Washing Fruit and Veggies on the Road

Posted on August 15, 2014 by Tasha

So, you’re driving along on a late-summer road trip, the farmers’ markets and road-side fruit stands are overflowing with beautiful produce, but you hesitate to buy a bunch of berries or tomatoes if you can’t figure out a way to wash them, right? Here’s our solution. All you need is a container (a tub that yogurt came in is perfect) and some water. A cooler is optional. I’m not really sure why it took us so long to figure this out. It works a lot better, and uses a lot less of our drinking water, than trying to pour water with one hand while somehow holding and scrubbing fruit with the other hand by the side of the road. Even if you are on your way to a house or hotel where you could wash fruit, this has the advantage of letting you eat it right NOW, while you cruise along with the windows rolled down, or at your favorite picnic spot.

Put your produce in your little tub, and pour in enough water to cover it. Swirl everything around with your fingers for a minute or so, and then hold the fruit back and pour the water off. If a lot of dirt comes off in the first round, or you just want to make sure it’s really clean, repeat.

Then you can put the clean tub of fruit in your cooler, or on top of the parking brake between the seats for easy access. If you’ve washed something like tomatoes that does better dry and room-temp than cold and wet, you can dump them out onto a towel, or use one of those little green plastic baskets to store them. If you knew how many picnic style meals we’ve eaten, consisting mainly or entirely of various versions of caprese sandwiches, you’d laugh out loud.

A couple more notes: basil does well in the cooler with the stems in the water, or in a sealed plastic bag with a little moisture inside (kind of like the cooler version of this method), but not if the leaves touch the ice (they’ll frost and turn black). Thanks to Bryan for hand modeling, and for being as enthusiastic about fresh local edibles as I am.

Exploring & Eating: Texas Edition

Posted on June 4, 2014 by Tasha

I’ve updated the Roam + Eat page to include all the new places from our latest trip to Texas, plus some I previously forgot, meaning it now includes every single good place to eat I know in the Lone Star State. Only 49 to go … just kidding. But I will try for a couple more updates as the summer goes on, to fill things out a bit!

Hidden Gems from the Road

Posted on September 26, 2013 by Tasha

And not so hidden. Jazz Fest is of course, amazing, and so is the food there!

I’ve been working on a new page, for you and for me. It’s full of all the places (mainly restaurants) that I want to remember from our travels. How do you persuade me to leave my comfortable and productive studio, and head out on the road for a summer tour of art shows? Well, just remind me that when we get to Austin, we can eat at Enoteca Vespaio, they have the first and best macarons I have ever tasted. Then once we get to St Louis there’s Shu Feng, oh the crispy eggplant . . . you get the idea. And it pretty much works that way, every spring. Ever since we read Walking and Eating in Tuscany and Umbria, we have an ongoing joke about being on the walking and eating tour of wherever we happen to be, with the goal of walking enough so that we can eat some more! The list of restaurants and fun places to visit is getting too long to keep just in my head, or on random scraps of paper and lists on my phone, so I made a page for it here.

For every place I’ve remembered, looked up, and put on the list, I thought of at least one more that I haven’t had time to post yet. So, look for another update, hopefully soon, and I even have some pictures to put in! But I wanted to go ahead and publish the start of the list. My goal is to keep updating it as time goes on, and we stumble on more hidden gems of the road. If you have some of your own to share, let me know!

Free Yourself to Make Something Ordinary

Posted on August 29, 2013 by Tasha

Now that I’ve told you a little more about why we travel most of the summer, I can also share some things I’ve made for our trips.

Our clothes spend a fair amount of time in a “closet” consisting of a thin strip of wood between the shelves we have built into our truck. It’s much better than keeping them in a suitcase, but still not ideal since they are unprotected. At the end of last summer, when we unpacked the clothes from truck to house, I noticed that one my jackets was significantly more faded on one side than the other. Maybe hanging it with the same side to the skylight for the whole summer was not the best idea? The same thing happened to Bryan’s jacket, so I’m pretty sure that extra UV light on one side was the problem—combined with the fact that it was warm last summer and the jackets didn’t come off the rack very often. I had been thinking vaguely for a couple of years about making some kind of garment bags to protect our clothes from getting dirty/scratched up as we move things in and out of the truck, especially as I have started to take more me-made garments on the road. This was the final straw, I had to do it.

