish is spoken here…in every dialect and type…and that Spanish, south American, Cuban heritage is fused into food, music and the club/dance scene. Lots of low cut tops amongst the ladies. Lots of white. Lots of stripes. Lots of chains and big rings. The whole pattern thing is big too. I’ve noticed that antique or vintage fabrics are hip too…made into light silk dresses or shirts. There are these cool multilayered skirts made from silk that are sold everywhere that are floaty and textured. It’s a low-key place where the whole “hostile New Yorker” thing is diffused (and believe me, they all are here too).

The Bal Harbor experience was all about staying at the hotel and making a day or week of it with the swim> tennis> beach> beach motorized toys> shopping at the high end mall across the street> the gym> spa services and another round until it’s time to leave. Lots of like people doing this—and it definitely is relaxing and out of keeping for all of us who live in the land of snow. It slows down the pace of things and bobbing in the tropical blue water and watching the parrots in the trees or the grackles bathe in the pool is plenty to keep the brain occupied.

We spent last night at another wild card from Hotwire. Score! The Mercury Hotel is 100 Collins Avenue, way down in South Beach. The Mercury is a small place with a chic little pool and hot tub with Calvin Klein Modern interiors—tan walls, cream/white accents/ floaty draperies—very cool and understated. We were upgraded to a penthouse with a hot tub and Jacuzzi as the fellow who had paid for it stormed out of the lobby of the Mercury loudly proclaiming it unsuitable for the celebration of his birthday. R. suggested they give it to us in a playful, joking way….(bold move) and they did! We sat in the hot tub on the balcony last night with the every playful K. laughing and talking and gazing at the night sky and the twinkly apartment towers being built all around us.

The Mercury is nestled in this cute South Beach neighborhood, with several restaurants in the block and a club…with chairs and plantings spilling out of doors making the whole place seem very festive. It is a block from the beach—where people and families were gathered last evening—after work, to swim, surf, boogie board and play with their dogs.
This is the land of the “lifeguard station that landed from Mars” types of lifeguard stations. Every one is different—and their colors and shapes are truly a la Mary Blair and Mr. Fabulous, Morris Lapidus. One can look down the beach to see a line-up of one crazy building after the next…a gallery of little single function buildings that are approached as follies with fun and humor infused into that sole purpose.

About noonish, we all got in the car and made for Coconut Grove. Bit of a trip…but really, everything is pretty close and the driving/navigation was quite simple. Our goal was to see the Chihuly exhibit at the Fairchild Tropical Botanic Gardens. We had lunch at a Thai/Japanese restaurant called Moon that was delicious, affordable and perfect. We then, did a drive through of the University of Miami’s campus just to get an eyeful. Then on the the Fairchild.

The Fairchild is in the tradition of the Huntington Botanical Gardens in Pasadena—but focused exclusively on tropical. They are hot on saving Palm species—even reintroducing them to places where these species have died out. They also are big into plants with pharma qualities and food. We saw the dying “Mr. Stinky”, a plant that produces an enormous flower (to me, it resembled the flower in the “Little Shop of Horrors”) that generates this enormous smell similar to carrion that the docent told us projects to the boundaries of the property when Mr. Stinky is in full belch. Apparently, Mr. Stinky is majorly attractive to beetles—that scent, that look….and the poor beetles adore it…and carry pollen etc. to continue the offspring of Mr. S. I am not a beetle. You get the idea.

We saw pineapples, which K and I were dying over how cute and beautiful they were—popping up in the center of a pinkish plant…kind of the jackpot seedpod of the plant. Similar to the cyrus plant that the Fairchild is preserving…We saw mango and papaya plants which takes the specialness away…The strange Mangrove trees with their web of shooters covered in a bark that resembles grey human skin. There were plants that were unbelievably strange and some that we know from the plants that are in corporate office buildings … all together within the happy context of where they grow and We saw iguanas, lizards, box turtle, a snapping turtle with a long nose, a cormorant (bird), some white ibis, and a cowherd egret. I was thrilled, but the general populace took all of these exotics in stride.

The Chihuly work was well suited for this environment. Very bromeliad—and the colors and placement really complemented and added some humor to this environment. The most impressive was a spectacular series of pools—one behind the other—with his floats in one and a tower of light pink squiggles at the end…as the exclamation mark that this This is where one gets married. It is rather formulaic—with sharp tall rods or pulled forms in all the colors of the rainbow –I can imagine the boxes of these forms being delivered and the Chihuly minions spending a week placing the rods, balls and plant like forms within the gardens—creating little jokes or look heres. These are not site specific, but sort of like forms that are placed as a form of decoration within the gardens. I do not know if it is art…but that is always an odd call. I do know that his presence and work at the Fairchild drives traffic. And more traffic is more money—more money to do the good things with plant preservation, cultivation and education that they espouse. Noble motives, world class institution. I would like to visit again. I feel we only scratched the surface.

