Waiting for the Rain

So this is supposed to happen later today.

Supposed to.  We've been waiting for it all day.  I was done with my Hermann Park walk by 7:15 AM.  I straightened my place, did a little paperwork, and watched an episode of Breaking Bad. (I'm rewatching the entire series because a friend is watching for the first time and this way I can remember what he's talking about.  Binge-watching is fun but my retention is awful.)

I read a couple chapters in a novel and then took off my glasses.  I thought I'd lay down and take a nap.  That lasted about 10 minutes. It's Saturday and it's not 100 degrees out.  Why was I wasting a perfectly good low-traffic day in Houston?  I got up and got myself over to the Arts District in the 6th Ward.  I'm not buying now - at least not planning on it - but I like to know who's out there with what.   I like to touch base with my artist friends.

I accomplished all of that and then some.  

If you're looking for a way to while away a couple hours, the Sawyer Yard area is great. We have a real gem there.  I cut my collecting teeth at Winter Street so it will always be my first love.  It's not slick.  The air conditioning is iffy at best.  It has character.  I gathered 3 hugs but passed on several offers of wine and cookies.  (Priorities.)

The newest addition to the complex (The Silos) is housed in an old Success Rice plant.  The lighting is wonderful and the studios are new and polished.  You can still smell the paint.  You can also catch the faintest aroma of rice.  Passing through a connector hall, I was suddenly in my mom's kitchen - on those days when we had instant rice with ground beef and ketchup.  Not a great meal but a wonderful memory.

The rain can do it's thing and I'll be happy knowing that I spent some time with myself and with a few friends (old and new).  I'm back home with a cup of coffee and my own art collection.  Not a bad way to spend the rest of the afternoon.  If you're ever in the frame of mind to meet some local artists - even better, to support some local artists, let me know.  We'll do a Second Saturday together and I'll introduce you to my friends.  

Recap of This Week's Great Things

I've been trying to think of a way to quantify the gratitudes that I've experienced this week. They slide on a scale that's difficult for me to gauge. Just when I think I have an understanding of how thankful I am, something happens to nudge me further along my path of quasi-comprehension.

Rather than try to rank them, I'll put them in a list in more-or-less chronologic order. More-or-less.

I made the decision to do my mid-week runs after work rather than risk ankle-turning morning darkness. Along with this decision came what appears to be some sort of acclimation to 90 degree plus temperatures at 5:30 PM.

My Advil usage has declined dramatically since I started drinking a cup of ginger tea each evening. (I'm steeping fresh ginger for this.) I'm not advocating that anyone ELSE use ginger. It's working for me. It's likely placebo effect. I only know that I was taking an overabundance of Advil and took only 400.mg total in the last week. HUGE change for me.

The cause of my eye problems seems to be...wait for it...age. I've been dealing with red eyes, dry eyes, and problems with blurred vision for several weeks. I threw out all my makeup, I've done all the things I would tell my patients to do, and I saw my eye doctor a couple days ago. I'm not good at making tears anymore. No, it's not a metaphor. After plunking down a hundred bucks for medicine, I'm starting to feel better. I'm very relieved it's not something more serious.

White Linen Nights in the Heights is a huge deal. It's a see and be seen scene notorious for traffic tie-ups. Last night I went to exactly one event at one gallery and I had a great time. I received hugs from my friends, had a glass of champagne, socialized for a bit and then went home. Perfect White Linen Night for me. (See the above paragraph re: age.)

I accepted that I'd have to order a Fitbit in order to comply with upcoming health insurance changes at work. This was a source of grumbling and dragging of heals for me. After receiving the device, I promised myself to use it. (What's one more fitness tracker, right?) I lost it this morning. The kind employees at HEB found it and had it waiting for me at the Customer Service desk. That's like finding a hundred bucks. (Yes, that hundred bucks!) I wrote a glowing letter to HEB. I hope those employees are recognized for helping me. I really do. I am uber appreciative.

I continue to have friendly and interesting people come into my life. Today I met two fascinating guys who write about baseball. Their enthusiasm for the game and for their craft was exciting to see and I enjoyed sharing a cup of coffee with them. I'm encouraged to see people who strive to spend their time working at their passions and living in gratitude.

