Winter: Snow Dogs

Check out this Malamute pup playing in the snow for the first time. Guaranteed to make you happy. How many things can you say
that about?

Can you spot the Malamute? Flawless blending in.

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

A Walk in the Park: Fall

Dr. Henry V. Borst Park

Here's a shot from the early Fall that I wanted to post, because looking at it reminds me to take a walk outside whenever I feel stressed, or tired, or frazzled, or down. A nice walk in brisk, cool air always makes me feel better, health and weather permitting. Go for it.

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

Hudson Valley: Snow Day

Winter Wonderland

Free

For Madiba.

Little Red Birdhouse

The Little Red Birdhouse that could.

Now that the leaves have dropped, I can see the bone structure of certain things better: trees, houses, and little red birdhouses. I love that my neighbors share my penchant for Our Mother Mary, fun dog statues, and as many charming birdhouses as they can sometimes cram onto branches, or perch helpfully atop other structures.  
We so love animals here!

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

 

Nature: Winter Flowers

Black sunflowers in winter.

Sunflowers that have lost their bloom have a beauty of their own, set against a bright and chilly crisp winter sky. We often hear how depressing and "dead" our climate seems to outsiders, but it is a full-on sensory experience: there's birds chirping loudly and calling out, chasing away crows, flying overhead from tree to tree, and squirrels that play, and rabbits that hop about, collecting acorns fallen to the ground and bright red berries that remain on the vine. Pines give off their strong scent on cold days that smell like "snow" and woodsmoke from fireplaces, something I can't explain to you if you've never experienced it fully. There's plenty to see, if you open your mind.

Wintertime: Black Hole Sun

A dark winter sun.

There's this bruised, yellow sky in winter that holds a dark sun hidden behind the clouds, creating long, dark, stretching shadows everywhere the weak light meets the earth. That kind of spooky weather makes a fun atmosphere for us here in the Hudson Valley. Oftentimes, I don't need a horror movie with a fog machine. I just take a walk outside.

A hidden winter sun.

Cottages: Halloweentown in Wintertime

Enter at your own risk.

I love scary old houses, especially the kind you find in small Hudson Valley towns that were settled many, many moons ago. There was a day last week that reminded me of the song "Black Hole Sun": the far away star seems to spin wildly around a dark cloud sky, like something out of a witches fable that farmers told wayward children for centuries, huddled around a fireplace in the kitchen, as the snow swirled outside, and the barn door rattled in its' hinges with every strong gust of chilly wind. Yeah. Like that.

Type: Time/Travel

Titanic Sans Serif: big, clean, eye-catching, well-spaced for easy reading.

I saw the bulk of this monster special one night streaming video online, because the title caught my eye. I thought it was another gloriously bad SyFy monster movie of the week. Even better, we go back in time millions of years, when actual living monsters roamed the earth. It's got plenty of wacky humans though, if you desire that same level of human engagement typically present in the modern day scifi flick. Here's a tip: poorly dressed scientists hunting snakes in the wild. 'Nuff said. Check it out. It's gross and scary and awesome.
http://www.smithsonianchannel.com/sc/web/full-episodes/titles/16708/titanoboa-monster-snake

For the armchair traveler: "Come on in and take a look."

The next excellent type sample came through the mail, in the form of a travel catalog. It's a simple but extremely effective form of visual communication; a seemingly average piece of printed information that masks an underlying intellectualism that's quite keen and very sophisticated. It's warm, inviting, and friendly, asking a timeless question to its' audience: "If you could go anywhere in the world right now, where would that be?" The expectation is thus: some practice winter flight, a panic brought on by the cold and the snow, indicative of someone who is at odds with themselves and their locale. Many will see the high price tags and be satisfied with a cheaper (and easier) form of travel that's available to the armchair traveler; a wishing and hoping that's a pleasant form of dreaming not needing actualization to have a lot of value to the viewer. Still others, would-be adventurers and wealthy donating alumni surely, want "in" immediately, for their future. What kind of trekker are you? Think on it, and dream.

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

Street Art: The Sewer Monster

It crawled out, from within.

I found this particular nightmare walking back from a real estate excursion around town. Whoever thought to pair a Cthulhu-type octopus creature with the faceless body of a businessman in suit and tie is one twisted monkey, and my type of freak. We know monsters lurk in more places than the dank depths of a city's bowels. Sometimes, they even live and walk among us, perhaps secure in their anonymity, but no less evil because of their every day banality.  
Who is it that walks among you?