Today promised the beginning of the boat segment of our trip. More later>>

Architectural Follies


Zaha Hadib's Lincoln Avenue bike/bus shelter


Lapidus or Lapidus inspired fountain amidst the Lincoln Avenue shopping area. Pretty great? eh?

Day Two: Miami Beach


Detail Eden Roc, Morris Lapidus
We spent the better part of the morning trying to figure out where we were. Then, into the total water therapy moving from the hot tub to the fantasy pool to ending up where we were most happy, the ocean. White white sand. Very salty. Sinus clearing stuff. No real shells. But lots of code and rules around chairs and towels and the like. The swimming pool area have these cabanas that have microwaves(or TVs), little tables for drinks and chairs facing out towards the pool. Families jam into these striped huts with golden finials on the top...hogging all the pool real estate contingent with their rentals. We have no idea of how this thing works...

Then, we jumped in our car for a little drive. We drove down from Bal Harbor to Miami Beach and stopped at Lincoln Avenue for shopping and lunch. We had lunch and enjoyed after--at a terrific bookstore book/cafe with a collection of books that would never have made it through the challenges the big box book stores put them through. Huge collection of graphic novels including a new one from Ms.Satrape (of Peropolis fame) and in Charles Burns book in real life versus "images from". We were delighted to have a walk through of the local Design Within Reach store to see a table that was specced for a job. Next door was the highlight--a store called Base, which is in the small chicshop mode-- lots of well designed decorative arts pieces for the home. They carried fashion show music from Milan (double CD sets), raw wooden, carved animal heads (to size) for your walls, matte porcelain birthday cakes--all white with applied decorations, huge lanterns with light fixures inside (36" tall), cute little side chairs covered in Fornesetti prints complementing black and white striped upolstry or that covered in toile. Old design classic chairs--with their worn leather coverings. Wonderful. We saw the bike shelter/bus shelter designed by Zaha Hadid (winner of many awards including the Pritsker)--basically, a student project. I mean, she had to house a bicycle?

And Morris Lapidus?! Design god. Now that we saw a bit of his work...(the Eden Roc knocking my socks off)-much reading and looking must happen. His work is so of the time..the Disneyland aesthetic, Mary Blair--all the usual suspects--that given the context of entertaining environments to relax, he is the king.

"My whole success is I've always been designing for people, first because I wanted to sell them merchandise. Then when I got into hotels, I had to rethink, what am I selling now? You're selling a good time."
Morris Lapidus

See what I mean? What's not to love?

Lots of MiMo looking. Pink, aqua etc. of bas relief. Terrific. We drove through some of downtown--phenomenal growth--cranes everywhere. Then we toured the Port of Miami to get our bearnings. Interesting. Architecture expressing the boats--big white structures against these perfect skies.

More swimming and a later dinner at La Goulou (same as Manhatten)--and a quick walk through of the Bal Harbour Mall amidst a downpour. All the NYC big brands were there...shoulder to shoulder ready to sell you something elegant and glossy. We windowshopped and ran through the ran back to our snuggy beds.

More later>>

Day One: Getting There

Trip to Newburgh was pleasant and non eventful. Saw a bald eagle soaring over the a river just before Fishs Eddy. Marvelled at all the Kill names (meaning River)--my favorite being Beaver Kill. We lunched at Wegmans in Binghamton and within 4.5 hours we were at the tiny airport JetBlue flies out of in Newburgh. We did a little rubbernecking in Newburgh just to get the lay of the land and was delighted by many scary things...the best being the enormous mountain of mulch available at a landscaper...I mean a MOUNTAIN. Bigger than a warehouse pile of the stuff. They also had this amazing little pile display of pick the color of mulch you want...every earthtone (and beyond) available for you to plant your cannas in. Whoa.

Plane a little late...but with the scale of the airport--the whole security mojo was almost pleasant as there were no lines and plenty of people doing the screening. Flight took off 15 minutes late but we had 3 solid hours of television(24!) and drawing along with the offering of snacks and coffee and water. So, time went quickly.

