Take Me out to the Parkway….

August: on a sunny San Diego Saturday I’m not at the beach, the bay or the salon. I’m covered in dirt, shoveling soil at home. It’s 81 degrees. Sweat is dripping down my front, my back, my face. I’m the essence of glamour.

No one is forcing me to toil like this on a weekend. This choice is mine. The parkway strip between the street and the sidewalk desperately needs a makeover and so 81 degrees or not, I’m moving dirt, getting blisters, waving at neighbors, and sweating. I love it.

This makeover is mostly about decreasing the number of weeds in the parkway strip in front of our house. We have been here fifteen years, and for a lot of that time, certain projects simply had to wait. I have three kids to keep alive. But the kiddos are more self-sufficient now, and this summer I decided that the Natural Look (aka weed patch) had reached its expiration date. This is a chance to give a new look to the front of our house. My requirements: it must be low maintenance, visually interesting, and budget friendly.

Removing the weeds is easier said than done. They’re hearty and stubborn and they’ve dug in their heels. It is taking a lot of shovel work to dislodge them. They are the cockroaches of the plant world—hard to eliminate and they like to crop up in unexpected places, even when you think you got them all.

Here is a photo of the parkway strip before the makeover:

It has some personality, with the pops of blue and my succulents. But the weeds are not part of the look I want. Yet how do you get rid of them? Weed cloth was under all the weeds in front, and still, weeds grew. So I’m digging up all the weeds, and I will pour concrete pavers in the front. I’m going to reposition the blue planters I created a year ago and use plants I already have. Concrete for the pavers is inexpensive and I am reusing our river rock. Frugal and Fabulous is the theme.

September: several times during this project I have questioned my own sanity. I love challenging myself, but where is the line between a healthy challenge and self-torture? It’s blurry. At times progress feels slow. But I can see the progress, and this feels satisfying. When you have young kids, there are so many chores that never seem to be completed. (See: laundry, cooking and dish-washing.) The moment you finish certain chores, they start piling up again. So seeing the progress in Operation Dirt is encouraging. Also, I’m getting a great workout for my back, arms, shoulders and legs. I’m doing it all myself, which feels good. Or crazy. It alternates.

Here are the stats:

·         1,740 pounds of dry concrete mix is what I used. (The weight once I added water? Heavy.)

·         43 feet by 4 feet is the size of the parkway strip.

·         36 pavers is how many I created.

·         $18 dollars is what I spent on mosaic pieces and stained glass. (I smashed them into  slivers, so I got a lot of bang for my buck).

·        101 bricks were used (free from Craigslist!).

·         Gallons of sweat rolling off my body? Countless.

Late September: I have been mixing and shoveling hundreds of pounds of concrete. I’m feeling pretty fierce! But my forearms feel like they have been trampled by a gorilla. Still, I’m making progress and the weeds are gone.

Some days I look at my project and feel like Sisyphus, rolling the boulder up a hill only to have it crash down. Will I ever be finished? Other days I look at my work and feel self-conscious about my mistakes. And on certain days I like how it all looks, and I am proud that I gave it a try. Stepping out of my comfort zone is helping me to grow.

In the grand scheme of things, this project is not super important. Being a good mom and a decent person are much more important to me than how the parkway strip looks. But I see this strip many times each day and giving it a makeover is giving me a lift. (And blisters.) Making it look better is worth my effort. My neighbors’ gardens give me a boost, so if something colorful in our yard also gives our neighbors a boost, it’s a win-win.

And isn’t that how life is? Oftentimes it’s the small things that give a lot of satisfaction…. 

Scottish Bowling

Twenty one years ago, this blog post planted its roots. In September 1997 I moved into an apartment in North Park, and for two years I drove by an iconic building almost daily. I’ve only been in it twice, but this week I finished a painting of this fascinating place. It’s the Scottish Rite Center in Mission Valley, and it’s enormous. Among other things, it has a 10,000 square foot ballroom for trade shows.

If you’re bored, stay tuned. This building had a different function in the 50s. It was A. Happening. Spot.

The center is right by Interstate 8 and the Texas Street offramp, which was my exit. That freeway, that offramp and certain San Diego landmarks have a really special place in my heart. My apartment wasn’t anything glamorous (think peeling linoleum), but the first place you live on your own—the first place you choose, where you’re the queen of the castle—those are powerful memories.  

But back to the building. It was built in 1957 as a bowling alley with 55 lanes and a lounge with a live band. In 1965 it became the Scottish Rite Center. This is how the building looked originally, when it was Bowlero. I love its style and personality.