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

Thanks

I was 19 years old the first time I made an entire Thanksgiving dinner by myself. I came home from college to a note on the kitchen table from my mom. She left town quickly, going on vacation to Florida with her then-boyfriend, our widowed next door neighbor that we, her kids, loathed for many good reasons, and his wild teenage daughter. Great. Now what? My middle brother was distraught when he came home from his upstate New York school. He's someone who enjoys comforts, rituals, stability, and routines. What about Thanksgiving? 
He asked me, tears in his eyes from shock, growing more emotional. Are we not going to have a holiday now?! He's a lovely, sensitive boy, and he was struggling with being away at school, while I thrived under my own domain, because I'd already had an enormous amount of life experience and responsibilities for such a young girl. I felt terrible. Well, I said to him, let me call Grandma and Grandpa, and see what they think. My grandparents lived within ten minutes of us, and they often served as surrogate parents in the absences of my mother and father. My father had left the area years ago for points out west, establishing a business and another family, so he was almost completely out of reach of us, in that time before cell phones, computers, emails, and the Internet. 

When I reached my grandparents on the phone, they were taken aback. My mother had left town without telling them either, typical for someone with her issues. It was a cowardly thing to do, but not unlike her to leave such a huge parental burden on my shoulders. My grandparents weren't much help, either. At that point they stopped hosting big dinners with a lot of cooking because they were elderly (like they had warned us they would do for many years, as part of their retirement), and they no longer had the energy for such large family affairs. I took a deep breath. OK, I said to them over the phone, I'll do it. I'll make Thanksgiving dinner. After all, I reasoned to myself, I'd made gravy with my grandmother on Thanksgiving before as a little girl, and she'd be with me in my mother's kitchen to give me moral support. Vegetables were easy, they would bring dessert, so I just had to manage the bird and the side dishes on my own.

And so I did it. I went to the store and bought everything I knew I'd need. I smoothed the nice white linen table cloth over the dining room table, took out the good china from the wooden sideboard, polished the fine silver like I'd done countless times in my youth, and washed the crystal glasses that I took out of the glass case where the special occasion tableware was kept. I woke up early the next day, put on one of my mother's aprons, got the heavy stuffed turkey in the oven, sewing the bird shut just like I'd seen it done before, saving the giblets in the sink like my grandfather taught me to do for soup and gravy, and I then made an entire dinner by myself. My grandparents drove over to the house, and I was there to greet them at the front door to usher in the holiday with them. I took their coats and hung them up in the hall closet, just like my parents used to do with guests. I remember feeling grown up, helpful, competent, and very much in command of the day's events. We went into the kitchen. We opened some wine, and my brother and grandfather drank beer. I put all the food on the table as they sat down. When the last dish hit the table, I breathed a sigh of relief, pulling my chair up to the table, placing the linen napkin on my lap. My grandfather said "Grace" at the head of the table. Afterwards, I raised my glass in toast to my grandmother, grandfather, and brother, smiling widely at each of them as we clinked glasses. 

I thought about that time again last weekend at the grocery store, having dragged myself there from my sick bed because I didn't have any food to eat. The cashier was deep in conversation with the lady in line before me about typical holiday family drama stuff, of a kind so common to this area and particular to this culture, that when she was done with her groceries, I stepped seamlessly into the conversation, picking right up where my neighbor left off. The clerk couldn't understand why her sister wouldn't host, but OK, why not have it at her house? What about her mother's house? She has plenty of room! We laughed exasperatedly over our predicaments, as I told her my teenage tale of woe. She chuckled ruefully about it, saying tiredly to me, as we bagged my groceries: "All I want to do is put up my feet, have a beer, and order pizza." Oh, yeah, that sounds good. I sighed as I shouldered the heavy bag for my walk back. "Me, too", I said, and then I hoped we would both get our holiday wishes this year. It looks like I will, because this little mommy desperately needs her rest, if only for one day. Thanks.

On the Mend

$.99 Halloween candy.

The first cold of the season I catch comes right on the heel of fall allergies. It's a long bout initially, but after that bad brush up, I tend to be set for the rest of the winter, minus a cold here and there. So, what did I do? I read some, but I find I lack the proper attention span when I'm really down and out for the count. Thanks to a WiFi connect, I used my iPhone to surf while flat on my back for a few weeks. It was a fruitful journey. 

The Nature Conservancy's magazine.