I decided to make two, each half the width of our “closet.” One would be slightly longer than my summer dresses, and the other just long enough to protect shirts and pants. I traced a plastic hanger for the shape of the sides, and left a split in the front to close with a zipper.

This was the perfect scrap/thrift store shopping project. Since it didn’t matter exactly what the garment bags looked like, as long as they worked, I could use practically anything. I used the last of some heavy canvas from old curtains that came with our house, plus another small curtain (made out of some great textured blue-green fabric) that I bought at Goodwill.

This may seem like a strange project to wax poetic about, but here’s the thing: as I cut myself loose from trying for aesthetic perfection, not caring what anyone would think of my topstitching or pieced fabric, sewing felt more like sculpting; using what I had on hand, and my hands, and just making something almost like I was pulling it out of the air. I was free to use my creativity in any way I wanted, to use whatever I could find, odds and ends of colored thread, salvaged zippers (really nice ones actually)—and I started to see an unexpected beauty in my intentionally imperfect stitching, one that I hope comes through in these photos. I was free to do whatever I wished, and yet cared enough to add little touches and experiments. I was trying things, enjoying the process, and making something useful as I went. With enough practice behind me to be comfortable with fabric and thread, I was able to just play, and it felt pretty magical.

Around the same time, as we both worked on various projects for the truck and Bryan’s display before the summer season, he was refinishing the director’s chair that he uses in the booth. He did a really nice job, dissembling and sanding the chair before applying the new finish. After all that, I decided it needed a new bag to protect it from getting scuffed all over again as it’s loaded in and out.

Chair in the process of disassembly—we’re looking through where the seat would be.

I went back to the thrift store looking for something to line my chair cover with. I loved searching through the housewares section, looking at everything as a material instead of a finished product (always my favorite kind of shopping), and letting the serendipity of what I found help shape my project. I decided on two vintage towels for padding the front and back, and a second-hand piece of fabric to round out the outside. I think the green stripes with my other leftover fabrics make it look like something for sailing.

When I announced that I was going to spend our penultimate evening in Flagstaff sewing (this chair cover), I got an enthusiastic “Ok!” from my notoriously goal-oriented husband. Remind me to try this trick again next year . . .

It’s weird, but having all these me-made covers on our travels this season has been quite a boost to my morale. Every time I see them, or touch them, I’m reminded that I have a spring of creativity and ingenuity which I can use to make whatever I want, and whatever I need. That’s pretty much all I need to feel good about life in general.

How about you—have you done any creative and/or freeing projects lately?

Life as Artists on the Road

Posted on August 22, 2013 by Tasha

I’ve been working on this post for a while (um, understatement). I keep feeling like I should, or would at least like to, explain a little more about what we do and why it is that I travel so much, but it turns out to be not so easy to explain. Everything from how I met my husband and fell in love, to the story of my own life and work so far, to the state of the art market (we’re not getting into that one here) is wrapped up in it, and just figuring out what to put in and what to leave out has been more difficult than I thought, but here we go.

View from the truck windshield—a beautiful sunset from I-40.

The beginning of the story, for the purposes of this post anyway, is 2000, when Bryan (long before he was my husband or had this work) left his career as a business consultant. He didn’t like what he saw himself becoming—that guy in a suit who cuts off little old ladies on his way to the airport. He looked at the senior managers at his company and saw that while they were paid generously, they didn’t seem happy. They were still overworked and stressed out. Most of them had been divorced. They spent their careers working to help huge companies with questionable ethical and environmental records. He wanted more time off, and to have some choice of his clients, neither of which the company wanted to give him. He followed his heart and resigned.

Bryan wasn’t sure what he would end up doing next. He was a passionate photographer, capturing America’s wilderness using large format film (he still does). To make the next part of the story short, over the following few years he carved out a niche that would allow him to make a living. By the time I met him, in 2003, he was traveling most of each summer, exhibiting his work and photographing for new projects, and spending his winters in Flagstaff, Arizona, where I grew up.

