Small Town America: Halloweentown

A total home reno. Oh, the horror. Hi, Pete!

I live in an Irish town, and let me clarify once again: not "Irish-American", but an actual hamlet that's predominantly 1st generation "off the boat", as they used to say, though now it's straight off the flight at JFK to Pearl River to the massive supermarket, with an Irish Foods section that's mostly tea, canned beans, and biscuits. I know, because I've seen the jet lagged Paddy wandering the massive store aisles with the same look of shell shock that I have when confronted with American excess. I also get it when I travel, though it's going across the pond in the other direction, with more crystal and wool sweater shopping involved. We have a shop for that here in town, too.

Wonder Woman!

There's been a recent interest in the spooky and supernatural in pop culture, what with teenage vampires and Sleepy Hollows that go bump in the night. Truthfully, the Hudson Valley has always been perfect for Halloween, because this is where the very traditions we celebrate as Americans began. Happy Samhain, Celts.

Yeah! I'm Batman, and you're SuperGirl!

Welcome to Halloweentown:

http://www.pinterest.com/mariedoucette/halloweentown/.

Food: Dining Out

Stepping up to the plate.

I grew up eating at home, usually cooking my own food, because that's the cheapest, healthiest way to go. I also come from a big family, and I had a lengthy love life, so I didn't eat alone until recently, when I became completely single. It was fun for me to cook whatever I want, whenever I wanted, without taking into account some one's diet or picky food preferences. I embarked on a culinary freedom I never knew before, and I was in my late 30s. Of course, I already knew my soul food was Italian American, because that's what I cook the most at home, but this exciting time period has allowed me to add as many spices as I want, in any combination, and to experiment however I see fit. Occasionally though, I find myself wanting to taste another person's food, and for the first time in my life, in my 40s, I actually began dining alone at restaurants. I thought it'd be weird, like a spotlight was on me or something, but it wasn't. 

Cozy dining room.

I know good food really well, so once again, I can indulge myself in this knowledge, drinking it in fully without distractions, because I typically have to order for the table, making recommendations or translations, explaining menu items to those who are less informed, or lack a seasoned palate. I did lots of other firsts solo, too: I went to the movies and ate all the popcorn (once again, because I could). I find my own company enjoyable, as I always did when I was at home alone or working in the studio. It has become another part of my artistic life; yet more chances I have to savor the aesthetics I have worked so hard to learn and refine. It's great to be able to walk into a bar or a restaurant in my hometown and not be afraid just because I'm a woman alone. In truth, I'm really not alone (you're there with me, readers); I'm just sitting by myself. I can enjoy the service even more by really focusing on every bite and sip that I take. That's the stuff life is made of. Savor it.

 

http://www.pinterest.com/mariedoucette/food/

Hudson Valley: The Fall Edition

Leafy overhang on road.

The colors of autumn.

Leafy sidewalk.

Leaf filled street.

Fallen leaf on sidewalk.

Leaf progression of colors.

Enjoy the sights, smells, and sounds of these late autumn days: 

http://www.pinterest.com/mariedoucette/nature/.

Birdhouses: Mystery Chair

Going to the birds.

I found the juxtaposition of an empty folding chair and a tall birdhouse sitting next to each other in a front yard rather odd, and a little unsettling. There was a stillness about the scene that made it eerie, like some crime had been committed. I guess we'll never know how it came to be. It'll remain one of life's little mysteries, a charming and eccentric part of life in the Hudson Valley. 

What's strange and surreal where you live?

A quirky bit of local color that's for the birds:

http://www.pinterest.com/mariedoucette/birdhouses-and-treehouses/.

Home: Houseplants

Me lucky charms.

You really oughta be down with the green thumb, because indoor plants are healthy all the way around. They look great, they create oxygen, and they make a space feel better. It's basic Feng Shui (http://www.amazon.com/Feng-Shui-Health-Accelerate-Recovery/dp/0609806610/ref=pd_sim_b_12), so get with it already, will you?  

A spot o' the green will do you a world of good.

Welcome to the jungle.

Home is where the heart is:

http://www.pinterest.com/mariedoucette/home/.

Cottages: The Fall Edition

Fall colors, afternoon light.

Made for autumn images of the quaint, quiet life, in the Hudson Valley. 
http://www.pinterest.com/mariedoucette/cottages/ 

Blue house, yellow tree.

Afternoon light, tall pines.

Picket fence, autumnal leaves.

Old Cars

Old Chevy truck.

I'm not a big car nut by any means, but there's one type of vehicle that always makes me stop, and that's a classic car. There's something about the lines I respond to. And it's not just cars; this old truck was the coolest thing I've seen in awhile. I'd love to tool around town in this thing. It says whoever drives it is down. 