I caught up with Game of Thrones and some of True Blood, played video games (won a belt in Bejeweled Blitz!), searched online for a new place to live, took breaks to eat and occasionally shower, going out only to get groceries, leftover Halloween candy, and new fuzzy slippers, and take a look at an apartment that didn't pan out. In the meantime, my hair grew and grew, like something out of a fable.

Mother of All Dragons.

Then, last weekend, I broke with my health rules to drink some very strong caffeinated green tea, so I could stay up and watch the fights for UFC 167. It was a wild ride, just like my illnesses tend to be: not often, but violent, and going the distance. I'm still working my way back to a 100%. Stay tuned.

Hudson Valley: Store Signs

....unless you're a Mixed Martial Artist.

I love store signs, especially the antiques, the more retro, the better: neon ones, hand drawn ones, and those tall peeling paint signs from the last century. There's an abundance of great store fronts in my town. Have a look for yourself.

Peckman's Wines & Liquors.

Sneaking down the alley...

A small town sign: the homegrown militia.

Type, glorious, type, of all shapes, colors, and sizes.

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

Humor: Bear Hugs

Hi there. Just hanging out.

I walk by a child's day care center most days, with its' lovely complex of old farm houses on a wide stretch of land. In the afternoon, you can hear the cheerful sound of children playing in the big back yard; it always makes me happy to hear their sport. This morning when I walked by, the bear was hanging out again, this time on the roof of a car. I wonder what child he belongs to, or if he's simply a mascot for the house, the toy that gets passed around to whichever child is most in need of a big bear hug that day. You know the feeling.

Hello again. Just doing my job.

Need a good laugh today? Same. 

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

Type: Ye Olde Printers' Shop

Foundry type.

Years ago, printers set type by hand, using complicated blueprints from designers as a guide. It seems like something from the 18th century now, because that's how fast technology moved has forward, but when I first became an apprentice in publishing, I still did some mechanicals (the schemata for books that go the printer: http://astoundingartifacts.blogspot.com/2011/03/original-science-fiction-artwork-pt-4.html) by hand. We used "stat cameras" (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stat_camera) that made "repro", terms from graphic arts from a time gone by the was only in the 90s. Some people are nostalgic for hand set type, but rest assured, it was a long, slow, tedious, repetitive process best suited for temperaments that didn't change quickly. I wouldn't design today if I had to do it.

Plates for printing.

We separated into cover designers and interior designers for books because the rapid progress sorted out brains into those who could absorb computers well and those would couldn't, and most of the time it became the difference between the flash of art on the cover that drew in buyers in 3-5 seconds (which is how fast we take in information visually), and those we preferred the pace of turning a page slowly one by one. Oh, I know crossovers who can do both (yes, I can), but for me, this type of nostalgia has become about those who can merge left and right brain tasks, with the stereotypical "artist" or "designer" who thought our work was really about one task, and one task only, in the dust. For masters, it never really was. Welcome to the new world, global thinkers. Stretch out and grow (and think), because this is our time to shine (once again). 

Read it and weep....for joy:

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

Faith: All Saints Day

The New Rules. Familiarize yourself!

The other day I went for a follow up at a hospital here in the Hudson Valley called Good Samaritan, across the street from The Tagaste Monastery (http://mariedoucette.blogspot.com/2013/10/sacred-spaces-tagaste-monastery.html). The link between my vocation and my health care was not lost on me as I stood by the chapel, waiting for the breast care center to open. They held a free event to heighten awareness about breast cancer that I attended, with free mammos, breast exams, and sonograms for women who are under insured or uninsured, as well as applications for free health insurance under Obamacare. 

Faithfully Healing the Earth.

As I stood there waiting, I saw a brochure next to the chapel. It was about the new mission focus for Franciscans. Of course it is. I don't have happy coincidences or lucky accidents like most folks you know. For me, every fortune cookie and seemingly trivial event has import and meaning, and that's just the way it is for me. This little two-sided  pamphlet demarcated the new codifications for Catholics, which is a green mission that includes taking care of our environment and the planet, as part of God's inheritance for us. Like so much of my life, everything just kinda falls into place. That's the power of faith, and that's my message for you today on this All Saints Day. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/All_Saints%27_Day)

Have a closer look for yourself:

http://www.chausa.org/environment/climate-change.

http://catholicclimatecovenant.org/.

Celebrating our good green earth. They have the right idea!

Want to get started on the right path? Here's some inspiration:

http://www.pinterest.com/mariedoucette/recycle-and-repurpose/

 

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/