Meanwhile, I wasn’t quite sure what to do with myself. I had left school at the University of Arizona (in Tucson), feeling unfulfilled, uninspired, and lonely, and moved back home to Flagstaff in December of that year. I worked at a small museum in town (cataloguing lots of beautiful artifacts) and at a couple of other places off and on, but nothing that was going to turn into a career. Bryan and I met at the end of that summer, started dating and (um, more long story getting short here) fell in love from fall through winter. By the time he asked me if I wanted to travel with him the following summer, I was ready to say yes. It was a big leap of faith, actually bigger looking back on it than it seemed at the time, but I knew he was the one for me, and it worked out. We survived some big adventures together that first time on the road (some that I question whether I would stick around if they happened today), but we made a good team. By the time we got back home in the fall, Bryan had decided that I was the one too. We got married in October 2005, and we still travel together every year.

The truck—hauling, transport, mobile studio and camper.

Our time on the road is a mixture of selling work, making new work, and of course the adventures that happen in between. Most of the selling takes place at the country’s top juried art fairs, and at galleries. The fairs are competitive events run by neighborhoods and art associations. Each season it’s a logistical challenge for Bryan to come up with a national tour from the shows and gallery openings he is invited to that will sustain our work.

Most of these art fairs take place outdoors. As well as art and workspace and some regular living stuff, our truck holds a tent and carpeted walls to make a kind of mini-gallery for the photos, which we set up and take down every weekend that we “bring art to the people.” Dealing with the weather is also a major part of this experience. I started a list of things never to take for granted, but everything else pales in comparison to the first two items: hot showers and ice.

Wherever we end up, there are usually interesting things to photograph nearby. It might be a national park, or interesting architecture for the In a Big World Wandering series, or something for an entirely new project.

Don’t worry, he made it to the other side without falling in.

In between selling and shooting photos, we usually either camp out or visit friends and family. I love camping, staying in beautiful places, and trying out local foods at farm stands and restaurants. But few things make me more suddenly grateful than arriving at a real house full of friendly faces, running water, a large bed with clean sheets, laundry, and a kitchen, etc. My fingers start to itch at the thought of real kitchen tools, and we usually end up cooking a lot for whomever we’re staying with, as part of our efforts to at least act like, if not actually be, the world’s best houseguests. It’s a good survival strategy; we need to make sure we can always come back.

As you might imagine, doing work of my own during this traveling time is . . . difficult. But I’ve also found that it’s fairly necessary to my happiness. I’ve tried selling my own work at art fairs, mainly felted handbags (you can see a few of them on Etsy), but that market wasn’t quite right for the things I made. Along with the usual issues of customers not understanding the cost of handmade goods, plus the physical work to set up an extra display every weekend, it all convinced me that this wasn’t the way to go (at least not with the bags). I did learn a lot though, about all aspects of running an itty-bitty handmade business, and about myself. I began to figure out that my passion is really more for empowering other people to become makers than for selling things I make, hence my latest project (and this blog). Although come fall, I will be making a about a ton of those little fuzzy hats again . . .

Left to right: my booth, and Bryan’s.

But back to the road. Being gone for long stretches, usually months at a time, of course makes me homesick. I miss my friends, my family, the smell of the pine forest, my studio (especially my studio—the freedom to make pretty much whatever I want, whenever I want to), my kitchen, green chile, good tacos (depending on where in the world we are) . . . but I’m starting to adapt. At this point, if we stopped traveling, I know I would miss that too. I’d miss the friends and family scattered around the country that we get to spend time with, the foods we get to eat (yeah, I’m a little obsessed with the food) and the things we discover, especially when we can get off the interstate and explore. It’s an amazingly diverse and interesting country out there.

