Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art

M and I left ol' Pink Eye back at the Valley Ho-ser and hit up the Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art (or SMoCA... it rolls, no?  No.) to check out the James Turrell piece, Knight Rise.  (Funny that James Turrell is totally trending these days anyway due to his current retrospective at the LACMA.  Hipsters be lovin' Turrell.)  We went at dusk, so we could peep the piece with the changing light.

Here:

and here:

It was pretty cool.  Nice and peaceful, forcing you to really NOTICE.  Or just to relax and wait.  And watch.

M and I really loved the light play as you walked to the Turrell piece.  Here are some shots of how the light reflects off the prismatic bits on the glass walls.

Of course with a cactus.

M, ever the photographer, had some fun photographing me through the filter-box that Julianne Swartz had set up.

Speaking of Ms. Swartz, who I was unfamiliar with before, damn does that lady do some good art.  Her art is interactive, working multiple senses at once.  Now I'm listening, now I'm opening, now I'm moving something, now something's moving around me.  Now that's stimulation!  There's an element of discovery to what she does, as well.  Because how often do we adults really discover anything (besides having diabetes or lack of xmas bonuses) anymore?  It feels good.  M and I stood there, listening or watching, and moving around to listen or watch in a different way.  

This, this.  This is my favorite kind of art.  Julianne Swartz is a genius.  She deserves much more renown, methinks.

AZ Intro

I met up with B and our friend Monika in Arizona, of all places.  Random, and honestly we had not planned to be in AZ but it was convenient and sunny and good for road trippin' and so it ended up to be a vacation salvager.  Thanks be to Arizona!

We stayed at the Hotel Valley Ho in downtown Scottsdale, which is recommended.  They did a bang-up job renovating this old Scottsdale hotel, leaving enough of the atomic vibe, but making it comfortable and modern.  The bar scene was also much livelier than that at the hotel where we almost stayed, the similarly retro-modern Saguaro.

This was the view from our balcony the first morning in Arizona.  Nice, right?

We did our best in Scottsdale, which was definitely not our scene.  We were all excited to find a "speakeasy" cocktail bar, which had some rules posted outside, where we had to wait to be escorted in after calling on a private phone.  But when we got inside, the decor felt more Residence Inn than Milk & Honey (the OG modern speakeasy).  And the "mixologist" (yuck, yuck, quick calling them that!) who came to help us was all, like SHOUTING at us, O-M-G, about the COCKTAILS, you know, you guys, and was she, like, wait... is that one of the Arizona Cardinals...?  Yeah, it was gross.  And M's cocktail was bad but the cheer-ologist did comp us for it.  Still, no.  The best meal we had was at a Japanese joint in an outdoor mall run by a James Beard regional semi-finalist.  That was a treat!


B turned up in Scottsdale with not only a nasty cold, but a crusty pink eye full of--PINK EYE!  Yuck-O!  I found I was better at working switches and knobs with my elbows than I'd given myself credit for. (Dear Self, Add new skill to resume?)  And I was constantly wiping my hands with straight alcohol wipes, injection prep-style.  I am happy to report that due to my vigilance, the pink eye virus died right there at the Valley Ho-tel.  Or maybe B left a little in the rental car or perhaps in Jerome, AZ.  But know that we did not bring any crusty eyes to fancy Palm Springs.  Nuh-uh.

Here I am showing off my new jewelries, purchased at the super super swell Chief Dodge in Scottsdale.  Oh, to be head-to-toe in turquoise!

This is my new ring of agate from Montana, made by a Navajo artisan.

And look!  My perm is still in effect!  Must be that dry desert air.

The Man With The Cans

Before I leave St. Louis, there's one more thing.

I met a man, he had many cans.  (He was not called Stan.)  He had a plan for the cans--on his wall, not in a van.  Many decades and countries do they span, these cans.  If you like graphic design, you will be a fan.

Fashion + Chess

One of the highlights of my trip to St. Louis was the current exhibition at the World Chess Hall of Fame, A Queen Within.  First of all, that says World.  So, FACE.  St. Louis is a global city, y'all!