Finally, I found a gift of a video. It's called "Mile...Mile and a Half". It's a documentary that follows a team along the John Muir Trail. Artists, photographers, videographers, hikers, nature lovers - consider watching this film. It's available on Netflix and it's gorgeous. I watched a little each evening before drifting off to sleep. The colors and sounds are amazing. It made me want to hike. It was that good.

©Michelle Scofield, August 3, 2014, All Rights Reserved

Two Openings: One Gallery

Alfredo Scaroina is showing "Reclaimed Matter" at Deborah Colton Gallery. I've watched Mr. Scaroina for several years. He has been a bold mixer of materials and color. Most of these works are large in scale. (At least one is composed on a door). The evolution I note with these works is more depth and a call to the viewer to spend time puzzling over the choice of media. Three years ago, the word "subtle" wouldn't have crossed my mind when viewing a Scaroina work. Last night, it did. Change happens. For my taste, this is a good thing.

Walk to the back of the gallery to see David Graeve's "Civil Disobedience to Direct Action". It thrills me to see innovation in art. Mr. Graeve forces us to tilt this way and that to see what he has sculpted into his work. Although the pieces are thematic, they don't seem contrived. Walking through the rooms filled with his sculpture, I felt in the presence of an encompassing knowledge of the science of moving objects from one form into another to create art. It's a fascinating exhibit.

Both of these exhibits are worthy of more than just a quick pass-through. Give yourself time to study them and appreciate the thoughtful work of these very talented artists.



Deborah Colton Gallery
2445 North Boulevard
Houston, TX 77098
July 12, 2014 - August 23, 2014




©Michelle Scofield, July 13, 2014, All Rights Reserved

Charles Marville: Photographer of Paris

A friend asked me if I live at the Museum of Fine Arts Houston. No, but sometime I wish it were so.

I attended this exhibit, Charles Marville: Photographer of Paris, with a Meetup Group. This gathering of people who appreciate art in all forms came together on Thursday evening to view a collection of photos by Marville, who worked as the official photographer for the city of Paris in the mid 1800's.

The photographs capture cityscape as still life and inspired in me feelings of sadness for inevitable sweep of change to come. Pay attention to the small details, for certainly Marville did. He caught the industrial bits and pieces that were new but also transient.

The technical descriptions of the photography were inspiring for this neophyte, as well.

Charles Marville: Photographer of Paris
Through 9/14/2014
Beck Building, Lower Level
Museum of Fine Arts Houston
Admission to this exhibit included with your general admission ticket

Sunday Afternoon At Redbud Gallery

Moe Profane Nihilism and Nanner Puddin
June 7-June 29, 2014
Redbud Gallery
303 E. 11th Street Houston, TX 77008

Gallery Hours Wed-Sun 12-5pm

I wish I'd found this exhibit sooner. Thanks to KM for pointing me in the right direction. As it is, I'm letting you know about it just a week before it closes, but you may still have time to swing by.

This is a small, well-curated display of pop-meets-vintage-meets-humor that doesn't feel overworked. I have a particular hangup about these genres. They often come across as kitsch to me. These pieces don't. Neither did they feel haphazard.

After viewing the Moe Profane exhibit, we took in the collection in the room directly behind the front gallery. There was quite a collection of painting, lithographs, and sculptures to browse.  Several strong pieces: a Miro lithograph, a Jasper Johns, some African tribal work.  I found it masculine, expensive, and interesting.



We also stepped right next door to:

G Gallery
301 E. 11th Street Houston, TX 77008

There is an eclectic collection at G Gallery to be sure. Spend some time. Parking is a breeze. The great thing about the Heights is that time seems to pass so pleasantly and there is always a coffee shop around the corner. I'm looking forward to events at both of these galleries, now that I've found them.


©Michelle Scofield, June 23, 2014, All Rights Reserved

Upstairs

Last night, the Museum of Fine Arts Houston opened a (to me) fascinating exhibition of the collection called "Houghton Hall: Portrait of an English Country House". This is the first stop for the collection before it heads off to San Francisco and Nashville.

