art
Self Nurturing: Creative Surroundings
I have already mentioned in another posting, Self Nurturing- GrillSmith Of Tampa, FL, that I really appreciate good food. I think the preparation of food is an art of its own. Good cooking is definitely a God-given talent. The skillful combination of the flavors, the colors, and the textures of different kinds of food along with the pleasing presentation to the client is as creative as painting a picture. So just imagine blending these two creative arts together!
In the past couple of months I’ve established a new routine for myself that brings me much joy. On the first Sunday of each month I go to St. Augustine, Florida to walk and meditate in the labyrinth that my friend Lorelei creates in the wet sand at low tide. It is a wonderful time of going inwards to my God-centered self. I shared that experience in a previous posting, Labyrinth Meditation At The Beach. What I didn’t mention in that posting is what I do before I get to the labyrinth.
Part of this new routine includes a stop at another location in St. Augustine to have brunch. It’s a restaurant called Zhanra’s which is just across the Bridge of Lions on Anastasia Island. Richard and I tried Zhanra’s about a year ago when we went to see Michael W. Smith and Steven Curtis Chapman in concert at the St. Augustine Amphitheater. We had an excellent dinner and were very impressed by the menu choices, the presentation, and the good and friendly service. The prices were very reasonable too.
The restaurant itself is very welcoming and warm. The decor does not follow the usual pattern or design of most of the “chain” restaurants. It is very simple and unique. When you walk in there is a long serving counter on the wall immediately opposite the front door. To the right there is a very accommodating bar that has tall tables and stools where you can also dine, while to the left is the main dining area.
But what adds to the decor and makes Zhanra’s so special is the art work on the walls. It is bright and beautiful and very eclectic and showcases a great variety of artist’s work. These paintings are up for sale, so while you are eating you can also appreciate and even acquire a great piece of art. Because the art is sold, or because the artists choose to rotate their work out from time to time, new pieces appear from one visit to another.
An interesting feature connected to the art work is found in a corner of the main dining room. A small working space is set up and I believe that some of the artists come in from time to time to work on a piece while the diners are enjoying their meal.
When Richard and I made our first visit to Zhanra’s we knew we would be back again because it was very good and because it was different. So when we learned that they offered a Sunday brunch from 10am to 2pm we chose to make it a stop on one of our Harley rides. And we were hooked! We have been back twice as a couple and I have returned twice with friends and yet another time we both went back with a small group.
So let me walk you through the brunch process. You are seated by the host/hostess and a server takes your drink order immediately. Large and small plates are provided on the table and you can go to the buffet freely. However, we always wait so that we can put in our order with our server for waffles or French toast. I have never eaten the waffles because I am so addicted to their French toast which is, in my opinion, food of the gods!!
The long serving counter that I mentioned in a previous paragraph is laden down with all things scrumptious for the brunch. There is a chef at one end who will cook omelets to your specifications. As you proceed along the counter there are hot containers with quiche, grits, scrambled eggs, apple smoked bacon and sausages (my personal favorite!), fresh melt-in-your-mouth biscuits and gravy, and the best home-fried potatoes I have ever tasted. And just in case you need to start your brunch with a soup there are two offered, one of which is usually a great gumbo.
But it doesn’t stop there! As you turn the corner of the buffet counter there are several large trays. One is piled high with a mountain of freshly cut fruit in season. Another contains pre-cut bagels of every description, and beside that there is a tray full of different Danish pastries cut up into bite size chunks so that you can try the different types. Yet one more container holds muffins just to round out your choices.
All this for the princely sum of $9.99 plus drink. It has to be the best value and one of the best dining and creative art experiences that I have ever enjoyed. By the way, I forgot to mention that the art exhibits continue on into the bathrooms and Zhanra’s offers another creative art form too. Most nights there is different live music to enjoy. So go and satisfy the artist in your soul. I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.
Musings: Relativity & Perspective
No, I’m not going to do an Albert Einstein. I do not have that kind of analytical and scientific mind. But it struck me that any given situation will probably be viewed differently by each person involved in it. I just have to think about any normal, every day conversation between myself and my husband and how we sometimes struggle to understand exactly what the other is saying – and we’re both speaking English, and are relatively on the same page!
Just recently I read a phrase that really caught my attention. It said something like, “A mistake is just another way of doing something.” Yesterday I read another phrase which said, “A weed is no more than a flower in disguise.” And they both carry the same message as the old proverb, “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”
I remember participating in a workshop some years ago. There were various projects and activities that we engaged in during the course of the workshop. One that I will always remember went something like this. We re-entered the classroom after a short break and in the middle of the chalk board was the word “track”.
The instructor asked us to just focus on that one word. Then she asked us not to talk among ourselves and to write a sentence using that word. As I recall, there were about twenty to twenty five of us in the class. There may have been a handful of sentences written that were similar. The rest were completely unique, each offering a different meaning and use of the word.
I’m sure that this creates problems from time to time. Going back to my husband and I, I can think of a few times when the discussion has become somewhat heated simply because of two completely different perspectives, understandings of, one word or phrase. (We’re probably not a good example because I’m British and he’s American, so the language barrier in and of itself sometimes is a bit of a beast!!!)