At the end of a mediocre show, we’ll often look at each other and say, “Well, we lived.” It occurred to me recently that what we mean is not just “we survived” but also “we’re living” in the fullest way, taking advantage of the paths and adventures that are available to us, even though not all of them are good, and testing our limits. It’s not always fun, pretty much never glamorous, and as a friend who’s taking a sabbatical from art fairs recently put it “a stupid way to make a living.” And yet, one thing we don’t have to worry about is regret about chances not taken and roads untraveled. The odd and beautiful parts of life on the road, the magical things that happen when you’re in a strange place at a strange time, are what will keep me coming back, probably for as long as this weird way of life is possible for us.

A performance called (I am not making this up) Squonk Opera passing by the booth in Pittsburgh.

Now I feel like maybe I should have written this post right at the beginning, as a brief summary of the state of my recent life . . . but here it is. This won’t become a blog all about life on the road (that’s not my thing), but I would like to bring up a few other ways that my own goals and work intersect our travels, and hopefully after this it will make more sense. What about you, any thoughts about travel/work/life?

Spring in the Great Smokies—Gratuitous Pictures

Posted on June 11, 2013 by Tasha

Just pictures today. This always feels a little self-indulgent to me, but as I mentioned last post, after working hard on Hello Sewing Machine, and hitting the road with Bryan’s work, I am ready for a break! Lucky for me, one of my all-time favorite breaks in my routine is just around the corner. Our yearly week-long creative retreat/gathering of friends and family starts tomorrow, and I am so looking forward to it. I’ll share some pictures and projects from that as well, once I have them!

Another kind of break I cherish is spending time in the wilderness. These pictures are from this April. Spring at home is a quiet season, easy to overlook until you turn around and it’s summer already. Not so in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. It’s like reverse fall, flowers and tress busting out all over with blooms in different colors, sizes and scents. The week we were there it was already crowded with flower identifiers and photographers, and everyone seemed to be in a great mood, buoyed up by the coming of spring. I hope you can take time for a little break today too.

In Which I Read My Diary From Last Year, and Re-Up for Me-Made-May!

Posted on April 22, 2013 by Tasha

If you were reading this blog this time last year, you no doubt remember that I signed up for Me-Made-May ’12, hosted by the fabulous Zoe. I just think this is the best idea, it encourages all those of us who make clothing to actually wear it in our everyday lives, and thus think about what we make and use and why.

I had a great time doing it in 2012, and learned a lot. My pledge was to wear one item of me-made clothing every day, which I succeeded in doing. Sometimes you would not have been able to tell, since I made underwear count. I also pledged to blog about something MMM related once a week, which I almost succeeded in doing. I did draw and post a cartoon of my summer wardrobe, an extension of the way keeping track of what I wore for the month helped me clarify what I wear and what I would like to wear. My overall favorite thing I did was to get three other lovely bloggers/sewists to share their thoughts on style and how sewing allows them to express themselves, in this post.

I knew that I wouldn’t take a picture of every outfit I wore, so I decided to also keep short notes for each day. I dug them out recently and I was surprised at how much is in there, about my thoughts and how far I’ve built up my me-made wardrobe in a year, so I thought I would share some of them. If you are bored by reading other peoples (very brief, not edited for grammar) diary entries, please skip to the bottom of the post. I’m going to include a couple of explanatory notes – May was as usual for us, a busy travel month, and even with the notes it’s going to feel pretty disjointed.

Day 1 – wore green Deva yoga pants, blue Henley. I felt more proud and self-sufficient than I thought I would!

Day 2 – I wore Henley & pjs to clean, then grey pants & ‘Bethan t. I thought about the various imperfections of those pants and vowed to make better ones. (On this day we flew from home to pick up our truck and continue our summer art show circuit. I promise to write a post about what exactly that means and what it’s like, soon.)

Day 3 – Wore cropped drawstring pants and strapless top. Found myself wishing I could wear all me-made outfits! Wanting more time to sew since this month is good inspiration. (When we are on the road I am separated from my sewing machine by hundreds or thousands of miles.)

Day 4 – wore all me-mades! Shorts & blue tank to set up, then new sundress + undies.

This is my standard booth-setup outfit, shorts that were a test make, and a tank that’s near the end of its life.