Somewhere in the pre-opening hype, I made note of a couple references to Downton Abbey. Of course, I was in! Would I see splendid furnishings similar to the television show I devoured recently? What of the tea sets?

I should have done a little more research.

It wasn't Downton. Well, I take that back. It was the foundation on which Downton could have been set if I wasn't in such a hurry to put an electric toaster in the kitchen. (Faithful viewers will get that.) The Houghton Hall exhibit displays an amazing example of what wealth must have been like and might still be. For some.

Now, back to the collection:

Houghton Hall is the family estate of the Marquesses of Cholomondeley. It was built in the early 18th century by Sir Robert Walpole. The traveling exhibit does a fair job of placing you into and guiding you through rooms of the estate. (After seeing massive marble arches in England, I was slightly underwhelmed by the use of the wall panels to represent the marble and the library.)

Speaking of books, I swooned at a John Locke. There are tiny treasures to explore. Take your time. The preview was PACKED and I felt a little claustrophobic. Within the glass cases are stunning examples of porcelain but not so many that you'll be bored by them. Particularly interesting to me were the handwritten inventories of household items.

Not to be missed: The massive "The Knights and The Briar Rose" by Edward Burne-Jones. I felt a tug by the Burne-Jones. It was immediately familiar. What was it? My friend and I went back for a second view. It struck me that it has much in common with "Joan of Arc" by Jules Bastien-Lepage. I've learned that Burne-Jones and Bastien-Lepage attended the Royal Academies of Art in England and France, respectively, at almost the same time. I attempted to dive deeper into these two artists but did you know that when you start down a road with signs marked, "Avant-garde", you always end up at a Warhol soup can?

I suggest that you view the exhibit from front to back, saving the portrait gallery for last. The John Singer Sargents merit time to appreciate their fall-into-me beauty.

Houghton Hall: Portrait of an English Country House runs from June 22-September 21, 2014 at the Museum of Fine Arts, 1001 Bissonet, Houston, TX, 77005. Tickets are $15.00 Your ticket also provides entry to the museum's collections.



©Michelle Scofield, June 21, 2014, All Rights Reserved

D is for Docent

I moved from room to room, soaking up the bits of information he offered like the lemony, buttery sauce on a plate of perfectly roasted chicken.  If I took my time and savored the experience, I could break off a crust of bread and enjoy the small morsels - slowly, with determination.  I could delay looking at all the beautiful paintings hanging around me and focus on the few being discussed on the tour.

I was surprised to find that our tour was being led by a man.  I admit to having a preconceived notion of a Docent as an elderly woman wearing a navy blue blazer, mid-calf skirt, and Naturalizer shoes. He wore none of these.  He knew his Impressionists and he helped me to know them. 

For a little over an hour, he led our group of fifteen through the permanent collection at the Museum of Fine Arts Houston, giving us a mini-lesson on the beginnings of the movement and how to LOOK at one of the paintings to recognize the brush strokes, the placement of the subjects within the paintings, and the perspective of the artist. 

I was very happy that he focused on one of my favorites - Camille Pissarro.  My knowledge grew. That always makes a good day for me.

I also gained emotional insight into why the Impressionism period is my favorite.  As we moved past a Classical piece, I felt uncomfortable.  Too many rules.  

Docents don't have to be women. Painters don't have to be realists. I don't have to eat the main course.  I stayed only for the tour and saved that big bird on the platter for later.







©Michelle Scofield, January 4, 2014,  All Rights Reserved

Let's Run With this 1 Fine Day Thing

B is for bunch.  I'm determined to participate in social activities, to be part of a group.  Thankfully, I was called late yesterday afternoon and asked if I could be at the Houston Zoo last night to see the Zoo Lights.  Yes!  I had a great time walking through the pretty displays, listening to Christmas music (on January 1st), laughing, joking, in general being cracked up by 5 of the funniest guys I know.

