Missing the "SPA" Gene

Hard to believe, but I'm in the 1% of women who are missing the SPA gene. Relax and read on---I'm not talking about new breast cancer research. No, I'm speaking about every woman's innate longing for relaxing, rejuvenating spa treatments to restore the body and de-stress the soul.

I am spa-challenged, but I'm wondering now if it's nature or nurture? Perhaps I just got off to a bad start with spas? Can I trace it all back to my first Nordstrom spa seaweed wrap? Many years ago, with 3 kids and the hectic suburban child-centered lifestyle, I remember being thrilled with my husband's gift of a spa adventure. The seaweed wrap seemed perfect-- I love the ocean! So, why not be painted with soothing green paste of mashed kelp and fragrant herbs, wrapped in a warm blanket and allowed some alone time to just breathe in and out without a care in the world? Alas, if only it were so. The green seaweed was fine, but I began to sweat in the cocoon-like wrap and worried about the green goo dripping into my eyes. I would have snuck my hand up for a quick wipe, but my Houdini skills failed me and I was unable to liberate my arm from my organic cotton strait jacket. It was too hot and the lingering, faint odor of lightly simmered seaweed was giving me a headache. My attendant finally returned and I gratefully followed her directions for the cleansing finale. I'm sure there was a shower involved, but my memory returns only one image--the attendant manning an elephant-sized hose aimed in my direction, blasting me sparkling clean, my body plastered against the wall.

I wrote all this off as beginner's bad luck, and persisted over the years in giving it "one more try." I learned to avoid Swedish massages, since they often involved a large Swedish-like woman who would comment on how tense my neck and shoulders were and then proceed to isolate a knot of muscle which she would "work" until it became rock hard, permanently ensuring that it would remain a proud emblem of my tenseness for all eternity. Perhaps this was part of the strategy for return visits?

I decided to switch to water cures. Sitting in a $120 hot bath of brownish cappucino-colored water, I thought: "Could I get the same results in my own tub at home by just not cleaning the tub?" Of course not!  

I progressed  from plain water cures to a hot mud bath. I knew I would never have the energy to drag bags of mud up to the 2nd floor bathroom of our house, so it was worth a try and, after all, we weren't just talking plain old ordinary backyard sandbox mud. I was in the Northern Napa Valley and this was primo Calistoga deep earth primordial ooze. My daughter and I shared a gloomy room with 2 huge metal tubs filled with bouncy oatmeal-laden mud. It was springy to the touch, warm and welcoming, until Beth asked: "How do you think they clean this mud between customers?"  Hmm... I pondered this as I sank deeper into the lumpy, chunky mud. Before leaving us alone for a half hour of slippery solitude, the attendant had covered our eyes with a soothing eye pillow--soothing?... or a way to discourage us from examining our muddy entrapment too closely?

"Beth," my lonely, disembodied voice floated over the tubs. "Have you stopped sinking in? Do you feel like the mud is creeping up your neck, your chin...?" Was I being pulled slowly downward to death by suffocation? "Don't struggle," I yelled, remembering the quicksand from the Tarzan movies of my youth and the admonition to stay calm. (not my strong suit!)   "Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm!"  I screamed, unable to free my arm to remove the sensory deprivation mask. Could the attendant not hear me? I finally pulled my arm out and pushed the mask back, tried to breathe slowly, until our attendant returned to liberate us from the black holes. Sucked out of the mud bath by the hefty arms of Shana of the Jungle (names have been changed to protect the guilty) we were momentarily relieved until Shana produced --- yes, you've guessed it --- the elephant-sized hose. 

All of this was valuable research for future experiences. We composed our guidelines for reading a spa menu, concentrating on red flag words to avoid: 

scrub -- being scoured with a brillo pad

removing dead skin -- (they neglect to tell you that live skin can go with it)

exfoliating -- same as above

pressure points -- see knot story above

petrissage--French for muscle torture

brisk friction -- see brillo pad 

grit  -- best left on dusty roads
sea salt -- best left in the ocean

invigorating, stimulating -- it will hurt, but you will rationalize that it was worth it.