Made for truckin'.

Like, "I'm a farmer who's been around since the early 60s, when there was nothing but corn fields around here, sonny. You're a newcomer." How much fun would it be to see a drive-in with this here thing? A rootin tootin' kind of fun, kiddo. I'd love to pile up some pumpkins and hay in the back, and I don't even have a farm.

Check out my grill front.

The hood was open the day before, sitting in the parking lot of a local garage, so I got a good look at the works. There's a long, narrow gas tank in the front, and the original fan (rusted out, of course) sits right behind the grill to cool the engine off. The interior was tight, too: still the same upholstery on the seats, with the all the old-fashioned knobs intact. I know it's not practical to have an old timer like this in the driveway, but compared to the generic Corolla's and Hyundai's of the world, there's just nothing funkier than a joint that looks like this. '69 Mustang? I'm there. That's my year.

I'm a road trip kind of trekker. You?

http://www.pinterest.com/mariedoucette/travel/ 

Mushrooms

Speckled specimen.

I've always loved mushrooms and their shapes. They bring to mind fantastical fairy tales about leprechauns, those whimsical shapes that capture the artistic mind with a naturalist bent. I had a yellow polka dotted, painted wood cutout of a mushroom on my wall as a kid, decor that was sought to match the bright walls. I also loved the scene from Fantasia with the dancing oriental mushrooms. What kid didn't? The very first piece of art I did at Oneonta State (a SUNY school, enough said) was an Alice in Wonderland piece of psychedelia with a giant 'shroom that I put on our front door. It went with the giant tie dye tapestry we bought for about $15 (we haggled with the hippie who went door to door) that hung from the ceiling. We also took a tossed couch by the side of the dorm with no legs, put it on top of a tipped over bookcase, and covered it with a black and white cowhide I bought at a farm goods store in West Texas.

Me and my best friend were the first people to get "written up" (cited for partying) on campus, in the very same dorm her older brother was an R.A., and we're chicks, so overnight we became infamous. Within a few days, the sorority girls from Long Island, in their matching Champion sweats, slouchy socks, and top knot ponytails, wrote nasty remarks about stoners on the drawing, and then someone jacked it. In retaliation, we spray painted cracks about them in hairspray on the mirrors in the common bathroom (our commentary about their dependency on beauty products and their cliched 80s hairdos), and then lit them on fire so they would be visible in burnt scorch marks, a brilliant piece of impromptu performance art that was angry, hilarious, and true, which was our punk ethos at the time. We made the scene, and the best guys around wanted to hang out and party with us, which made us even bigger targets, but by then, we'd already surpassed the dorm in hijinks, so we were golden. It kicked off one of the best, funnest, fruitful, and most stable parts of my life, but more about that in the future. Suffice to say, whenever I see a cute patch of them, I still think the same thoughts: they're funny, sweet, cheerful, happy and also edible, but please don't go foraging without an expert. The difference between an edible one, a trip to Mars, or a slow, agonizingly painful death can be a minute one, so don't do it. If you're interested in mycology like I am, check out some resources on the subject, like this one: http://www.amazon.com/The-Pocket-Guide-Wild-Mushrooms/dp/1620877317/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1382549928&sr=8-2&keywords=Skyhorse+mushrooms.

Mama and baby 'shroom.

There's also a bunch of nature hikes with guides you can take in the area New Yorkers, so have at it you freaks, and I mean that in the best, warmest way possible: http://www.wildmanstevebrill.com/.

Live life, and prosper.

http://www.pinterest.com/mariedoucette/nature/. 

Hudson Valley: Old Stone Walls

Cornerstone.

I've always loved the old stone walls scattered around Rockland. 
Some are stranded in the middle of the woods like something out of a 
fairy tale, to be happened upon in the middle of a hike as remnants of an old homestead, and others are still part of the landscape, serving their original purpose by demarcating property lines. 

Stone remnants.

They tie us back to our old farm roots, those of the Dutch, Irish, English, and Huguenot woodsmen settlers, frontiersmen, and farmers who created the first US nation. Plus, I just think they look better than other types of fences. They fit this landscape in a way that's right for this rocky land, a seamless blend of nature and design.

Stone wall and picket fence.

Cottage life: http://www.pinterest.com/mariedoucette/cottages/.

Street Art: Vinny on Fire

From the street to someones wall.

I walked by this sign at the local CVS a few weeks ago, looking all nicely decorated. This week? It's gone. Man, that's some hot street art. Either that, or the fellas I saw doing work to the front of the building had it removed. I hope it's hanging on a local wall somewhere, because it's too cool to be destroyed. That's the power of art.