No, but really, this exhibit could have been dropped right into the Musee des Arts Decoratifs, as is.  It's legit.  St. Louis is lucky to have an exhibit of this caliber on, so if you live there and you haven't seen it yet--go.  Really, GO.  It is stellar.

You can read more about the show here.  There is tons of McQueen, some Margiela and Viktor & Rolf and Iris Van Herpen, but also some newer/smaller/indie-er folks like Minju Kim (you know I love) and Vibskov and Sandra Backlund... which leads me to the fact that the whole thing was curated by a Swedish lady called Sofia Hedman.  Just more evidence that Swedes are everywhere.  Also also, the custom headpieces by Charlie Le Mindu are extraordinary.  I would have paid just to see them, honestly.  You can see some here. 

I am interested to see where the exhibit will go next, as I heard they're in talks for it to travel.  I hope more people can see it, as it's really great.

Besides all of this, it's a fine museum and the hall of fame part is good, too.  I wish I'd had more time to read about the inductees, but luckily there's a bit of that online, as well.

Scenes from St. Louis

I spent about 11 days in my hometown, which happened to be about 20 degrees F warmer than Stockholm at the time.  I'll take it!  It was a pretty relaxing time, though I was on the go a bunch.  There's never enough time when I'm home, but I got in some quality time with those I love.  Still, it was sad to go.

Here are some photos.



Hilde, the fat cat living in suburban luxury.

She's a darling, even if she's not a big snuggler--though I do force that issue, believe it.




I went with my parents to see that movie Jerusalem at the IMAX in the Science Center.  First, the Science Center is FREE!  But it also kinda sucks, so there's that.  There is a giant animatronic T. Rex and Brontosaurus scene happening, but after I deemed it un-Instagrammable (bad angles) I was bored.  The most exciting part was when my kitten heel got caught in the wonky hem of my coat and I nearly ate shit on the stairs in front of the T. Rex jam.  Talk about almost making myself extinct!  Har har!

Oh right, I was gearing up to slam that Jerusalem movie, though maybe my beef is actually with the whole IMAX/Omnimax/70 mm format.  (I mean, Benedict Cumberbatch did narrate Jerusalem so that counts for something.)  But yeah, initializing slam...  I had seen something on the IMAX years and years ago and remember thinking it was cool to be flying above the world or in outer space or whatever it was.  I just remember thinking 70 mm was pretty awesome.  Oh, how much I've wimped out in 20 years.

As we (and the rest of the grey hairs--it was a mid-day Tuesday showing) ascended to take our seats (they let you into the theater at the bottom), I already had a bad feeling.  That biz is steep.  Vertigo alert!    (How do the olds manage when my 38-year-old self can barely hang?)  We found our spot and not only did I feel like I was gonna fall out of my seat if I leaned over too far, but damn that screen is close-to-the-OSE.

The movie started and at the opening (swirling, no doubt) shot, my mom and I looked at each other with "oh shit" eyes and weak stomachs.  This was gonna be bad.  Real bad.  The movie kept going--zooming, spiraling, sweeping--and I wanted to leave.  But how to get down the row (past the other seniors) and navigate the steep stairs to get the hell out??  Attempting to leave could play out worse than me just sitting there with my eyes closed, thinking un-nauseating thoughts.  So I stayed.  But seriously, no one needs to be THAT close.  I am not that close to people in real-effing-life, why do I want to be that close on a screen?  This thing is trying to be realer than life, and I guess it is.  Also, the zooming and panning?  I could appreciate the beautiful scenery more if you could just leave the camera in place for a freaking minute so I could really take it all in.  Quit flying me around!  Yuck, yuck, barf.  The director's name is Daniel Ferguson and I know because I plan to write him a letter.  I am trying to be more eloquent than "Go fuck yourself", however.  I'll get there.


The best part of the IMAX day was visiting Uncle Leo at his home in Dogtown. His home is meticulous--everything tidy and in its place.  I wanted to snap more photos, but it was sorta dark in there.  Still, cool.

 My mom treated me to a pedicure.  Fancy times.