Day 5 – washed undies the night before to wear, wore those under too hot for anything else dress. Thought about need to make another airy dress, fabric is key.

Day 7 – laundry day. Repeat of plane ride outfit and thoughts about pants. (We are camping out between shows, as we drive to the next one.)

Day 10 – wore B’s jeans & mm pink top in anticipation of City Museum. Maybe I should make some jeans? Would it be more work to find or make? Is either worth it – probably I will stick with the no jeans plan. (We stopped off at City Museum, in St. Louis, which is like an amazing cross between mixed-media sculpture and playground. It’s awesome. Wear sturdy pants. I once lost a fair amount of corduroy on the multistory slide.)

Day 12 – blue skirt/jeans for hiking with mm black tank. Dressing this way may mean laundry sooner. It’s cool and I’m wishing I brought mm hiking pants/another sweater. Thinking about how what we wear is a compromise between what we’d like, what’s available and the weather.

Day 13 – still camping, wearing mm tanks with alternating skirts & B’s jeans. Kicking myself for not bringing mm hiking pants.

Day 14 – now wearing B’s socks as well with more of the above and freezing! Raining out and did laundry.

Day 15 – with fresh laundry! Wore grey mm pants, tank & sweatshirt. Thought about the ideal summer wardrobe – two pairs of pants, one for setup/camping, one nice enough for town/at show if cold. Thought that I have as much affection for the non-mm clothes that fit well, color I love, etc.

Day 18 – all mm! Shorts and blue tank for setup, wedding test dress for show. Thought of a plan to shorten/line dress. (This show is in Reston, VA. I love the DC area – the picture above is at the Air and Space Museum Udvar-Hazy Center, and the one below at the MLK Memorial.)

Day 21 – lounging/computer work/groceries and cooking at friends – good day for mm cropped pants & berry T.

Day 23 – same outfit as day 16, boring! Me made pjs for laundry.

Day 24 – sorely tempted to cheat, but we are almost done & I can stick to my pledge. Mm black tank & pink stripe skirt. Stuck in Floyd Bennett Field.

Day 25 – in NYC. Mm linen skirt (loving it!) & dk blue top stitched tank with blue cord jacket.

Day 26 – poor packing leads to undies only today – with ‘bethan top and blue tea dyed skirt with flowers. Also no bra – but fabric shopping in NYC!!!! (This really happened. Maybe I’ll tell you about it some time, we had quite an adventure.)

Day 28 – Mm drawstring pants & pink shirt w/ mm bra. Good for driving/hanging out with nieces. Wishing I could wear all mm pieces for the rest of May but don’t think I have enough.

Catching tiny frogs with our little nieces at a pond in MI

Day 30 – grey pants even got a compliment from Mandy! With pink mm shirt and sweatshirt.

Day 31 – same as day 30 – camping out – cool again. Even though at times frustrating, I’m a little sorry to see the end of mmm.

So, um, there you have it! Reading these over, I think I should make another shirt like the pink one, it was probably the most-worn item. I’m certainly glad to report that my me-made wardrobe has grown by a few of the pieces I most needed last May – now that I have good me-made pants I shouldn’t end up wearing Bryan’s jeans this summer! I also thought more about what I would pack this year (we’ll be on the road again for most of May), there are plenty of me-mades in various layers ready to go. And I made a new airy dress, which I hope to show you some time during Me-Made-May – knowing that I wanted to up my pledge this time was an incentive to get it done in time.

My pledge for this year is: ‘I, Tasha of Stale Bread into French Toast, sign up as a participant of Me-Made-May ’13. I endeavour to wear two handmade garments, of which underthings may count for only one, each day for the duration of May 2013’

I’ll definitely take some pictures, although probably not every day, and put them up at the MMM Flickr group. It was really fun last year checking out what everyone else was wearing there. I’ll make notes again too. I’m looking forward to seeing what new ideas I come up with during this year’s challenge. There’s still time to sign up, until the 30th, and all are welcome, so go check it out, I highly recommend it!