Git some:  

http://www.pinterest.com/mariedoucette/street-art-sacred-spaces/

Around the Way: New Jersey Diners

Cocktails and eats, from way back when.

The only really late night game in our town was either White Castle, or quietly stumbling around your parents kitchen in a quest for drunk food. Jersey, a scant ten minutes away by car, had it so much better: the all-night diner. And the great thing about diners is, the menu is long (for any type of craving) and the food from most places is actually really, really good. Most of the family joints were Greek owned and operated, so you could count on a certain type of quality.

Passing by this empty building one afternoon on a bus back from the city, I felt a nostalgic sadness for a bygone late night life that I never had in Rockland. I bet it hit locals hard to see their go-to joint close down. I am happy to see the Hudson Valley emerge as a happening fine dining kind of place, because with the kind of produce we have here, it's the perfect marriage of locale matched with interest. Enjoy!

Food, glorious food: 

http://www.pinterest.com/mariedoucette/food/. 

Type: Book Design

A little ramble.

So much of my design life has been the domain of books, that I forget it as a genre of typography sometimes. I'm mostly an image-based designer, and they typically send folks like us to the art department to design the covers, which are usually photographic or illustrative in nature. I began my apprenticeship as a production assistant to learn the ropes, and in the process of doing so, I learned what each and every department does, because that was my job, and that's exactly what my boss (and first professional mentor) wanted, because we discussed it at my hiring. 

Pieces of string.

I spent my time at night teaching myself the requisite software that I did not learn to design with at school. I had one extremely basic computer class for illustration, a touch of Photoshop onscreen in a photo journalism class, and that was it. In fact, we started a petition for desktop publishing classes that so threatened the old guard teachers in the ivory tower, my mentor there told me some profs put us on a blacklist. None of them are working art directors or designers today ;)

BAM!

One of the first designers I met at St. Martin's Press many moons ago is the incredible Judy Abbate. She worked in the Design department as an interior designer. In books, that doesn't mean carpets and drapes; that means the designers who estimate the manuscript's page count, design the style guides and chapter headings, and work with the typesetters. It's an art of its' own. Fortunately for me, Judy's also an illustrator, and she knew the big distance that existed between my degree and the working world. She gave me use of her work computer for me to learn on after hours at night, when the other designers left for the day, so I did. I bought myself a set of Peachpit Press books (http://www.peachpit.com/), and I taught myself the reigning creative suite trilogy of the times, QuarkXpress, Illustrator, and Photoshop.

Kara Walker.

Because of my imaging skills as a photo minor in school (I was a teaching assistant and darkroom technician for b&w photography), I went upstairs to the Art department, to learn about book cover design. That's where types like us go because we have the same skills as the freelancers we hire, so it's essential we speak their language. My first two interviews were with photographers, both women of world renown; Rosalind Solomon and Annie Lebowitz, and both were for darkroom assistants. I didn't get those jobs, because I had a portfolio with a defined style and my own P.O.V., but I did get my third interview in publishing. A friend of a friend from high school worked in PR at SMP. He walked me to meet my first boss after I went through HR, and said "Hire her!". I was the only person in my graduating class with a job at our commencement ceremony, because I graduated mid-session before my classmates, because I tore through my studio requirements after leaving my SUNY school so I could leave school to work. I worked three jobs while at RISD (the third was making pizza), and my father only paid for a year and a half worth of schooling for our educations, which was a phenomenal bargain for a guy with four kids. There was one scholarship available from Hallmark Cards for Illustration Majors at the time (for about $1000/semester), and my married friend who'd already worked as a graphic designer prior to RISD got it.

Q&A a day.

It's funny, but after my springtime trip to MoMa, I found myself more excited in the bookstore than I did with the work on the walls, yet another indication to me of the solidity of my abilities, how deeply rooted they are to who I am. Books are not just what I "do" for a living, they are parts of me: I read, I write, I illustrate, I photograph, I design, I publish, I edit, and I'm hungry for more (nod to the Tony Bourdain "No Reservations" intro). It's our vocation. Looking back, I see I captured one of Judy's books on the tables at the NY Public Library, Q&A a day, and as always with her work, it stood out for perfectly balanced classicism that's never dull. That's the mastery of it, and that's what keeps us coming back for more. Stay strong, Judy. This one's for you: http://www.youcaring.com/medical-fundraiser/big-surgery-for-my-love/71246.

By Judith Stagnito Abbate.

Tunnel of Light in the Darkness

Tunnel of Vines.

Walkway to heaven (or hell).

Revisiting old sites, and taking in some new ones. The top photo comes from a tangle of overgrown bushes I pass most every day. I've seen three different types of road kill by the side of the road (groundhog, beaver, and most horribly, a kitten) next to this stand of woods. Heartbreaking, and still some of the untamed wild. I wish I could build an elevated walkway for critters, like they do for koalas and kangaroos that migrate across highways in Australia.