I was beginning to get really worried. It was enough for me to be a spa-less outcast, but was I poisoning my daughter and relegating her to a life of misery when female friends suggested a "fun weekend getaway." Did Beth lack the SPA gene, too, or was I just starting her down my path of experience? I decided the second annual mother-daughter spa-cation at Mohonk Mountain House would be a test and my last ditch effort to let Beth happily join the 99% of women who love to spa.

It didn't start out well. Beth had to catch the NFC wildcard final of the Giants vs Atlanta, as soon as we arrived on Sunday. Can you say football and spa in the same breath? Luckily there was a tv room, filled with all males who looked like they had been reluctantly dragged by their wives to a romantic getaway vacation. The Giants won convincingly and Tebow and Denver won the 2nd game. After all those body slamming tackles and punishing falls, I hope the teams all got relaxing aromatherapy massages after the game. Yes, there is a football-spa connection!

Beth must have been identifying with her football heroes, because unlike her weaker mother, she successfully managed the Swedish massage. She did arrive at her appointment a little late, was whisked through the application process and spent the first few minutes of her stress free treatment wondering what she had signed and worrying about whether tips were included.

Her downfall came with the Moss Hydrating Body Mask with Exfoliating Body Glow. Had she not listened to the spa wisdom her mother had tried to convey over the years? Does moss hydrating mask not sound suspiciously like organic seaweed paste? Did she not fear the elephant hose? She had some choices for the exfoliating scrub, but I've bolded the red flag words:

• Rosemary Citron – a traditional stimulating sea salt scrub
• Espresso Mud Scrub – a rich, earthy mud scrub featuring ground Arabica beans    -- ground up beans? really? 
• Lemongrass Mimosa – micronized walnut shells and bamboo; remove dull, dry skin --Getting more serious now grinding up walnut shells and bamboo. Hope nothing goes under fingernails.
• Lemon Verbena -- the most gentle, yet effective exfoliation, for sensitive skin, with jojoba beads and oat proteins --Ah, not to worry . Here was the perfect choice.

Trouble was when Beth entered her treatment room, her 250 pound, ex-roller derby attendant said she was out of all those choices and substituted the Mohonk Fragrant Earth -- a melange of dandelion and pine essence mixed with Mohonk Preserve rock salt from the parking lot. To be fair, Organic Osama (names have been changed...) warned Beth the first part would be rough, but it would get better. Despite Beth's protests that it hurt and Organic Osama's attempts to ratchet down the intensity, OO really only knew one effort level--full speed ahead. That evening at dinner, I could see Beth was becoming a convert. She extended her arms out and proclaimed to our table: "Feel my skin- it's soft as a baby's butt!"  It got a little embarrassing when she got up and visited three other tables of strangers, exhorting them to stroke her soft skin.  "Beth," I said, maneuvering her gently back to her seat, "they just want to finish their dinners."

me and Beth

I'm glad there's hope for Beth and spas. As for me, I've identified the one foolproof treatment -- the hot stones massage. No probing fingers knotting and unknotting your muscles, just smooth pressure from warm stones and lots of moisturizing oils. Heavenly.

All kidding aside, it was a wonderful vacation-- relaxing with friends, enjoying fabulous food and good conversation in a beautiful mountain setting. Here are some pix:

Me and Carol

At the entrance

sitting room

on the trail

Nancy and Cindy

Nancy and Megan

Rocking chair pavilion

The shining?

Mohonk Mountain House and Lake

The green team

Favorites of 2011

Fourth day of the new year and I already have a 4 day string of exercising and decluttering one drawer/closet per day. Yes, the threatened black garbage bag is really out! New Year's resolutions-a piece of cake. You'll notice I didn't go for the tough ones, like writing a novel, getting more money for stage 4 cancer treatments or bringing peace to the Middle East (finally!)

Looking forward to a great year and of course looking back over 2011, I have to offer up some of my favorite things. First, the easy ones:

BEST BOOKS

Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese (fiction) A sprawling novel set between Ethiopia and America of twin boys with a special bond, tested by life events. Hard to put this one down.

The Emperor of all Maladies by Dr. Siddhartha Mukherjee (non-fiction). A history or, as he describes it, a "biography" of cancer. He talks about all cancers, not just breast cancer and relates some pretty amazing stories. I particularly liked the description of  how difficult throughout history it's been to gain acceptance of new procedures and ideas.

Life by Keith Richards (biography) 20+ disks, but well worth the listen. (You know I love Keef!)