In the Desert, We Wait for Spring, and Eat Roasted Butternut Squash with Sweet Spices

Posted on March 24, 2013 by Tasha

Bryan and I drove out to Grand Falls the other day, down a long dirt road, to see the spring runoff flooding down the Little Colorado river and over the cliffs (as high as Niagara, or so they say around here). I kept thinking about how our Ponderosa pine forest seems so complete when I’m in it (which is most of the time), but really, just on the other side of town is a transition zone between our high-elevation forest and the lower-elevation piñon pine and juniper, and the scrub-covered desert.

It’s getting warmer all over our varied section of the landscape, including the valley further south where most our local produce comes from. We are not, however, California, and we are still waiting for asparagus and strawberries.

In fact, as we drove, it seemed like the desert was waiting too, the little bushes looking soft and sun-bleached, flocking the hills. Maybe the roar of muddy water will bring some green, a few desert flowers . . . but not yet.

Fortunately, in the meantime, we still have squash. Butternut squash was the first winter vegetable I fell in love with, since what’s not to love; the round, slightly sweet flavors, the vibrant orange color, and in this case, brightened up further for the coming spring with some new and unexpected spices and a tangy sauce.

I mentioned that we’ve cooked a LOT of recipes from Plenty by Yotam Ottolenghi this winter, this is latest one; which I adapted to my tastes and what was in my pantry that day. It was just perfect to make ahead and leave in a friend’s refrigerator while we gallivanted around the desert, ready and waiting for all of us to be hungry when we got back.

Roasted Butternut Squash with Sweet Spices and Tangy Chile Sauce

Adapted from Plenty by Yotam Ottolenghi

Serves 5 as an appetizer

Preheat the oven to 400° F

Take two very small, or one medium-large butternut squash. Cut the squash in half lengthwise, scoop out the seeds and set them aside for later. Slice the squash 3/8 inch or 1 cm thick. Lay out the slices on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper or a non-stick mat.

Take 1 Tablespoon of dried cardamom pods; break the green pods open, either with your fingers or by crushing them a bit in a mortar and pestle. Discard the pods but keep all the seeds which are inside. Crush the seeds until they are roughly ground, either with a mortar and pestle or a spice grinder.

Add the ground cardamom to a small bowl with: 1 teaspoon ground allspice and 3 Tablespoons olive oil. Stir this up and brush it all over the squash slices.

Sprinkle a little salt over the squash, and roast in the oven until the slices are tender but not mushy when stabbed with a fork, about 15 minutes.

Meanwhile, separate the squash seeds from the stringy stuff they grow in, and put the seeds into the bowl with the leftover oil and spices, mix them around to coat.

For the sauce: stir together the juice of 1/2 lime, several heaping Tablespoons of crème fraîche (once you have it, you put it on everything) and some chopped fresh chile – I used 1/2 of one large defrosted frozen roasted one from last fall (you can put those on everything too). If dairy is not your thing, these would also be great with just a little chile or hot sauce, or maybe even a sweet and hot sauce . . .

When the squash is done, transfer it to a cutting board, or platter or bowl to serve, and put the seeds on the same baking sheet and roast them for 10 – 15 minutes, until golden and crunchy. You can serve them with the squash, or eat them as a road-trip snack. The leftover spices are more subtle, but delicious with the toasted seed flavor.

To serve the squash, slide a small sharp knife around the outside of the slices, taking off just the peel. If you run out of time, you can also serve them as they are and let the eaters peel their own. This is good cold or room temp, with a little sauce drizzled over the top.

So, what are you eating? Is it spring yet where you are?

Body and Earth, Home Territory

Posted on September 28, 2012 by Tasha

I’m pleased to report we’re home at last! At last – without a crazy amount to do, with all my beautiful supplies and tools right in front of me, in my studio, in the kitchen! Bliss. We got back late Wednesday night (the same day I took these pictures), and the last thing I did before falling asleep was read the last chapter of a really interesting book I’ve been working my way through, Body and Earth by Andrea Olsen. It was the textbook to a class one of my cousins took at Middlebury College. My aunt read it too, she kept talking about how much she liked it, and finally they let me borrow a copy.

