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/.

Children's Books: This Girl Isn't Just a Girl

A girl, but not just any girl.

I often find interesting things on the street, mostly because I'm always looking at the world around me, and so I make great finds. I passed by a church that has an elementary school, and I noticed that one young student must have had one heck of a good time with this book. 

BOO! Did I scare you?

Well-loved books, like beloved children's toys, come apart with heavy use, and this darling book about a little girl witch was no exception. As much as I make books to last (as part of my job), I also recognize them for what they are; precious objects that are also made for human use, especially by our littlest ones, who need them the most to learn. Besides, this girl loved finding it among the autumn leaves. 

It just seemed right.

No problem! I got it covered.

Mad about books?

http://www.pinterest.com/mariedoucette/reading-writing-books/

Fall, and school reading.

Travel: Poetry in Motion

Wait. What the heck does that say?

It's about ripping off tourists. Neat!

On a recent trip to and from the city, I found myself sitting behind a gentlemen with a language book. I couldn't help but read over his shoulder because it was printed in very large print, a book designed for the elderly, which he clearly is. 

The funniest parts were the language lessons themselves, translations of certain key phrases from English to Spanish, like "Does the tourist need a map?", or "I just sold a watch to that tourist." and "Does the tourist need a watch?" Definitely not a native New Yorker. Now I know the next time I visit Old Mexico, just what phrases I need to brush up on....and not to wear a watch. You know, just a case a tourist needs one, too.

South of the Border, yo.

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

Toys: Baby BOO's!

Boo! For Halloween!

Just in time for Halloween, comes the worlds' cutest dog in an adorable small size, with different types of hoodies to match his every mood. 
I took one out and pulled the blue hood on his tiny little furry head myself...and then I cooed at it like it was a baby. 

This particular basket full of Boos caught my eye in the Port Authority bus terminal. The bookstore manager said everyone stops to look at him in the store window, and I know why. He's the world's cutest dog! That's marketing pull. Boo to you!

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

 

Faith: Horray!

 

When I was a kid, I thought this cartoon was about Catholicism, because I thought the people in yellow hooded robes were friars in habit. It seems funny to me now, but that's how I absorbed one of the most important early lessons we have; to be a fan of nature, to enjoy our natural resources as part of the miracle of creation, and to welcome dramatic events and happenings as part of the mystery of our faith. It made me happy to see brothers cheering the falls, happy to be witnesses to such a great spectacle. Yellow was also my favorite color. I was allowed to pick a paint color for my room as a kid, when it needed repainting, and this was close to the color I chose. When my mom asked me why I picked such a bright color, I said, "Because yellow is cheerful. It's bright and sunny. Like the sun."

It's certainly reflects how I feel about nature: a devoted fan of flora and fauna, and the beauty that's all around us. I don't remember the first time I went to Niagara Falls, and the second time I went (in winter), I was so sick that I forced myself through the experience, which seemed dramatically commercialized. The malls and the shopping centers surrounding Niagara seemed to almost overwhelm what was happening outside. I did buy an incredible pair of leather gloves from Canada, and that satisfied the Acadian part of me; seeing two sides of myself reconciled above one of nature's greatest forces, spanning across two countries. And that's how I now see this link between my childish perception and the reality of our practices - the perfect forging of two perspectives into one harmonious whole, which is exactly how it's supposed to be. Happy Monday to you!

http://www.ccr.org.uk/archive/gn0807/g11.htm.

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

Birdhouses: Indoor Decor

The little white birdhouse.

I bought this pretty little house years ago, when I took care of my bedridden mom, down for the count with a broken back. I had spent some of the money I got from a contractual buyout (http://mariedoucette.blogspot.com/2013/09/sunday-paper.html) to spend a month nursing her through yet another fall, the result of MS and her own inability to cope with the disease. She was depressed, angry, and prone to violent fits. My brothers had warned me over the phone that she had gone seriously downhill before I flew back East: a normally intensely neat women with daily cleaning rituals, her apartment started to become cluttered, dirty, and messy.

Years ago I discovered Feng Shui (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Feng_shui), and while I wasn't a mad devotee by any means, I bought a few books on the subject out of curiosity. Much of it is simply basic good design sense for any space: lots of light, green plants for color, oxygen, and good health, water features for relaxation, and mirrors to bounce around the light, to make small spaces feel bigger. The different centers of the eight-sided Bagua correspond to different areas of life; there's one corner for wealth, another for health, and so on (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bagua).

So, after nursing her physically and emotionally, I set about making her place warm and welcoming. First, I needed a lot of garbage bags. She had held onto papers that had the same year as my grandfather's death, which was never fully addressed in her mental health care routine successfully. I spent days going to her room to show her each and every piece of paper stuffed away into various nooks and crannies. She cursed me and fought me so viciously that finally, out of desperation and in exhaustion, I finally looked at her wearily and said "Look, honey, you can say whatever you want to me, but this process isn't going to stop. So do your worst. It won't change anything."

And like that, the spell was broken. I went to a crafts store soon after to begin bringing some cheer to her place. I created a little area of interest on top of a book case with a basket holding some fake ivy, and intertwining those branches, I stuck in these cheerful little birdhouses to add more interest. After I went back to Colorado, my mom thanked me for pulling her out of her downward spiral. She had gone to see a doctor who tested her for depression, and she had drawn a clock backwards, which is a positive sign of it. Her real recovery began, as so often happens when I am directly involved.

