a sampling of Cartier, for your viewing pleasure

I may be jumping the gun on springtime activities up here, but I did see a fully-bloomed daffodil in someone's yard today! A few weeks ago I noticed the bulbs had sprouted some leaves, and then worried about the huge snow that covered them all. Apparently, they are quite resilient.

So, I began clearing out space in my brand-new garden area, previously inhabited by some hay fever-inducing ornamental grasses (still seen at the front of the plot). After a few days of itchy skin and sneezing, all I had left for today was digging up the root balls to these monsters. The task was tougher than it should have been, as my shovel is left behind in Kansas, but a strong spade did the trick.

My plans for it include some essential vegetables and herbs. It's a small plot, but it sure beats the container gardening I've become accustomed to. I was forced to abandon the only other garden I've ever started (as a result of a move to another house), so I'm thoroughly excited for this one.

After cleaning up from a day of digging in the dirt, boyfriend K and I went downtown. There were two exhibits I had been looking forward to this winter: the Denver Museum of Nature & Science's Silk Road exhibit (last week's venture) and Brilliant: Carter in the 20th Century at the Denver Art Museum, which we were able to see only because it was extended for one more week. Yay!

The lighting makes all the difference in exhibits like these, and the presentation in this exhibit was beautiful. There were pieces from the Gilded Age, toned-down Depression Era jewelry, jewelry from famous classic movie stars and royalty, clocks and accessories from India, China, & Egypt, and one area showing the process in making the jewelry-- all the tools to cut and set the stones.

I think these jewels speak for themselves.

the one with the most jewels, commissioned by an Indian king

classic Cartier

with turquoise, my favorite

an aquamarine tiara, my birthstone (it's birthday month!)

a dolphin

animation

I've been neglecting this blog for quite some time, so it's high time for an update! I'm just taking a break from wood carving to write this, before I sit down to a meal of okonomiyaki, currently in preparation by my wonderful boyfriend. Today has been a very relaxing day off from work with me finishing up another art project this morning, then a trip to Ikea this afternoon, and some Leo Kottke listening thrown in to accompany the evening activities.

This past week I was given a ticket through work to see the animated film Boxtrolls. I was in the mood for something lighthearted, so I went. In addition to the film viewing, there was a presentation by someone from the animation company. I had no idea what I was in for, but I came out of there amazed at the process. Boxtrolls is stop-motion animated, like what we usually associate with claymation, but for this film they used actual puppets!

Inside each puppet is an armature that is moved ever so slightly for each frame. We got to try out moving this puppet frame, made from metal and some sort of moldable material. It takes 24 frames for each second of film. To achieve that, 55,000 different puppet faces were used for filming to create the different expressions and these faces were all printed by 3D printer. In the first film this company created, Coraline, they had only a black & white printer (remember those days?), so they had to hand paint all the faces. Even with the color printer, it is a slow-going process. They actually have an employee in charge of cataloging all the faces. No wonder production time for this current film was 10 years!

(Yes, those are actually physical puppets, where I would have thought them to just be computer animated. )

After the presentation, and all during the showing of the film, I was constantly trying to figure out how they created the scenes and the character movements-- everything. What a fascinating experience.

Between traveling this summer and not having a bicycle in working condition, it had been three months since I had been on my bike, but I'm back in the saddle!

happy to be heading out for a ride... taken before I turned back after getting a flat at mile 3

Over the years, bike parts have worn out, but I somehow managed to get enough gears working to comfortably ride on all but the steepest mountains here. ("All I want for Christmas is a bike tune up...")

After a few weeks of what seemed like weather better suited for the Pacific northwest, it has been magnificently sunny and mild outdoors during the day. We've lost all our flowers up at altitude, thanks to below-freezing temperatures at night, but the aspen trees have turned their leaves ...or lost their chlorophyll... and have changed the landscape daily.

                          
Down at lower altitudes in the city, I have been enjoying the last of the summer flowers and much warmer temperatures. I'm not ready for wearing all those layers just yet!

Even though I have been quite familiar with this area for a long time, living here now is completely different. The easy parts have been knowing which trails I enjoy, where to buy groceries and the like, while the more interesting bits have included living in such a small town-- everyone knows you even if you haven't met them yet. I met a couple at the museum today, visiting from New York City, who mentioned how friendly they found people here, and that I find to be very true.

I have made a few friends here so far, but just in the past week I have been delighted to hear from people that I knew in previous areas of my life-- my Tibetan teacher, whose subtle wisdom always has given me pause for thought, and a former co-worker in Massachusetts who I always looked forward to talking with while at that job. And it's those heartening conversations that I feel are most important to us. Thinking back over the path I have taken so far, and all the moves to new cities or states I have made, I look forward to meeting many more wonderful individuals here as well.

chains required...?

Is it that time of the year already? I've only been back to the US for a little over a month, and it sure feels like fall. This past weekend I was driving back from Denver and a roadside sign caught my eye: chains required through May 31-- for trucks, of course, and thankfully not for my little car! The accountant who comes by to collect our money at work every morning even told me how it had snowed the previous night, though high up on the mountain tops. I can't say I'm ready for it, but I guess that's what I signed up for living at altitude.

The transition to my new job here has been the easiest of them all. I would say the laid-back atmosphere of the town and its museum is the reason for it. I really enjoy the few people I work with, and having more freedom and responsibility in this role was very easy to get used to.