I took to ordering my coffee in the St. Louis Bread Co. drive through.  I mean, why should I have to exit my vehicle to get a cuppa?  (Ha!  I just remembered the garrulous guy working inside who kept going on about Jody Foster [with a bit of Streep bashing, even] while he made my CUP-paccino.)

 Lunch downtown with Maura and my mom.

 Katie brought some ancient photos to brunch one day.  Check out the babies below!  I think this was '91.  Man, I used to love that Nanette Lepore dress.

 Making cookies with the little ladies!  What a great night.

Aunt Helen tries glögg on Christmas day!  We had the cognac version.

HOME. FINALLY HOME.

Oh boy, it's been about 4 weeks living out of a suitcase.  I managed to come back to Stockholm for 2 days and swap out the big suitcase for a smaller one, but then it was back to a hotel room for another week.  I was in the United States for about 3 weeks to visit family and friends--in St. Louis for 11 days and in Arizona and California for another 8 days.  And then I spent the last week in Shanghai.  I'm going to try to get all caught up here today because there were some fantastic times.  B is in Tokyo now, so I plan to do things like re-organize closets and snuggle with Chi-kitty (on my lap now, good start) this week.  Oh and also the big fabric guy is in the office this week and there's a full-day workshop on Thursday and ugh ugh ugh... back to real WORK.  Gonna have to clear a path on my desk tomorrow morning.

But before I get started, I want to give a shout out to my immune system, which has not been having any of the viral trash that's been going around.  Cold viruses be frontin' to the left and right and my immune system be all like:  STEP, PLAYAS.

Seriously.  Byron turned up in Arizona with a killer cold and pink eye (pink eye!!), Marjan also had a douzy of a viral cough kicking, and I just got back from hack-a-minute Shanghai and feel (knock on wood) fine.  Surviving this shit on screwy sleep hours and germy planes has really been a wonder.  So props to you, my usually feeble immune system.  Can we go until at least Summer, please?

Initial Thoughts Upon Being Back in The United States

The language. 

I feel like I'm eavesdropping on everyone because I CAN ACTUALLY UNDERSTAND WHAT PEOPLE AROUND ME ARE SAYING. I keep reminding myself that though I can comprehend, these are not my conversations and no one needs me to add anything. But it's hard, you know. 

The radio! Driving! 

These are things I have missed. I find myself taking the long way around so I can get in more music time. There is a song by Rihanna and Eminem--something about a monster--that is on every other station, every other song I swear it. There is also some Lady Gaga and (dirty raper--not missing a P) R. Kelly song that I change in protest each time I hear it. I may be checking in on the Top 40 crap, but I'm doing it with a conscience. Also, some radio station's touting itself as giving the "most free money." Is that what listening to the radio's about these days?

Speaking of driving.

People are rampantly TEXTING while doing it. And this is not illegal! I'm sure it just gets worse when everyone's driving around from Christmas party to cocktail spot to other cocktail spot (read: drinking and driving, yo it happens big time here) and texting to keep in touch while on the road. Drunk driving and texting is pretty much about the scariest thing I can think of. Ugh. Shame on youse.

Which reminds me.

The St. Louis accent exists. I have tried to put my finger on what it entails exactly, though it screams to me when I hear it. In discussing with others, however, we determined it's nasal vowels ("hockey" is something more like "hah-kee" with the "hah" straight up your nose), hard D's and T's when they start words, and dropped Gs when they're at the end of a word (goin', runnin'). It all combines in a way that someone described as goose-like. Yep, it's true. St. Louisans sound like geese. Gives new meaning to the term "honkies." Oh, and this number: 44? Lots of locals say "farty far." No joke!

Slang! 

I am tricking out my words and phrases in a most creative and confused way--because I am here with the natives! I had to remind myself to just "say it right" the other day. Because it's probably pretty annoying to be around me and my dancing mouth.

The televisions. 

Why is there a TV bloody everywhere?? We had lunch at a Vietnamese spot today and I found myself lost in the electronic visions above the bar. Boo. Put that shit away. TVs just de-class everything. Someone told me there are even TVs above urinals in some places. I have not seen this myself nor will I be checking. But seriously, you can't whiz without missing a minute of the game?!