The bottom pic is total nostalgia. I went to a school called Chestnut Grove that doesn't exist anymore, because the kids grew up and moved away. Now it's the seat for a county board, so it still gets some use, but there's nothing eerier than empty, silent playgrounds. 
It started out as one really cool looking old stone building (more on that later), then grew to an addition that's a rather standard box. Many years of my childhood were spent not knowing how my days would go: good or bad, I would never be able to determine if I would be running in fear from violence, or breathing a sigh of relief walking down this walkway to and from school. Isnt' that just like life?

Farming Since 1712

Revolutionary times, and the seasonal harvest.

I missed the seasons out west, where the semi-arid lands jump from summer to winter, briskly stepping over the seasons of spring and fall. There's a verdant, fertile lushness to our river valley, and it's no surprise that early settlers took here well, after a few very dramatic fits and starts. Imagine Ireland and England with some of its' original woods and forests still intact. Our forefathers knew this well, and stayed on. Family farming is one of the roughest, hardest types of work on the planet, and yet, like our scrappy, hard fighting ancestors, some of them have endured the test of time. Go see for yourself.

http://www.orchardsofconcklin.com/ 

http://www.orchardsofconcklin.com/2010/04/orchards-of-concklin.html?m=1

Seasons: Fall Foliage

Longer shadows, slanting sun.

Welcome to my favorite part of the year. Soak up today in all it's glory, New Yorkers. This is the kind of day we make art about; the slant of the autumn sun and its final warm rays, with a cool hint of winter to come.  What's your favorite time of the year?

Red, yellow, orange, and green.

Red bush.

Garden in autumn.

The apple tree.

I got your nature right here:  
http://www.pinterest.com/mariedoucette/nature/. 

 

Nature: Look at the Ducks! Where's the rabbit?

This way North.

I happened upon a darling cluster of Canadian geese nonchalantly migrating through the parking lot of a local hospital. Don't mind me. I'm just passing through, too. So I snapped their pic. Tourists!

Bunny Camo.

In the Springtime, there was a cluster of three very small and adorable baby bunnies, but now I only see one regularly, every evening before the sun sets. He grazes the same patch of lawn at dusk, and darts right into the dirt patch whenever I come too close, or a crow caws loudly overhead. Smart bunbun. He's a perfect example of survival of the fittest. He's somewhat accepted me cooing at him, and even turns my way curiously when I make the sound. I suspect Mother Nature has advised the local animals that the elderly community they thrive in is just about the safest bet around; slower humans (and weaker predators) could not be found elsewhere in the county, thus making it an animal paradise of sorts in their retirement community. No "pot au feu avec des lapins" for this Canadian Thanksgiving. Bon weekend!

http://www.pinterest.com/mariedoucette/nature/ 

Art: MoMa, Oldenburg, and Other Works

Did you like Mickey Mouse as a kid? OK, I'll ruin that for you.

I was cleaning off my iPhone to make room for the new iOS update, when I found a bunch of old pics from a trip to MoMa (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Museum_of_Modern_Art), back in the Spring. I'd gone to see the infamous painting "The Scream", by Edward Munch (http://mariedoucette.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-scream.html). It sucked. So did this big weird Mickey Mouse flag (totally creepy) and an installation piece by Claes Oldenburg (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Claes_Oldenburg. Useless, and so much time and money spent on it! I'm no snob, and I have a wide range of artistic tastes, but I'll admit I have a bias towards beauty. That's the nature girl in me.

For weird stuff, I'm usually looking for a sense of humor, but all I found in the big dumb Mickey Mouse head installation that I walked through were a bunch of sandwiches made out of clay and stuff, painstakingly recreated for God Knows What, when a real sandwich would have made me so much happier. Not big on the whole tongue-in-cheek hipster rich kid Pop Art scene. I don't get it. Why blow your time and money on this?!

Barbara Kruger and The American Identity. Who the @$ck are you?!

Other works were as powerful as the first time I discovered them, like designer/artist Barbara Kruger (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Barbara_Kruger#Career_in_magazine_design), and her graphic works that take a searing bite out of American Commercialism. Now that's irony I understand because, you know, it actually says something meaningful.

Riffing off type. Cool! I dig it.

Years ago, I did a freelance stint for a museum, and it gave me a keen appreciation for exhibition graphics. The coolest shots I got were abstractions based on wall graphics for various shows. And that's why I design books, I guess.

Oldenburg exhibit wall graphics.

What jazzes you? 

Take and look and see: http://www.pinterest.com/mariedoucette/art/.