A vintage advertisement from when The Scottish Rite Center was Bowlero (1957-1965).

I wish I could go back in time for a night to experience the fun of this place in the late 1950s.

But let’s get back to why I painted the building. I love design from the 50s and 60s. This building is a classic example of midcentury-modern architecture, with its dramatic peaked roof, and angled steel support beams. It also has a butterfly roof, which was a popular design feature in the 1950s. The 50s were the days of car culture, and roadside architecture from those days was created to catch the eye of drivers cruising around town. Motels, restaurants, bowling alleys and car washes featured giant signs with pointed arrows, neon, soaring roofs, or dramatic steel canopies—or all of these at once—to attract potential customers. The center’s huge, covered walkway was not designed to protect people from the annual few inches of rain San Diego received. No, at least in California, architecture was more about grabbing attention rather than providing shelter from the elements. Many buildings from the 50s no longer exist here, so when I find one that still has its original flair, I want to capture its style in a painting.

I began painting this building in early August, on a day when temperatures were in the 80s. While paint dried on my paper, sweat slid down my back. Hey, we artists suffer for our work. 

That August morning I set up shop in the back of my car. Tailgaiting a la Sarah. By coincidence--not planning--I had a few binder clamps and a towel in the back of my car, so I set up a sun shade by clamping the towel to the open rear hatch. It was my portable studio, and I appreciated the shade. First, I drew in the major lines of the building in pencil, using a ruler. I don’t always use a ruler when painting but I wanted to capture the sharp midcentury angles. 

Underpainting in orange.

Next, I did a layer of orange underpainting. Most of it would be covered but I left a little bit peeking through here and there, just for added interest and contrast.  

Here is how the building looks these days.

The painting turned out okay but I didn’t feel like it captured how cool the building is. So I came back recently to try again. I still got sweaty but it was cooler than when I painted here in August. I’m happier with the second version (below).

After I painted, I walked up the hill behind the building. The photo below shows the Scottish Rite Center from above. You can see that the main part of the (huge) building is a modified Quonset hut, which was a popular design, post-WWII. 

From the hill above. This place is enormous....

And so, more than two decades after first noticing this eye-catching building, I have painted it. That’s satisfying. Many people might not choose to paint on a hot morning, standing on asphalt, a few feet from a noisy freeway. But for me, it was awesome. The freeway sounds became a peaceful hum of background noise. The sweat reminded me that doing something meaningful has its cost—and that it’s worth it. I completed a painting I like, and studied some cool architecture. Sweaty mission accomplished. The center may not house bowling lanes anymore, but I feel like I bowled a strike.

Wacky Wednesday #94: Postcards

Fifty three postcards. That’s how many I’m wearing today. I often save things as potential art supplies, but these postcards are ones I’ve saved for sentimental purposes.

It has been almost a whole year since my last Wacky Wednesday (51 weeks!). A year ago I began teaching art on Wednesdays, so costumes had to wait. But I will get to 100 WW (at some point). And I will try very hard not to wait another 51 weeks until my next Wacky Wednesday. 

Today’s costume is a trip down Memory Lane because half of these postcards were sent to me over the years. Some of these postcards were not mailed but were given to me as gifts, or ones I bought as souvenirs. Some date back twenty five years! Why have I kept them? Good question. I’ve been looking through boxes of old postcards and letters sent to me in my teens and twenties, before email was mainstream. Back then, letters and postcards kept me connected to friends and family. Keeping these tokens of friendship made sense to me. (In truth, part of me wishes I hadn’t kept as much. After all, it means I have to sort it now. But another part of me knows that the sentimental side of my personality is part of what makes me…ME.)

In my stash there are postcards dating back to the nineties. Some of my closest friends from my teens, Maia, Allison, Jenna and Spencer, sent me lots of postcards and letters back in the day. My parents and sister always sent them while on vacation. My friend Ritwik sent me postcards regularly while he lived in Europe. In this collection, I have postcards from thirteen different countries. I love seeing the variety. Some people choose scenic postcards. Others choose funny ones. Personally, I don’t like the ones that have “MIAMI” in 90-point font on top of the photo. You can barely see the photo! But no matter the photo, receiving a postcard is fun. A postcard is a quick, inexpensive way to say “Hi.” Like today’s texts. But while I like digital messages, it takes extra effort to write a postcard, stamp it and find a mailbox. Postcards are rectangular paper hugs.

From Spencer in 1993, as the postmark shows.

From Dad, 1997.

