Ghost town USA ~ Bodie, California

I am in the mood to start this 3-part blog with the last part! 

Growing up with my French family across several anglo-saxon countries before moving to California, 

we were caught up in watching Spaghetti Westerns on television; we would hear about the folklore of the enigmatic Wild West, the major Gold Rushes across California, and I would imagine warm howling winds across the wide open expanses of vast American landscapes. 

It was just last month that I headed to the Eastern Sierras to the most well preserved historic Gold Rush ghost town of Bodie, just a bit east of another grand Dame of American beauty - Yosemite National Park. With the discovery of gold in the hills north of Mono Lake, Bodie, at an elevation of 8370ft, is now a State Historic Park and a National Historic Landmark. What began as a mining camp in 1859, quickly flourished to a Wild West boom town in 1870 with over 2000 buildings.

The opium bars, the 65 saloons, the thriving mines are now closed; the thousands of migrants, laborers, young families, and the prospectors have all left - the streets are now deserted - only about 100 buildings remain on the gently sloped hillside, yet the authenticity of those far gone days is ever so present, preserved in an eerie state of arrested decay and stillness.

Camera in hand, I wandered around ~ childhood dreams under my arm.

Bodie is not far. Do venture there. In one long weekend, I was back home in Marin County. Working backwards to part two for the next blog, will be a visit south to Mono Lake with its very own eerie edge - the unusual rock formations known as Tufa Towers.

It won't be long until I post again.

For now, enjoy that ghostly sensation… it's good for the soul, remember…

Adeline

Easter ~ Pyzanka from Ukraine ~ Papier-mâché from Kashmir

I always seem to have a destination in mind these days with my blog posts. With Easter here, and my constant need to rotate vignettes of ideas in my home; this time, I turn to Ukraine, a country which has been in the news of late. Just like my last blog honored the mystery of a lost flight, here I honor the art of Pysanka - the magnificent Ukrainian custom of Easter Egg decorating using pen-like styluses filled with liquid beeswax to draw intricate folk-inspired imagery in a wax-resist dye method.

Done a few years ago, the rust/red and green/yellow eggs below are my own elementary attempt - all the while trying to keep a steady hand, follow a proportioned design, and making sure not to crack the empty egg shell! I was humbled by the task in no time at all. 

A concentration like no other.

                       

Another beautiful technique is the Kashmiri art of hand-painted papier-mâché. When I traveled to Kashmir over 30 years ago, when the turmoil of today did not exist, and tourism flourished, I remember being on a student's budget with incredibly fine pieces completely out of my reach. How I would love to study and create my owns pieces, even small eggs like these below… but I shall leave it to the masters - they alone can create with an eye like no other.

Sprintime flowers, lace-like patterns on a porcelain bird, glittered glass eggs. 

My fingers are always itching for a new curiosity - a new experience.

 Look up Pyzanka online and you too will be awed by this intricate art form!

Look up Kashmiri papier-mâché and you will continue to be awed.

Look up and be inspired - it is good for the soul.

Happy Easter, Adeline

China on my mind…

Malaysian Airline Flight 370 has been on my mind quite a bit these past days. Like many people, there are a myriad of reasons why some of us are affected by this tragic mysterious loss. Unexplained losses are the hardest.

I spent all my high school years in Singapore, with the last two in boarding school as my parents moved to Malaysia. I have fond memories of a train journey from Singapore through Malaysia onto Thailand with three classmates. Over the course of several years, I took similar flight paths as MA 370. I returned to Thailand when my parents were stationed there. I travelled to Hong Kong and Macau. I went on to mainland China to Guang Zhou. I returned to Singapore twelve years after my high school graduation to re-edit and retrace the steps of The Secret Map of Singapore which my parents had designed, and I was left speechless at the grandeur of the Wall of China a couple of years ago.

Now, living in Northern California, I am often drawn to San Francisco's Chinatown. I always sense a pull from all my years and travels in the Far East. With passengers from the flight being from many corners of the globe, by far the biggest loss is the Chinese. I honor them today with this small collection of colorful photos, which wrap themselves around my fanciful taste for Chinoiserie, whose colors blend with the vignettes of Provence in my home.

A rural home ~ a poem by Mei Yaochen (1002-1060)

The cock crows three times; the sky is almost light.

Someone's lined up bowls of rice, along with flasks of tea.
Anxiously, the peasants rush to start the ploughing early,
I pull aside the willow shutter and gaze at the morning stars.

• the last emperor of China, Pu Yi •

Off to the side of the main palaces in The Forbidden City in Beijing, I discovered stunning large photographs framed in Chinese lacquer red surrounding a small intimate courtyard .

 How nice it would be to sit there today, and reflect on the lives of all the people of flight MA370.

Indeed that would be … very good for the soul.

 Adeline

San Francisco: Cafés and lists

January in northern California has been exquisite. It's been a month of unseasonably mild sunny weather - day in, day out. I keep opening the windows. I look at  the sky, not a cloud in sight. As the month will soon roll into February, I revisit New Year's resolutions that have zigzagged through my mind; I love honoring new beginnings. 

I have a thing for lists. I make them at work; I make them at home; I make them in my head; I make them all the time. I tell my girls to make lists. Lists are good.

I do not have a lot of solo time. There is a place in San Francisco where I like to return to time and again. I can quietly contemplate my lists, and edit them to my heart's content. There is something quite lovely to me about the Café de La Presse on the edge of Chinatown, in the French Quarter. I easily tune out the locals, the tourists, the demanding toddlers, the bustling waiters. With my camera never far away, I notice details in the worn grain of my table, in the fold of the window curtain shielding the traffic beyond its panels. I gather a few crumbs from the flaky croissant. I ponder. I linger. I love the earth tones. The coffee is strong.

Still in the city at twilight? Another café to contemplate those resolutions. Lingering over the distressed copper-top tables and warm lights of Café Flore in the Castro District will definitely do the trick as well. Mind you by then, it's not coffee that will be on the table; and lists will be perfectly folded and tucked away!

Later I will cross the Golden Gate Bridge, updated lists in hand, invigorated, and rejoiced!

The Café De La Presse is at the gateway of Chinatown. The Lunar New Year starts early this year - on January 31st. The Year of the Horse will be celebrated. Time to ring in the New Year all over again! Does that mean new lists? New resolutions?! Definitely a new blog post is in order… with perhaps a hop across the ocean to China!

A quiet space ~ a simple list or two ~ it is always good for the soul.