Bright Lights, Big City: Part II

In a crazy unpredictable world, sometimes luck finds you for a moment, brings in the presents to unwrap, and then decides you've had your share and heads out to find someone else to gift. Last weekend was all about luck and gifts and this one was more about real life. Yesterday became a wildly shaken snow globe that almost lost my husband on familiar streets ten minutes from home (yea for the GPS!), and shut down major roads, schools, libraries, and dental offices (actually not a bad thing.) But last week was still that more gentle winter that just makes life in the city a bit more festive.

After our Fabulous Friday adventures we were ready for a simpler day on Saturday before the big dinner/dance. The weekend coincided with a great shopping experience that I love for two reasons. The One of a Kind Show and Sale, Chicago, gives shoppers the chance to visit with hundreds of artists selling predominantly wearable art and home decor, along with a smattering of fine art and specialty foods. It is a feast for the senses, can rob you blind, help make new friends and contacts in the art world, and give an artist serious affirmation or consternation about her abilities and marketing savvy. But the second and equally impressive opportunity is the chance to visit the magnificent Merchandise Mart with its wonderful home decor showrooms that will confirm the fact that, yes, there are still many REALLY wealthy folks left who can built kitchens and baths most of us will only ever see in magazines or our dreams.

Mildly famous people sometimes exhibit at the OOAK show.  People like the amazing bead artist and bead historian, Valerie Hector, whose jewelry designs ought to be in museums, and such minor celebs as recent Project Runway contestant, Ping Wu, demonstrating her "transformable multifunctional hand knit accessories".

After several hours of serious sensory overload, hubby and I finally decided to choose a selection of wonderfully worn and textured salvaged tin ceiling tiles, which are converted into wall plaques, to use as inspiration for a bit of living room redo this winter.

Salvaged tiles from Olde Good Things

The annual dinner dance was slightly more satisfying than usual. Food was edible, band played and sang well and got me on the dance floor for passable rendition of Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance".  Not only didn't I fall off my heels, but I got a thumbs up from a much younger co-worker from Brazil, where surely they know a thing about moving it.

Sunday brought the start of the windy and colder, so we did what we needed to do to wrap up the good times before overplaying our hand. One must always see a festive department store bulging with good cheer and good merchandise. Macy's, State Street, was shining with baubles from floor to skylight. I made a brief stop in the children's book department and read President Obama's delightfully inspirational book that began in life as a letter to Sasha and Malia about all the wonderful things he saw in them and hoped for them, and the many famous figures, current and historical, who may serve as role models for young women today.

A final jaunt in the streets to photograph the wonderful lines and details that will serve as drawing inspiration, and to capture the energy of people walking with purpose.

I am a sucker for the raw beauty of cities, beyond the glam. I took this shot showcasing the energy of  human endeavor and edited it three different way.  I can see something like this as a series of quilts...Intense...

Subdued...

Remembered.

The beautiful clock across from our hotel is begging for some historical research and to be drawn, painted, shared.

The corncob lines of Marina City's famous condos hold views and dreams

The energy of a train rounding a city corner

Trump's shimmering blue tower adds a bit of magic to the skyline.  Even  when viewed from the street directly below it, it appears to be painted on the sky.

The Hotel Monaco's lobby invites with a bowl of oranges and a soft glow.

My life, too, feels like it has purpose now. So much more than just a few months ago. Defining it, directing it...that will be the job of the new year. Right now, I'm just basking in its warmth.

Art vs Arts and Crafts

Somehow we all intrinsically know that there is a difference between "art" and "craft",  yet the real question is how and when and to whom does it matter? Sometimes I care a lot, and sometimes not at all.

During the last few weeks of drawing from life, I have begun to glean the difference for myself: art has something to do with finding the voice within, to make an original impression or expression. 

And yet for most of my life I have been what may be called an "artisan"--someone who crafts fine things by hand. Hey, isn't "artisanal" the word of the day for good foods? Well, I've always had an artisanal home and life. Whether my clothing, my food, my decor, or the gifts I gave--they came from my heart and my hand. So I have to believe it's only a small leap step to expressing my heart and my intellect in a form that may be called "art".

While I work on getting to that place, I often get my fill of great art by visiting the wealth of it that resides in Chicagoland.  I am fortunate to be a member of the Art Institute of Chicago and one of its affiliate associate clubs. Last month we took a trip to see the collections of an obscenely wealthy family (think major corporate CEO) on the North Shore who happen to own a mind bending stash of artifacts from the Arts and Crafts period of home decor and art, primarily but not exclusively, Gustave Stickley. Their property, Crab Tree Farm, is a restored, working farm in Lake Bluff, Illinois, and only gives docent led tours to non profit groups like the AIC. You will never get closer to a museum quality collection (literally walk around rooms filled with stuff, just don't touch) than a personal tour such as this. I was both joyous and queasy to be there, thinking about weighing my good fortune with the morality of how any one family gets to have so much power as to own and control a piece of history like that. But I can't deny I was thankful for the opportunity.

Back home in my garden, inspecting the recent maintenance on my gazebo, I reflected on my own good fortune to live in a "hand built" home of my husband's and my making. The gazebo we built together is a sanctuary of sorts graced with my stained glass skylight. Because you only see the glass when standing close, I often forget how special and beautiful it is.

Six hand built panels, all the same design, but uniquely sized
to fit the spaces of a hand built roof

Everywhere inside my home are pieces of unique craft: stained glass windows and lamps, hand dyed sheets, hand built staircase with unique wrought iron balusters, tiled walls and posts and mantle, and quilts, quilts, quilts everywhere.

What to do with all the leftover dye at the end of a dye session:
Voila! "autumn splendor"

When you have an ugly pole, cover it with tile.
These homeowners are not afraid of color!

Custom made wrought iron furniture by two Michigan  artisans. Nothing is too special for a beloved cat to sit on.

Yes, and although I didn't realize until now, I live in a home inspired by the philosophy of the Arts and Crafts movement: that people need to surround their daily lives with handmade beauty. 


I live in handcrafted love.