But different perspectives can also bring wonderful variety to our lives. Just think of art and architecture, and what about music? All the unique styles created by different people enrich our lives in all those areas. I absolutely love Modigliani and Monet and yet they create works at opposite ends of the spectrum. As do Degas and Dali and yet both have produced works of exquisite beauty.
I cannot imagine life without the Beatles and the Rolling Stones. But there are days when all I want to hear is Dvorak or Beethoven. And when I’m in the mood, please get my toes a-tapping with some down-to-earth, boot-stomping Blue Grass.
On the news yesterday and today are the heart-wrenching stories and pictures from Samoa and Indonesia. People’s lives torn apart, wrecked by savage tsunami’s and earthquakes, forces of nature over which we have no control. Any “small stuff” problems that I may have been lamenting about dwindle into nothingness by comparison.
Probably the biggest example of perspective that I can remember in my own life happened back in the mid seventies. I was living in Sardinia at the time. It was a gorgeous, warm, clear August evening and the sky was littered with millions of stars forming the Milky Way. I remember standing on the patio of my little cottage and getting a cricked neck from staring upwards.
Then I had an idea. There was a six-foot long wooden picnic table on the patio which I covered with a sleeping bag. Then I lay on top and in wonderful comfort began to star gaze. It was an incredible experience. It looked as though someone had taken a dozen sacks full of diamonds and thrown them across the width and breadth of the sky.
It was only then, at the ripe old age of thirty something, that I began to get a clear idea of what the universe was about. As I lay on that picnic table I suddenly realized that it wasn’t just a flat dark blue background with “big stars, and little stars” painted all over it. I understood for the first time the significance of the word “infinity”.
I became aware that the “little stars’ were in fact probably just as “big” as the others seemed to me, but that they were further away and thus seemed “smaller”. And I also realized that if I squinted I could just barely see even “smaller” stars that were even further away. And in that one moment the full magnitude of “the universe” hit me.
In that one moment I was both terrified and also in total awe, and I realized just how insignificant I really was in the bigger scheme of things. And yet I also realized just how important I must be to my God that He has chosen to place me here in the bigger scheme of things.
Self Nurturing: Working The Clay
Many years ago, perhaps in 1981 or 1982, I treated myself to a short course in pottery. I was living in London at the time and worked in the area called The City. This is the financial district where all the major banks have their head offices and various supporting financial institutions and the London Stock Exchange are also located there.
An adult education program was being offered in a school near my office and one of the classes on the evening schedule was pottery. I have always had artistic inclinations and loved indulging my creative side. The course was only six weeks long and, because it was being offered within the City education system, the cost was very low. Pottery was one area of the arts that I had not tried and so I enrolled.
As soon as I touched the wet clay I was hooked. There is something both soothing and sensual about working with clay. I am a very tactile, hands-on type person so I was in my element. By the end of the first class I already had two pieces made and ready to dry. I could barely wait till the following week when we made another, slightly more complicated piece and also glazed our first work.
Upon returning to the third class I was ecstatic. There on a table sat two items with my name printed neatly on a label in front of them. They looked like something that I would buy in a store. They looked professional. One was a flat, rectangular, plate-size dish with a slightly raised, inch-wide border that I had glazed in a deep burgundy red overlaid with a black speckle effect.
The other was an eight inch tall cylindrical container with a lid that had a small loop handle on top. This I had glazed in a soft grey-blue that was slightly mottled in effect, even allowing hints of light green here and there. I had engraved the letter “R” in this piece because I had made it as a gift for my mother. It sits upon my hearth today.
I made several other pieces over the course of the six-week class. I gave them as gifts to my family members for Christmas. But the class finished all too quickly and nothing more was offered. I researched several other adult schools but found no more pottery classes. I felt as though I had eaten an appetizer and was still hungry for more – lots more.
Years went by and I moved back to Italy and life took a totally different turn. I remarried and started a second family at age forty and got a little lost in child rearing and home making. Years passed, other activities filled my life and I forgot about pottery until recently the hunt for a gift for a friend took me to a small art gallery and there was the sign: Pottery Class – any level, come and have fun.
I signed up in a heart beat and two weeks ago went to my first evening of working the clay again. It was as though I had never stopped touching this marvelous material. Clay is so malleable, so soft, so giving and forgiving. If something doesn’t go quite the way you expect, you just wet it down and start over. My heart was singing and I shaped and designed and created until my joy was on overload!
We used three different techniques and created three different bowls. Each one was very unique in shape and finished design. One was very smooth on the exterior but we cut out flower and leaf pieces and put them on rather like an appliqué. On another we engraved whatever pattern we desired. On the third one, which was very open and shallow, we created a textured finish on the top side and left it smooth underneath.
Tonight we went back to glaze our pieces. So many colors and finishes to choose from! I made each one different, but somehow either the color mauve or eggplant seemed to make its way somewhere onto each piece. My soul was very happy by the end of the evening. Now I just have to be patient. Our teacher will fire our pieces in the kiln tomorrow and they will be ready for pick-up on Saturday.
This was just a two-evening class. But before I left I spoke with the teacher. More classes are coming up and she is hoping to offer them on a regular basis. Thank you God, I need this kind of soul food. My creative muse needs nurturing on a regular basis.