 Aside from the job, mountain living has its perks, and being able to walk out from work and be at the trail head in just a few minutes probably tops them all. That, and I'm more centrally located for family visits!

dad and me at Hoosier Pass

 The city isn't far away either, and that makes a big difference. I can have the best of both worlds. This past weekend while I was there, I knocked one item off my bucket list: the Ferris wheel! I'm not a fan of heights, but I always love a challenge. We were the first ones loaded on, and so we waited while the wheel slowly made its way around so the others could get loaded into their baskets.

Finally we reached the bottom again and were about to get going up to speed and the ride operator told us we would have to get off. Someone had broken a door, so the ride could not continue until it was repaired. Such a disappointment. At least I made it around once or twice and got to see the city from the top, but I was just getting started! Next time...

A few sights from my first month here:

Chihuly at the Botanic Gardens

interesting meditation exhibit at the Museum of Contemporary Art

concert at Red Rocks

rainbow at Loveland Pass

Australia!

It's 4 am Brisbane time and given that I've been in five different time zones in the past week and traveled to the other side of the world in the opposite hemisphere, my body feels confused enough that it could be in either sleep or wake mode and be alright. I've tried to balance the two over the past 48 hours.

The last leg of our trip was a 10 hour flight from Honolulu to Brisbane. We had such a relaxing time on the beach during our 22 hour layover, despite spending about three hours in traffic trying to get around. We were using a very rudimentary tourist map, but it was enough to lead us to Waikiki where we spent all afternoon swimming. We weren't used to such strong waves knocking us around, and Graham and I both ended up with cuts and bruises on our feet from the rocks on the ocean floor. It was well worth it though, and we ended our day with a meal at a Korean restaurant well away from the tourist areas.

courtyard at the airport: excellent idea

Our AirBnB host was eccentric and very helpful, although the heat and humidity got to us with there being no AC on his apartment. The pane-less windows had only slats that opened, so along with a box fan, we enjoyed the sounds of the city all night until a crying baby next door woke us up for good at about 4 in the morning.

Our flight that morning was uneventful until we landed at BNE and were told, after a few people stood up to get into the overheads, to sit back down. Then the flight attendants came down the aisles and after opening all the overhead bins began spraying aerosol cans of... disinfectant? It seems to be a new procedure since talk amongst passengers led to no conclusions. After deplaning, we went to customs where the first Aussie we encountered chastised us both for not knowing where we were staying beyond 'Brisbane'. Because "Brisbane is a big place". Additionally, "cousin John" is inadequate info for customs.

Finally at home and after showers, we had a wonderful meal. A home cooked meal is always very welcome after you've been consuming airplane food and backpack snacks for the majority of your meals. With it being winter here, the sun set at 5-something which really threw me off after being in Seattle where it wasn't completely dark even after 9. We ended up going to bed before 8.

It's nearly 5 am now and I've been writing this on our drive to the Gold Coast Half Marathon. The sun won't be rising for another hour, but we've been told it will be beautiful over the water.

0 to 9,500

I've made quite the change in altitude since my last post, having gone from sea level on Cape Cod and driving all the way to the Rocky Mountains. I didn't fare as well this high up as I normally do, but after almost two weeks here, I can get out for a good hike and not feel like I've done 10 times that effort afterward.

While I was back east saying my goodbyes, I had a Tibetan friend stop over for a few days. We didn't know we were living so close to each other at the time, but as they say: It's a small world! I hadn't seen him since two years ago when I was in Tibet myself, so it was a nice surprise. His English has improved very much since then, and it made me happy to see him more easily express himself in this language.

(Looking back now, I miss that ocean! I have many wonderful memories there, like I do of all the places I have lived and visited.)
 
The drive west went by quickly. I think the more cross-country trips you make, the faster they seem to go. I stopped for a day or two at my aunt's in Ohio, then my parents' in Kansas, and finally on through to Colorado.

Today, I was chatting with a "neighbor" a ways down the road, as I had stopped by their multi-family yard sale, about how lovely it is in the summertime here. With it being the weekend, plenty of visitors were taking advantage of that: we had a running road race this morning, along with an air and water show after that-- one of my favorite spectator activities. No, I wouldn't appreciate being inside one of those acrobatic aircraft, but it sure is fascinating to watch.

Newport cottages

I ventured to Newport today, one last time to visit the historic mansions since my membership expires next week. I can't believe I have been in the northeast for over a year. My mother gifted this membership to me, as our trip together to the mansions last year was the first. I have visited about seven times since then, especially when I have other out-of-towners with me. The beauty and craftsmanship of these homes is not something you see every day, and it leaves me in awe every time.

Today, I finished out the guided tour my mother and I bailed on last year (Chateau-sur-mer), and it was good. (My mother prefers to go at her own pace, hence our early departure.) I think the beginnings of tours are usually slow and dry, but as the docent got going, she really had a sense of humor, and she knew everything about every single thing in that house. Down to the tight white gloves the butlers loathed to wear in the 1960s, and to the different types of wood used for carving. Her knowledge on this topic stemmed from her father having been in the building business, and it was especially interesting to me. She has been working there for 26 years (she was about 80 years old). 

After that, I drove the "scenic route" down Bellevue Avenue, home to many of the grandiose mansions in Newport, and I kept going. I circled all the way around the coastline, and suddenly became aware of all the modern-day estates dotting the waterline, overlooking the cliffs, or trying their best to be obscured by the enormous glacial boulders scattered along the coast. I was amazed.

Even with so many mansions razed after the end of the Gilded Age era, seemingly in admonishment for the duality of extreme lavishness that existed alongside insufficiency for so many, the size of these built structures that stand today are symbolic of a certain eminence. I began to wonder, a century down the road, will these abodes be the next added to the list of historically preserved Newport homes?