Fort Lauderdale's airport was still in the swing of things at 10 pm. It is a big, white, "high tech" functional building with potted full sized palm trees in the baggage claim area. Baggage claims were brisk. Car pickup was fun as we had the chance to actually pick out our car. So, we are driving a lemon yellow PT Cruiser. We found our way with mapquest and made short order of getting to our hotel.

The hotel is filled with stripes. Walls, draperies. And tons of over the top flowers, some spray painted blue as orchids dont come in these colors. There is beach access and a wandering pool fantasy-- a venetian approach with bridges and more stripes on umbrellas as the water meanders into areas of chairs...all pointing the same way for the hoards to claim them for the tanning ritual.

There are endless plants I cannot name. Bouganvilla trees with these poundcake scented clusters of pink flowers. Amazing plantings. Amazing trees. Linked diamond pools surrounded by walkways with topiaries and the bushes cut like balls. All of them amazingly maintained. Bal Harbor is not for the weak...My head is spinning.

going


Bags are packed. Car cleaned out. No more cans and crumbs rattling about. Reservations made. Tragedies averted. Decisions made. Ready. Shady knows it. More snow here. Nothing sticking but none the less..it's snowy in a light, icy sort of way. Down to Newburgh NY to take JetBlue direct to Ft. Lauderdale. Its about a four hour trip with potty breaks to Newburgh but our thinking was with an hour and a half to Rochester, a connnection at Kennedy (at least an hour or so) and the flying time...up and down...with a longer drive and no connections we would be ahead financially and time in...So. Thus, the trip. Plus, another delightful JetBlue experience. The happy land of blue textures and chips. The cute "hi and hello" language on the TV monitors. The delight of landing at a Jetblue terminal..."feeling the love". Worth every red cent. (or is it blue cent).

Rob promises when we get back, it will be spring. I believe him because 99.5% of the time he is right, which makes me right .5% if I am dead on...but I believe I am right even less of the time! There was lots of movie making yesterday here. It was fun.

The lady sketch is another "wish I was Leger" sketch. My plan is to work more with his vocabulary though stylized, it bumps up nicely against the Day of the Dead skull images and could comprise a body of work. Next steps once I have 6 or 8 of them is to scan them in and truly finish them...illustrator, I think. Lovin' the pens. Lovin' the ink. Only had a slight wobble insofar as whether to take pelikan gouache (the cheap stuff in pans that I love) with us. I think line work is enough...plus, I packed two of the more recent "The Believers" to while the time away too.

Maybe A. will let me try his PSP?

Citation for the Rongovian Academy of Fine Arts

Please review>>
The Academy Director responded to this note by announcing our annual celebration which will include Rongovian Folk Music featuring the the Tombulkentian Bouzouki quintet. Our students are busy creating poignant tableaux vivants to be throughout our spacious grounds, commemorating the dynastic families significant to the cultural growth of Rongovia. Regional food and mead will be served along with demonstrations of lace making, pin knitting, dried apple head making, tatting for infant wear, whittling and customary Rongovian-style meat dressing in the Academy's art abattoir. We welcome your attendance and attention for our festival.

Running at it

Packing and organizing. We are eastering with in laws...with lots of candy for everyone today...then on to getting the stuff, paperwork etc. ready for our departure tomorrow. Got on Hotwire again and got some phenomenal prices on 4 star hotels in Miami. More than half the price that is posted for this place. I am always thrilled with Hotwire as a resource for travel. I have always been delighted with the offers we have gotten from Hotwire--even down to 10 Marlborough in London as it was tres cheap, clean etc. Nothing extraordinary...but great price, great location and value for price. You will hear about whether we will be pleased or not with these purchases.

Wandered through the Celebrity Cruise website...trying to navigate all the information need to do preboarding paperwork, trying to decipher what to pack, what to pay for, tipping guides etc. etc. I think I got it...but still am feeling a little out of sorts. I am sure if I read some type of "Idiot"book on cruises, it would be as clear as a bell about how to figure all this out...but sickly, I enjoy the challenge. R. recommended I search Flickr for images of cruises and cruisers...to get the picture fast. Right on! The food thing is wild...hysterical...and all I can think of are the poor devils in the hold making "tell a story" food out of stuff like lunch meat and/or watermelons for a bunch of fat people in sparkly evening clothes. Tables of cream puff swans, faces made of pretzels, creatures made from washcloths. What is with the illustration/life garnishes that happens on boats? Is this elegance? Are these totems to protect you at sea? Does food in the shape of creatures...or hugely colorful make it tastier??or disguise the Crisco edge? Help me!