Accessorizing

You know, in the past months...

Baby Daisy wonders why my "drool bib" is so dry.

I call this one the "collar prowler."

A snack on the shoulder.

Grandma's vintage locket.

Ol' creepy clown is still creepy as ever.

Mushroom Hunting

We're truly getting into the Swedish swing of things and, come fall, that means mushroom hunting.  We were lucky enough to be invited by the lovely Daniel and Judyta to Tyresta National Park to get our mushroom on.

First, about the park.  It's only about 20 minutes outside of Stockholm, but it feels like you're in the middle of nowhere once you start a-wanderin'.  There was a terrible fire in the park some years ago (it basically sounds like a dumb tourist version of Mrs. O'Leary's cow) so there's a great expanse that's burned out and surreal.  Daniel and JD referred to it as the "dinosaur forest."  It was stunning.

After arriving at Tyresta, our hosts showed us what to look for, handed us baskets, and off we went!  We stuck to chanterelles, so we focused our eyes on spotting those and weeding out the impostors (not poisonous--don't worry).  Mushroom hunting is quite a zen activity.  You wander, getting lost in every little thing on the forest floor.  Sometimes it feels like you're looking at one of those "magic" 3D posters that were so infuriating popular in the '90s.  Things aren't always what they seem--until they are and you've stumbled on a "mushroom village" as we got to call them.  It's like your eyes change focus and suddenly all of these mushrooms pop out where there were none.  The little fellows seem to be quite social, huddling in patches for the most part.  Of course, there were also many loners that did not go unpicked.

We each went our own direction, sometimes staying relatively near to each other--other times, losing ourselves entirely until someone whistled or shouted for a response.  Again, zen.  We rested first for a fika with banana bread and coffee.  Then later to eat our prize meal--hokkaido pumpkin soup supplemented with the day's mushroom catch.  Noms.

And the best part?  Our gracious hosts shared their bounty with us at the end of the day.  So even these nubes went home with full baskets.

No leaning tree shall be unturned, declares B!

The season's must-have accessory: a mushroom basket.

I knew well enough not to pick the gooey bark sludge.  (Though I have eaten similar stuff in China and it's damn good.)

Our crew crossing the bridge in the birch forest.

<3 birch.="" p="">

Our chef, sautéing the mushrooms to be added to the pumpkin soup.

Delicious, delicious pumpkin soup with fresh chanterelles.

The scene from where we stopped to eat in the "dinosaur forest."

The next day, we cleaned all of the mushrooms (with a soft brush) and I got to cooking!

Baked eggs with goat's cheese and chanterelles.  Oh, and bacon on the side.

And for dinner, it was galettes with sautéed mushrooms and garlic.  Yummy!

Minju Kim

This coat.

I mean, right?

This coat stops traffic.  I make all kinds of new friends when I wear it.  Even the Swedes, who do not warm up to outsiders so easily, find themselves crossing streets or shops to ask me where the coat is from.  This woman was snapping photos of me (er, the coat) like crazy at a Marimekko party the other night, and I actually had one iota of a sense of how annoying it would be to go through life like that.  (Poor Kim Kardashi... wait.  NO.)

And do you know where it's from?  H&M.

Yeah, buddy!  H&M.  Over here (and in other selected big cities), H&M has all sorts of edgy and trendy get-ups.  And things that are produced in small runs.  (Ask me about my goat-skin fringed leather jacket made in Turkey...) Like this coat.  There were only four of them in all of Sweden.  How's that for exclusive?  I'm certain there were less than 1000 made.  F-A-N-C-E.

Anyway, the designer is Minju Kim and she won the H&M design award this year.  Her collection was sold in selected H&M stores, as well as in Opening Ceremony in the US.  I will post more pics from the  other pieces I bought from her collection (stay tuned for the "monster hug cape") as I wear 'em, but for now you can see more here.  God, it's like she was designing for me.

Back to the coat... real quick, the pink skirt-y part in the back zips off so it can be a relatively less-kooky item, made up of only two mis-matched wool blend jacquard fabrics.  I know... AND it's convertible??  This coat is tops.