From my roommate Melissa, in 1995, from South America.

1993. My friend Harold.

From Dad, 1996.

Total cost: fifty five cents in hot glue sticks. 

I glued and sewed the postcards to some scrap fabric I made into a shirt. (Sewing meant I could take off the postcards later.) The fabric and thread were already in my sewing stash, and everything else is made from supplies already on hand. Repurposing. Frugal fun!

Looking at these postcards is like paging through an old photo album. Postcards reveal so much more than the photo on the front. They are a snapshot of a time and place, the stages my friends were in when they wrote them, and the stages I was in when I received them. It is fun to appreciate the unusual stamps, and it brings back happy memories to see my friends’ individual handwriting styles. Texting and email eliminate handwriting, and they are easy to read, yes. But handwriting is more personal. 

By one account, the first postcard ever sent was by an English writer in 1848. Other reports credit the first postcard to Austria (186(9) or France (1870). Postcards were developed as a more affordable means of communication because they required less postage than a letter. Of course, space was limited so you had to restrict your message to only a few sentences. Maybe postcards are the predecessor to the current trend of “tweeting,” in which you are limited to 280 characters. (Until last fall, Twitter limited the length of tweets to only 140 characters.) I appreciate the challenge of conveying an idea with only a few words, but I do not tweet. I am from the More Is More School of Words.

Although I do not send or receive as many postcards as I once did, I accept that digital communication is the new black. So to speak.

I will recycle a lot of my old letters once I look through them further. And the postcards are being repurposed in this costume. So don’t call Hoarders Anonymous. Yet.

Initial sketch of my idea.

I hope this costume made you smile. Perhaps it reminded you of postcards you once sent or received. Or of the days when the mailbox might contain a surprise hello from a friend. They capture a moment and a peek into a friendship. Yes, I’m a borderline hoarder, but it’s really warmed my heart to look through these memories from long ago.

Now, does anyone have any 35 cent stamps?

Mosaic and Mom-Zebra

I am now a part-time zebra.

I’ve been up to my elbows in a mosaic project, and to make space, I had to move a lot of dirt. When you spend hours shoveling dirt and mixing concrete, a certain percentage of these materials land on your skin. And they settle into the generous layer of sunscreen you have applied. Hours later, when you are sitting in the bath, scratching layers of grime off your arms, you’ll notice that the lines you scratch appear gray (dirt-sunscreen mix) against the light brown of your arm. Faintly zebra-like.

My summer theme: Got dirt?

This idea was inspired by two friends: Sam and Veronica. Sam is my artist friend who personalizes her yard with mosaic she makes. Veronica led the art camp in which I taught kids to make mosaic stepping stones. Mosaic has been on my mind, and I decided I would make stepping stones at our place. First, I trimmed part of the Jasmine vine to the right of the door, while leaving all of the vine to the left. This was followed by moving a lot of river rock, shoveling loads of dirt and pulling tons of weeds. Yard re-dos aren’t crucial the way faulty plumbing issues are, but for a Do-It-Yourselfer like me, they give a gal a boost.

There have been multiple trips to the home improvement store, hefting 60-pound bags of concrete mix. (Yes, that was me, yelling a Tarzan/Jane roar and beating my chest.) A man behind me at checkout said, “It’s not every day I see a woman with a cart full of concrete mix.” To which I replied, “It’s very satisfying!” What does all this concrete-mixing, dirt-shoveling and rock-moving do for a mom’s manicure? Who cares? These things at the end of my arms are not decorative. My hands are tools!

We have an unusually-shaped garden patch to the right of our front door, the result of a room addition that predates us. Over the years I’ve tried different ways to use it. I planted things, and I added potted plants. I rearranged. I pulled weeds. I ignored weeds. I have three kids to keep alive, so sometimes yard projects wait. A long time. But I wanted to try to make the area different. I wanted the weeds gone. I decided that a colorful mosaic “floor” was an option. There were a few dozen bricks available for free, when renovation was complete at our neighbor’s house. I wasn’t sure what I wanted this area to look like but I wanted change, and figured I could adjust it later if I wanted to. Eventually I decided to make a curved path of bricks, with mosaic stepping stones and ground cover. 

BEFORE. This is our garden patch before my re-do.
I didn't end up buying new plants, because we have plenty.
Simply rearranging the potted plants gives the area a new look.

AFTER. Here is the same area. Who knows?
I may change it at some point but it has given my soul a boost to try a new look.