To be honest, it starts off a little bit, umm, out in left field for me – talking about our evolutionary history and how that relates to the way our bodies move. But, it moves on pretty quickly into more concrete territory, talking about body processes, earth systems, and ways we can affect both, in a really integrative way that I loved. I have been working on posture and healthy ways to work with my body a lot lately, and there are a lot of exercises and ideas in this book that I found really interesting and helpful. But as far as just things to think about, the end of the book may be the best part. There are a few chapters about connections between earth, body and society, again talking about how everything is related rather than each part on its own. There are a couple of quotes in this part that speak to what I’m trying to say here.

Our culture breeds dissatisfaction in order to sell products . . . As we realize that we are sensual beings, living as part of a world that delights the senses, we can distance ourselves from the cultural baggage of dissatisfaction. We need less, not more, to experience a full life.

As we commodify art and creativity, we see art as other and creativity as foreign, rather than familiar. In the process, we risk losing access to our deepest visions and our intuitive resources. Conversely, as we reclaim creativity, we engage the unknown on a daily basis and listen for truth.

We have grown accustomed to high-end art: perfect recordings, museum paintings, and multimillion-dollar films. But creativity is personal. As we participate in the process, we recognize that it is not just about observing, not just about buying and consuming, alienating ourselves from our own creativity. It is about participating in the creative universe we live in.

It seemed fitting somehow that as I finished this book, we came back into the landscape of my childhood, the places I feel the most connected to. When we started into the plains and mountains of southwest Colorado, I felt such a tug on my heart, it’s not just that this place is beautiful (spectacular this time of year as the leaves change), it’s that I love it and I feel rooted here. The desert, so close and yet so different, I love it too, even though I hated it driving across it as a kid, it seemed so empty. It still seems stark, but so open, so subtle, so much a part of my home.

Just the clouds are amazing. I’ll be back soon with more on participating in our creative universe!

Kent State Museum and Ohio Food Finds

Posted on September 19, 2012 by Tasha

I feel like it took me a while to figure out that if I saw, for example, a cool exhibit was happening at a museum somewhere, especially in the Midwest, chances are we could go there at some point during the year. That’s how we ended up at the Kent State Museum. What I didn’t realize was that in addition to the resist dye exhibit I read about, the whole museum (ok it’s small, but still) is costume and textiles, and they have a permanent hall of historical fashion!! For any of you who don’t already know, I’ve been obsessed with historical clothing for the longest time.

Everything is presented in the best possible way for close-up viewing, with no glass between you and the textiles. My feet were demurely (ok barely) outside the barriers, but my head was basically in the exhibits, soaking up tiny hand stitching. Things made before the sewing machine I find extra fascinating, I’m always wondering how my stitching would stack up in those days. And how did they make those tiny perfect gathers?

As you may have guessed from the lack of detailed images of all this amazing clothing so far, this museum has a strict no photography policy. And I have a “do unto others” policy when it comes to photos and copyright. And any iPhone photos I could have snuck in on the sly would in no way capture the level of detail that you can really see. If we’re going to the area next year I may try to get advance permission to take some photos, or bring a sketchbook. But really, the only way to see this is for yourself.

We stumbled on a couple of notable food finds in Ohio as well, namely Jeni’s Splendid Ice Cream. Splendid is the right word! We tried four flavors, all of which were spectacular – tart cherry sorbet made with lambic, pear sorbet with Riesling, blackberry and sweet corn, and brown butter almond brittle, and there were about 50 more that looked amazing. Well worth going out of your way for, in Columbus, Cleveland and Nashville TN, plus available in groceries around the area.

That’s actually how we found out about it, while shopping for bread and cheese to go with a free tomato. One of my goals for this trip was to snag some maple syrup local to somewhere we passed through, since we’re all out at home. On a byroad we passed a maple syrup sign at a place that mostly sells small storage buildings (I am not making this up) and stopped to get some. The man working there kindly also gave us a large tomato. So anyway, as we were picking out cognac fig goat cheese (from Mackenzie Creamery) Bryan spotted a sign, “Did you know that cognac fig is also a flavor of Jeni’s Ice Cream?”