Today is Thursday.  You know, the day before Friday, which is followed by Saturday.  Now that I'm not completely preoccupied by running (obsess much?), I don't have 3 and 4 hour blocks of time carved out for long runs on the weekends.  What to do?  Get out and participate in humanity!  I'm signed up for a members' talk at the Museum of Fine Arts Saturday morning.  Subject:  The Impressionists.  Love that!  And maybe I'll make some friends. 

I also received a birthday party invitation for Saturday night.  It's not a surprise party but I was surprised to get the invite.  Of COURSE I'm going.  :)

My goal for this year is to look for 1 fine thing in every day.  And to mix in the alphabet.  And to try to write regularly.  Wish me luck.

So far so good.
















©Michelle Scofield, January 2, 2014, All Rights Reserved

Astral Apparition

Hal Higdon's Novice 1 Marathon Training Schedule: Week 4, Day 3
Days to Chevron Houston Marathon: 101
Planned activity: Rest





Fear of Fall(ing)

Orion thought nothing of it.
It was his mission.
He marched across months of late summer mornings and finally pointed toward the waning moon and declared,
“Let go!”


©Michelle Scofield, October 3, 2012 All Rights Reserved

Adjustments

Hal Higdon's Novice 1 Marathon Training Schedule: Week 4, Day 2


Days to Chevron Houston Marathon: 102
Planned activity: 3 mile run
5:15 am 62 degrees
3:03 miles 32:34 Avg 10:45 min/mile

I'm juggling this week's schedule.  It was supposed to look like this:

Monday: Rest
Tuesday: 3 miles
Wednesday 4 miles
Thursday 3 miles
Friday: Rest
Saturday: 9 miles
Sunday: Cross Train

I'm considering doing 4 tomorrow and then 3 sometime later in the week.  Maybe. Possibly. Physical Therapy last night was Hard.  Notice the capital "H"?  I would have used Torture but that seems too Dramatic.

I was wiped out from getting up so early in the morning and I'm experiencing fatigue in my right calf.  I know it's because we're loading that group of muscles and asking them to do more.  I know it's normal.  I also know I'm a little grouchy as a result.  It's worth the work.  It's worth the discomfort.  I know this in my head but my body is a feeler not a knower.

I'll keep adjusting.  I've certainly adjusted my diet and social schedule.  My sleep schedule is almost laughable.  It's easily comparable with any toddler or geriatric person you can think of.

In the midst or work and running and a wedding and PT, I have a little creative writing to do.  It's pushing at me from that area right behind my eyes.  It's been trying to get out for about 3 days now.  I've been pushing back, not wanting to deal with it.  I guess I'll have to.  I ran without music or noise in my ears today and the writing almost screamed at me.  I don't know when I'll find the time but it's just one more adjustment to make in this packed week of activity.  I can do it.  I always do.



























©Michelle Scofield, October 2, 2012 All Rights Reserved

Surface Tension

I work in a busy clinic. I live in the busiest part of my town. I've been known to go to sleep with pillows over my head. To escape, I walk. I walk miles and miles and then I walk more.

I rarely have music with me. No headphones. Oh, I have music playing in my head. I wish it was the last sweet song I heard on a long car ride home. More likely it's from some ridiculous commercial. I'd like to smack that Jack In The Box guy in the head. Just once. Jumbaca? Really? Of all the stupid jingles I've heard in my life, this one has convinced me more than any never to purchase anything from that company. Anyway...

I try to walk in relative silence: listening for my footsteps, for calling birds, for rustling leaves, for anything that signals life to me. It seems that when I attempt to listen past the cars and airplanes, past city noise and on to nature, I reach a point where I am no longer attempting. I move past reaching for soothing sound and I am open to receiving other calming sensation. Often it comes in the form of visual beauty. This feels like a form of disappearing and it feels marvelous.

I've found that I can disappear behind the lens of my camera easier than anywhere else. There (focused on something beautiful), I lose track of time. I don't hear inane commercials. I don't worry about what's for dinner later - when I'm most likely alone. My mind shuts down and I move in on one single object for as long as it takes.

