Saturday, September 10, 2016

Settling into September


September 10, 2016 – Settling into September

After a busy summer, I’m ready for September.  It’s a month full of changes.  In Fairfax County, the teachers and students are back in school.  Although the temperatures are still in the 80s and 90s, the smell of cinnamon brooms pervades Wegman’s. Any day now, pumpkin stands are bound to appear in the parking lots.  But before I become too eager for the next season, here’s a quick look back at the last few weeks of summer. 

Much of my time was taken up with two trips to New York to visit friends and family, both old and new.  The ease and comfort of reconnecting with long-time friends is such a pleasure of getting older.  My friendship with Hilary (not the former Secretary of State) goes back to kindergarten.  Recently, we got together for lunch at the new Northern Food Hall at Grand Central Terminal and exchanged stories of travels, family, and retirement activities.  Over Labor Day weekend, I met up with Simon, a dear Atlanta-based cousin. He and his wife were in Brooklyn visiting their son and ten-month old twin granddaughters.  Our get-together was especially fun because Elisa and Christian brought Sylvie along to meet her new cousins.

Brooklyn continues to delight me with sights and attractions to discover. Through long walks, I’m getting to know a variety of neighborhoods, such as Park Slope, Boerum Hill, Cobble Hill, and Carroll Gardens. For the first time, I walked through the Brooklyn Heights neighborhood.  In addition to admiring the lovely homes, I came across an intriguing Lebanese Maronite Catholic church with stained glass windows unlike those I’ve seen in any other church in Europe or the U.S.  These had a very mosaic-like quality, probably reflecting the influence of Byzantine art.  And The Brooklyn Heights promenade offered a spectacular view of the Manhattan skyline.  

On the Brooklyn Heights promenade

  
In downtown Brooklyn, I spent a couple of hours learning about the history of the New York City subway system in the Transit Museum.  The museum, which is located underground in an old subway station, presents a wealth of information through well-designed exhibits.  The large number of archival photos from the construction phase in the early 1900s helped me understood the dangerous conditions faced by the workers, who were mostly recent immigrants and African-Americans.  Reading about the underpinning work required to support existing structures made me think of my father.  He was a civil engineer who worked in the construction business in New York for many years.  I was amused by the advertising in a couple of old subway cars.  The ads, which dated back to the 1940s and 50s, featured products like Burma-Shave shaving cream and Chuckles candy, and but the most intriguing ad wasn’t for an actual consumer product.  It was a Cold War-era ad for Skywatch, a civil defense program that counseled citizens to watch the skies and report Russian planes.  Wow!

1950s subway ad
Sylvie made our visit to Brighton Beach on a sunny afternoon especially memorable.  She loves anything related to water.  Russian was the main language we heard spoken on the beach and in the parks where groups of deeply tanned older men, with shirts unbuttoned to the waist, sat playing chess. Russian specialties were featured on the menus of the restaurants that lined the boardwalk.  With the enormous high-rise apartment buildings strung from Coney Island to Brighton Beach, the area wasn’t as picturesque as I’d imagined.  However, in some ways, the area retains some of its former charm.  Steeplechase Park, the old amusement park with its famed roller coaster, the Cyclone, still stands near the Aquarium.  It brought back memories of my birthday celebration the summer I turned five years old.  My father even borrowed a convertible from one of his friends for that outing. 

I made time for a museum visit, too.  The Museum of Modern Art (MOMA) has long been a favorite of mine.  When I was in high school on Long Island, I’d often stop by when I went into the city.  I’d linger in front of certain paintings, such as van Gogh’s Starry Night, Robert Delaunay’s circular Sun, Moon, Simultaneous 2, and Henri Mattise’s Dance (see photos below).  Of course, I headed straight for these “old friends” on my recent visit.  I also sought out paintings that I thought would have attracted Elliott’s attention.  He greatly admired Cezanne’s work and was influenced by Cubists such as Braque, Gris and Picasso when he was studying painting in Paris in the mid-1950s.  Thanks to a couple of art history classes at GMU, I was better able to appreciate works by American painters Gerald Murphy, Florine Stettheimer and Jackson Pollack as well. 

van Gogh's Starry Night

Delaunay's Sun, Moon, Simultaneous 2

Matisse's Dance
As usual, food was a central part of my New York experience.  I can highly recommend the new Danish restaurant, Bornholm, on Smith Street, just a few short blocks from Elisa’s apartment.  Sylvie is now an official foodie.  She and I shared a bagel with lox and cream cheese, a fruit tart from Mia’s bakery, falafel from Zaytoon’s – and anything else she saw me eating or drinking. Actually, her willingness to share can go to an extreme, for example, a partially chewed strawberry that she took out of her mouth and offered to me.  That’s my sweet Sylvie! 

Afternoon snack on the patio at Mia's Bakery on Smith Street

Sharing a water bottle

Back at home in northern Virginia, I made a few more trips down to the Workhouse to do some firings in late August.  My summer glasswork didn’t turn out exactly as I’d hoped when I took my approach to cooking and applied it to firing fused glass.  The reason is simple.  I tend to undercook food.  I like my roasted vegetables crisp, my baked salmon a little rare, and my homemade cookies still soft and chewy.  I can always add extra cooking time, if necessary.  Therefore, when I programmed the kiln, I kept the temperature a little low and the hold time a little short.  As a result, my glass pieces sat on the molds but didn’t slump properly.  Fused glass should not be undercooked.  Now I’ll have to do a slump firing again, with a higher temperature and longer hold time.  Oh, well, it’s a learning process. 

And speaking of learning, I’ve started a new class at GMU.  This time, it’s a year-long class in Renaissance art, taught by the same fabulous professor I had for the 19th century art class last spring. Since so much of the European art from this period is religious, I’ll have to do some extra reading to remedy my lack of exposure to Christianity.  And of course, I’ll have to schedule a field trip to Italy to see the art in person.  Is anyone interested in joining me?

My main challenge now is getting the various aspects of my life back into balance.  I’m finding that I’m already quite busy, and a little voice keeps whispering to me, “Slow down.  Less is more.”  “But everything I do is good for me,” I protest.  Mentally, I run through the list of activities and why they’re important – exercise classes for my physical health, writing the blog and doing fused glass work to satisfy my creative impulses, socializing with many friends, reading for intellectual stimulation, going up to Brooklyn, doing volunteer work, etc.   I must admit, however, that sometimes I just want to stop and do nothing for a little while. 

On the surface, everything seems okay.  Lots of good things are happening in my life.  Yet, when I step back from the busy-ness of everyday life, I notice a vague sense of unease.  Something is not quite right.  It may be that I’m missing Elliott.  I want to talk to him, to tell him about what I’m doing and to show him photos of Sylvie.  He was the person I confided in for so many years.  It’s hard to accept that he’s not coming back – ever.  Sometimes the sense of loss hits me suddenly, out of nowhere.  It’s not a teary feeling but a profound sadness along with a strong need to feel needed emotionally.

Is this feeling compounded by fear of aging?  Is it the recognition that I don’t have complete control of my life.  I keep wondering, what’s the new normal?  My life keeps changing and I’m constantly making adjustments.  If wisdom comes with age, I’d better hurry and catch up.  At this point, all I can say with 100% certainty is that I’ll never have it all figured out. 

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