Stations of the cross in mayonnaise and gelatin glazed hams? The carved ice Easter Bunny? The cake sculpture of the the rock rolled away from the tomb.. with a marzipan angel speaking to Mary? A spun sugar rendition of the last supper?

I need to get to work. Strata and fruit begins to sound pretty pedestrian. What can I do with a poundcake?

AAAch!

Miami bound


We are off on another excursion on the ever wonderful JetBlue to Miami for Spring break with the team. We will be flying direct from Newburg NY (direct on JetBlue read...affordable...and off peak, darn well cheap). We figured, if we have to drive to Rochester NY or even Syracuse and get a double hit with money and time...spend the extra hour and go to Newburg and save with time and money. We will see if that pans out. Lots on the plan...but no big plans. Hope to see a little of Little Havana and the shops, to take in coffee and sun and the surf lifestyle, Miami style. Also, dig into the museum art thing in prep for possibly coming back in December for Art Basel Miami. Whoa! Then, later next week, we are going to experience what a cruise is like--traveling on Celebrity Cruiselines to go from Miami to Key West and Cozumel and back (four days all in) and your chatty friend will be porting the powerbook, buying the minutes and filling you in on the biased view of this delight and all the others. To be honest, the concept of cruise has never really been in my vocabulary or even within the realm of possibilities...somehow the idea of a floating hotel seems kind of funny...but if not, why not...and a wonderful opportunity has happened for us to dig in and see what it's like--short amount of time, limited exposure and who knows? Now...evening clothes?? I don't think danskos count...unless I can rustle up some grosgrain bows and pretend they are mens dancing slippers? What do you think? The cruise thing and fashion is, for me, a frightening thought on all sides. I fear sleep could be lost over this.

I talked to a friend of mine of similar views and expectations about her cruise experience and her idea of what worked formally is totally concievable. So, my finding a dress to make me look like some sort of fairy princess nightmare, some adult prom fantasy, some psycho wedding halllucination is not necessary. Phew. The boys are set and Kitty has parts and pieces that she can look like the little matchgirl in one moment and Queen for a Day the next. She has it all...and it works. And so, we move forward...for today. I wonder if, in addition to the spa treatments that are offered, psychological counselling for the anti-fashionistas might be available. Wait a minute. Wait a darned minute. Basic black? floor length? phobic? Got it.

Burka. (maybe with gold shoes?)

In the spirit of travel, I am boning up on my Leger and have a stack of little drawings I have begun...that I will torture you with. Instead of his gradient, I am trying the tigerteeth to see if we can get a similar look...but still keep it solid black and white. I will graduate to black, white and grey at some point...but the pure reduction approach is hard...and thus, the real work.

Snow predicted.


New tools in action. Kitty asked me if I was going to talk about my pens this morning on the way to school. I guess I am getting tedious--so much so, my daughter pinpoints exactly what is working this week for me. No, I answered her, I talked about them yesterday. URg. My plan today was to point you to this cool blog "comic tools: snooping into cartoonists' toolboxes M-W-F". MK Reed asks illustrators about their tools, inks, pencils, etc...down to the weensie details and a discussion on working technique. She links to the artists' websites, cites their training and expertise. Its great, affirming and opens up other techniques/materials. Overall, everyone adores the faber castell Pitt Pens (which I have praised as well). I love Neil Swaab's entry (he is blogged here at the RFA) and Matthew Bernier's detailed information on slow lines and fast lines, high carb--down to the watch out on how to buy a brush. Bernier's blog is illumninating too>> Here is Bernier's advice--

"Advice: Don't become like me. No, really though, good tools do help. It's true that a great artist can make good comics with the worst pen available. But- I could never get the exact kind of line I get out of a good brush with a bad brush. Bad tools slow you down, break your rhythm, harsh your mellow. I pay good money so that I can know for certain that any problems I have at the drawing table are my fault and not my tool's."

Right on.

>>another interesting looksee at different brush pens. I love my fellow bloggers as they share the wealth and opinion. >>

new tools


I love art supplies and am constantly looking for omphalos, the center of the universe, in this wonderful area. I am digging working with ink, as I have mentioned before. I guess its a throwback to ink stained hands in high school and college with my studies in calligraphy with Arnold Bank. But, now its the same idea...but new! I get to draw what I want to, versus copying forms and putting them together so as to be able to replicate what people without printing presses had time to do. Seems somehow anachronistic with our technology transcending movable type ten fold. I mean, we can output, scan, put things together "on the fly", we have electronic delivery, we have the internet. Where does calligraphy (ink on paper) belong? If you view calligraphy as the study of the "art of beautiful letters"--it is then a different story. But to my mentor, it begins and ends on a blank sheet of paper...