I love to photograph water dropping off of almost any surface. I can't tell when the shot will "happen". It may never. Sometimes I stand up straight, look around and long to ask someone, "Do you see that?" Isn't it beautiful? The tension is almost as beautiful as the subject. Maybe you have to be there.









©Michelle Scofield, January 10, 2012 All Rights Reserved

A Letter to Granny (About a Mummy)

Dear Granny,

Today I fulfilled a promise I made to you sometime in the mid 1980’s. I’m a little late. I’ve been busy. The kids are wonderful, grown and on their own. Of course they're brilliant – you always knew they would be. I finished that pesky degree, I became the single woman I should have been all along. Oh, wait. I got divorced, remarried, and divorced again. NOW I’ve been single for almost nine years and I can’t believe it’s been that long. I established myself in a career that’s solid and stimulating, if at times exhausting. In short – I emulated you.

Back to the promise. Do you remember those days when I lived in Plano and you lived in Fort Worth and we’d spend lazy afternoons at your house going through your scrapbooks? Inevitably, we’d come across your tickets to museums: The Louvre, The Smithsonian. You’d tell me about what you saw there and encourage me to, “Go, Michelle. Go!”

You were especially excited after seeing the Treasures of Tutankhamen Exhibit. If I remember correctly, you boarded a tour bus and went all the way to New York City to see it. You were always traveling. Being alone didn’t stop you because you simply craved the adventure and the experience. I remember sitting on your bedroom floor, both of us cross-legged, as you paged through the glossy program and told me what you’d seen. You kept telling me about all the gold and how amazed you were by the sheer quantity of riches buried with the young King.

We spent so many days like that, Granny. As I look back it seems that you took me to all those places and I never felt rushed or pressured while we toured your memories. I cherish those days.

Today I bought a ticket to the King Tut exhibit at the Museum of Fine Arts Houston. I lined up for the 1 pm showing and stood patiently with about 40 other people. We watched a short introductory film, narrated by Harrison Ford. (I was happy the film was absent “Indiana Jones” music.) The doors to the exhibit swung open and we proceeded into about an hour’s worth of a lot of people standing in front of each other, many listening to audio guides, quite a few seeming to be frustrated with each other for blocking views. (Once inside the exhibit, it became clear that the introductory film was an attempt to space out the visitors into move-along-and-don’t-be-so-crowded order. It didn’t work all that great.)

The exhibit had the requisite educational placards giving brief explanations of the geographic, cultural and social aspects of the life of the Pharaohs, especially pertaining to funereal customs. I used the times when I couldn’t approach the displays of artifacts to read up on Hatsheput, Tutankhamen, and the artifacts that were found in the tomb of King Tut.

I was quite sad when I was looking at the display that showed the photographs of the mummy with finger protectors and sandals and some of the other jewelry that was on the body itself. I thought it didn’t belong in a museum. I’m not into curses nor do I have a strong belief in afterlife but I just felt that this person had been so disrupted. Yes, the treasures were all beautiful, and so very GOLD but I was sad as I walked through that part of the exhibit.

The final room had a film about a bone marrow test on King Tut’s femur and there was a replica of the mummy – of the dead Boy King. Granny, I’ve seen a lot of dead people in this job of mine and I’ve done enough bone marrow biopsies that if I never see another one, I’ll be just fine. I skipped that part. I figured I could read up on the DNA research to try to determine the royal line at a later date.

I also skipped the King Tut gift shop.

As I approached the museum exit, I reminded myself that I rarely get into Houston these days and I better see what else is going on at the MFAH. I ducked into “Gifts of the Sultan: The Arts of Giving at the Islamic Courts”. One word: Gorgeous.

There were sumptuous carpets like I’ve never seen before. The tapestry work was simply amazing. I also saw diamonds and emeralds worked into stunning pendants. There were fascinating books with the most intricate drawings and pictures. I’m so happy I stopped.

After a fairly morose encounter with a King, the Sultans lifted my spirits with color and vibrancy. I lingered and laughed. I appreciated.

So, Granny, that’s my day with King Tut. I’ve finally followed through as you asked. Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about Paris. In time. In time.

Love,


Michelle




©Michelle Scofield, January 7, 2012 All Rights Reserved