That time period taught me a lot about the power of beautifully decorated space, and how important design in the home is. It's where we spend most of our time. I hadn't really had a knack for interior design prior, because I never had the money or a place of my own to express myself, but once I came back to Brooklyn, my interest caught fire in earnest (http://mariedoucette.blogspot.com/2011/01/joys-of-winter-comforts-of-home.html). This year, moving back home for my own reasons, my mom turned to me on the couch, and asked me, "What is that there?" Only the white birdhouse remained from my time nurturing her through that period. I took the little birdhouse away, into the other room, and there it now lives.

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

Sacred Spaces: The Tagaste Monastery

The Tagaste Monastery, Suffern, NY.

It seemed like no surprise and also very surprising that across the street from the Good Samaritan Hospital is a monastery. I didn't know there was an order in Rockland County as a kid growing up in New City, and the sight of it made me really, really happy. What a blessed place of beauty we live in! Here's hoping that your views and vistas today bring you some peace. Amen.

Stone wall, Tagaste Monastery.

Moon through the trees, Suffern, NY

http://www.tagastemonastery.org/our_history.asp

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

Gardens: Secret Garden

Children's Garden, at the Good Samaritan Hospital.

Going to the doctor's is hard enough, but it's especially difficult for women and their children. On a recent trip to a local hospital for a free women's healthcare event that promoted breast cancer awareness, 

I saw this little garden out the window, and you know what? It made me feel better, like this was a place that cared about people. One of my favorite charities is Splashes of Hope (http://splashesofhope.org/), an organization that creates beautiful healing spaces, because as artists, they realize that an environment not designed for our senses is one that cuts out a huge part of our life. They give children spaces that make them feel more connected to the outside world by joyfully filling their senses. 

Leonard Nimoy, (SPOCK!) is very active for a hospital in California (http://www.leonardnimoy.de/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=1558:the-healing-arts-&catid=27:interviews&Itemid=14) that did just that: it created galleries out of empty wall space for their patients, so they could stroll down the hallways and look at the art. One women fighting cancer said it gave her a reason to live, because she wanted so badly to get better to go outside to look at a landscape like the one she passed by every day with her portable chemo IV drip in her arm. The greatest gift we can give one another is the gift of hope, a reason to go on living, because we know we're not alone.  

What do your gifts do for others?

http://www.pinterest.com/mariedoucette/gardens-and-green-walls/ 

Nature: Mystery Fruit

Mysterious fruit tree.

I walked past this weird tree several times this summer, and it intrigued me each time. I'd never seen something like it before. The fruit kinda looked like a chestnut, but the fuzzy texture threw me. WTF?! Finally, I had to go deep, and I picked one so I could kick it. No dice, because it didn't rupture open upon contact. OK, fine. I stepped on one, and it exploded like a ripe grape. Nice! Naturally, that led me to picking one so I could dissect it for further scientific experiments. Sorry, neighbor! 

What the....?! What is that?!

Me and my mom looked at one on the kitchen table, while I expounded on my theory: it was citrus, because it had a slight orange-y scent and a dimpled rind, though the peach fuzz stumped us both. I left it out for awhile (so I could get it open after it ripened), and then I put it on a bookshelf and forgot about it, until one morning I remembered that I wanted to cut it open. So I did. Aha! We looked at its' distinct sections, which made it definitely citrus, as did the seed shape. 
But what fucking kind? We didn't know. 

Aha! Getting closer to the answer....

I went to the library and looked it up on Google by typing in the words "citrus" and "fuzzy" and there it was: the freaky looking fruit tree. See for yourself, for great mysteries revealed: http://www.al.com/living/index.ssf/2012/06/that_twisty_thorny_plant_with.html. 
Even the name is cool.

I got your nature right here: 

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

Cottages: Daily Dose of Cute

Warmth and charm.

American Quaint.

Perfectly Adorable.

Right here: http://www.pinterest.com/mariedoucette/cottages/.

Street Art: Poetry

Conjunction Junction, what's your function?

I found a piece of paper on the sidewalk, grammar lessons from a child's notebook, and I thought it formed a poetry of its' own. 
Everyday magic is all around you.  Stop for a second look.

Dogs: Dog Statues

Notice the intent stare on this dog statue.

Devoted dog owners, like people who love to cook, are people who like to have a good time. We're wacky in a socially acceptable way. Walking around town, I noticed a lot of funny doggie statues, some oddly realistic, like their eyes follow you and stuff. I had an uncle who loved to go through garbage dumps for weird stuff that he would dump on our lawn when we weren't home. 

Bulldog with human bifocals.

It was great fun for me as a kid, because you never knew what you'd find when you pulled in the driveway. It could be a tree, or a tire planter, or a plastic statue. My mom is pretty serious about her "no plastic lawn ornaments rule" (or those racist jockeys statues, that's just wrong) so when I see wacky dog sculptures, it reminds me of him. I love beautifully decorated houses and lawns, but thrown in a good sense of humor, and I'm done.  

What could be more welcoming?

Terrier in the garden.

You're a weirdo, funny dog person. 

Be glad: http://www.pinterest.com/mariedoucette/dogs/.