Calligraphy is the autographics of alphabetics. . . . Calligraphy is simply the art of writing,or of sketching and drawing transferred to the use of letter design, on the beautiful blank of a fine sheet of paper. . . . Now in doing it, it has to be clear and it has to be beautiful."
Arnold Bank (1908-1986)

But, I transgress...

Back to ink. I have extolled ink and the possible new medium, Noodlers. I am now a proud parent of a wonderful Rotring pen and a Pentel Pocket Brush. The Rotring is nice...very smooth and semi flexible. It is nice in the hand and has a nice black ink that comes with it. The Pocket Brush was picked up at the british art supply store I mentioned last week on the fly...but I figured, 1. It was refillable/check; 2. It could run up against the fab Faber Castell Black Pitt Pen...and not need a slew of them at various levels of being dried out; 3. was affordable. I plugged in the cartridge today and wwooooooooowwwwwww! Black black, smooth, kind of wiggly brush so I can get points and flats, thins and a thick about 1/2 wide. Then I did a little look see on the web to see what others say:

To summarize: The Pentel Pocket Brush pen is one of the greatest sketching tools that has been discovered. Sadly, this pen is scarce in North America, and those lucky enough to have found it are revered as holy men. Read more (this guy nails it)>>
Buy them at Wet Paint>>

phew!


Someone forgot to tell me that today was the day that the world goes crazy. I forgot today is the day before the day before Good Friday which is the day everyone remembers they need thus and so done by "the end of the week"..which, depending on their vacations, could mean today. So...nice thing is that this sort of thing forces me out of my corner. I had to figure out how to work the web thingamajig on my marvellous epson 4800 printer. And with a little "jiggery pokery" I got it to work and have output my first 17" x 75" print. And..it looks terrific.

More later>>

Harmonic


Am messing around in the moleskine...with lots of ink drawings just to see what pops up. Scanning them in this morning, I had the brilliant (no duh!) thought that I could mess with them in photoshop with the ole selection, fill, new selection, fill...shift the whole mess..merge and twiddle with the filters...So, the race is on to make more pictures, and mess with them. Not getting credit with SU on this one, but in my bones, it feels like I could go down another channel of the "make it look like a print">> and see what happens. More to come. Busy here with the paying work.

Jim Reidy, Stefan Sender and (for a well informed source)--the best fiddle player around...gave us some beautiful music at the Pourhouse last night. They all seemed to be genuinely happy to play together. We chatted with Chad Crumm, another fiddler extrodinaire about his growing up, music and how he came to our plateau. It was enlightening and inspiring...particularly in his talking about a particularly talented pair of brothers as having harmonic genetics. Kind of puts things on a new slant. They are tuned to each other and intuitively feel for the other's art/music. Chad said he thought that that was like the Bach Family etc. Is it true across the artistic board? or with science? Im not sure. Somehow it makes sense with music. Need to think about that.

More later>>

I attain the pinnacle of mechanical symbolism”



“The machine has become more than a mere adjunct of life. It is really a part of human life...perhaps the very soul...I have enlisted the machinery of the modern world, and introduced it into my studio.”
Francis Picabia
Totally forgot about Francis Picabia (January 28, 1879 - November 30, 1953). A longtime favorite of mine! I love his graphic paintings...and the little dadaist messages he weaves in. His work when it bumps up agains M. Marcel Duchamps assemblages (the chocolate grinder related work) is similar (the blue gears in Machine Turns shown above--in tone, line weight and use of the everyday to make a lovely composition disecting the machine, it's work and motion). He is recognized for mechanical portraits after his defined Dadaist period. There was a huge Picabia of a silhouette (I will give examples in next post)--about 9' tall at the Tate Modern along with an assemblage similar to that I have posted above. I just love these pieces. However, Picabia did some pretty dreadful drawn, overlappy, gouache images in the late 1920s...that do not measure up to the wonderful work done earlier...albeit in the same types of happy color palettes he seems to use.

Interestingly,around 1911 he joined the Puteaux Group, which met at the studio of Jacques Villon in the village of Puteaux. There he became friends with artist Marcel Duchamp. Some of the group's members were, Apollinaire, Albert Gleizes, Roger de La Fresnaye, Fernand Leger and Jean Metzinger. I am currently adoring M. Leger as well...so maybe there is something there...by studying both artists at the same time.