  

  

If you’re thinking of making some stepping stones, you can map out your design first on paper. I traced the outline of a plastic garden saucer onto paper, because I was going to use this saucer for my stepping stone mold. I found the center of the circle and divided it into four, so that my stepping stone would have a symmetrical design. I had a lot of the materials on hand already, so these pieces were not only easy on the wallet, they were also satisfying because I made a dent in my giant collection of PAMs (Potential Art Materials).  

  

I repurposed an old kitchen drawer for my paver mold.
It's an original drawer from our 1956 kitchen.
This drawer was sitting in our garage for years.
I knew it would come in handy someday!

Here's a photo I took during my re-do.
Leveling the area involved moving more dirt than I expected. 

I used chalk and a tape measure on our driveway to map out the shape I wanted to create.

The "Aloha" mosaic I did on our wall is one of the first mosaic pieces I ever made--probably ten years ago.
The weed cloth above will keep the weeds out (or to a minimum)--I hope!

This photo isn't really a Before Photo.
I'd already trimmed a lot of the vine before I took the photo.
The vine hung almost to the ground and really blocked a sight line to the front door. 

So far I'm liking the pavers I made.
I love that the space is now more open.
But now I see lots of areas where I need to touch up paint,
so I guess that the To Do list is never truly finished!

The bulk of this work was completed before the recent major heat wave descended on us. This was coincidental, but the timing was good. It’s sweaty work, even when it’s not a million degrees outside.

The summer is off to a good start. In addition to all this yard work, I've spent more time with our kids. They have needed a break from the hustle-bustle of the school year, and it's a win-win to have a different pace. 

Sweating in the sun and scraping layers of dirt off each day may not be your cup of…lemonade--but it’s quenched my thirst for a re-do. Personalizing my space always feels so satisfying. My mosaic projects may not save the world—but they are bringing more color and joy into my world, and that’s worthwhile.

Mosaic Gives the Past a Future

Art can help us heal. I was reminded of this truth when my friend Gladys gave her late mom’s jewelry to the mosaic workshop I led recently.

The mosaic lessons were part of a local art camp organized by our friend Veronica. It was at the church where I participated in the community garden for a number of years. It’s where my kids did preschool. So I have positive feelings about the place, and immediately agreed when Veronica asked if I would teach the kids to make mosaic stepping stones.

We brainstormed about what to ask people to donate for the stepping stones. With mosaic, you can mix and match, and the components don’t have to be expensive. (This is a great way to repurpose things you may have kept for sentimental reasons—a single earring, a broken necklace, old keys. This is also an excellent way to bring whimsy to your garden—because mosaic can involve things as random as hard plastic toys, extra scrabble tiles or almost anything made of a hard material that can stand up to outdoor elements like rain, wind and sun.)

The camp was possible because lots of volunteers came together to make it happen. Gladys was there every day, helping. After the kids finished their stepping stones I learned that some of the bracelets and necklaces we used in our mosaic pieces belonged to Gladys’ mom, Ida. Ida passed away recently, and Gladys has been sorting through her mom’s possessions. The timing coincided with our need for donations for mosaic projects. Gladys told me that it was more meaningful for her to give the necklaces to the camp rather than to donate them to a thrift store. She liked that she would know some of the kids who created something unique from Ida’s jewelry.

I divided the items into groups so that each camper would get a variety of items.

I love that Gladys wanted to give new life to her mom’s jewelry by giving it to the kids for art. In their grief, some people cannot bear to part with a parent’s things, and I’m not judging that because we all grieve differently. But I think that Gladys saw the potential for a little bit of healing in donating Ida’s jewelry to the kids. These items are from Ida’s past but they now have a future. Since I cut the necklaces up, the beads went into more than forty different mosaic pieces. Maybe it is because Gladys and I knew each other through the community garden, but I feel like turning those necklaces into dozens of art pieces is similar to how gardening works. You take one seed and it becomes a plant, which makes seeds, which turn into many plants.

The campers had fun making their stepping stones. (It led me to want to make some for our place, which I began doing a few days later. Stay tuned for Part 2 of this mosaic theme.) The kids had different approaches to their mosaic art: some were meticulous, and formed symmetrical, detailed designs. Others placed the pieces randomly, and finished in minutes. But they all created a stepping stone. Some kids may not have back yards for keeping a stepping stone, but these mosaic pieces can be a colorful welcome at the front door to an apartment. Each stepping stone is unique, just like the kids who made them.

And now Ida’s jewelry pieces are in stepping stones throughout San Diego, twinkling in the summer sun. Scattered seeds. And Ida shines on.