BEST TRIP

Do you have to even ask? Alaska, hands down. As my Park Service son would say my "place attachment" remains strong. Wonderful family travel, beautiful scenery and things I thought I'd never do--kayak to a glacier, hike in close proximity to the bears, and fly in a Cessna 210 around Denali.

BEST ALBUM

Bright Morning Stars by the Wailin' Jennys- discovered this group at Bergen Community College performance and practically wore out the CD, playing it in the car. Also loved their earlier album, Forty Days and especially the single Arlington, which starts with a lovely Irish drum and has beautiful poetic lyrics.  (click on link to listen)
        

BEST PLAY

I have to restrict this category to Shakespeare, since I saw 14 plays by the bard this year, ranging from Bergen Community College production of As You Like It to King Lear with famous British actor Derek Jacobi at Brooklyn Academy of Music and also with Sam Waterston at the Public Theatre. (You know you're in trouble when you start seeing the same play and comparing different versions of it) Gary saw an additional 2 plays, but I drew the line at military history plays--Richard II and Henry V.

A Midsummer Night's Dream - a fun, easy to like Shakespeare play by the NJ Shakespeare Festival in a perfect setting: the outdoor stone amphitheatre at St Elizabeth's College.

Now the harder categories in which to pick a favorite:

BLOG: "Gee, I love them all," she said modestly.  

My pick for 2011 would be:  I still buy green bananas. Yes, Tim, I still chuckle every time I sit in the family room with my feet up in couch potato luxury.

MOVIE: Lots of good ones, none really great.

I liked The Descendants, War Horse, Midnight in Paris, The Help, The Artist.  Off beat: The Guard and Win-win. But as for best picture, I'll leave that to the Academy.

This post is starting to look like a Pinterest page, so I'd better stop. No, I can't get involved in yet another website!! (although it's fun to browse.)

The Quad Challenge

Tuesday was the day of the Quad Challenge. It was overcast and cool at 9:35 am at the start and solid rain by the 5 pm end. For those of you who may not remember, the Quad Challenge is the annual finale of Tuesday Movie Day with the twist that you must view 4 movies in one day on one ticket. Last year was exciting, eluding the many friendly employees of the AMC Theater, who had apparently just completed customer service training and made a point of greeting you as you exited the movie or passed them in the hallway. No such pressure this year. A few random employees appeared after each film to clean the theatres, but  I had the distinct feeling that I was not the only one of the patrons who had settled in for a day at the movies. Benches outside the theaters invite you to sit down, check your smartphone and plan your next move right out in the open. Was I the only furtive one, sneaking into bathrooms and plotting my next move from the privacy of a bathroom stall?

My grand plan fell apart right after the 9:35 Arthur Christmas. Although I had doublechecked the newspaper that morning, my 11:00 pick --Young Adult-- was nowhere to be found. My iPhone wasn't connecting, so I just had to improvise. I picked War Horse as the second flick and enjoyed it. I haven't seen the play, but the movie is a sentimentalized account of an extraordinary horse named Joey, raised on a farm by an English boy and sold by the father to the army for WW1 service when the family runs into financial hardship. The story traces Joey's adventures and owners from a British officer to a young French girl to an empathetic German private in charge of the horses. The movie is based on a children's book and maintains that point of view. Joey is highly anthropomorphized, feeling emotions, sacrificing for a fellow horse and nobly suffering and triumphing. It still has an emotional punch and emphasizes the humanity of soldiers as pawns of war. Spielberg reportedly filmed the movie to evoke the great old westerns of John Ford and a Hollywood era of old. The red sky over the homestead in the final scene did remind me of the end of Gone with the Wind.

Next choices were limited, so yes, I actually stepped into the theater for Mission Impossible III. I haven't seen an action film in a long time, so I had very low expectations and ended up liking it. The plot has huge gaping holes, and enough car chases, explosions and mayhem to hold me over for all of 2012, but the bits of humor were entertaining and the gadgets were interesting. What hooked me in the beginning was a Russian prisoner named Bogdan (my cousin's name) so I had to stick it out to see how he would fare. The tech guy was funny; newcomer Paula Patton was hot, and Jeremy Renner (the Hurt Locker) was fine as the last team member, led by Tom Cruise, flexing his carved pecs,  freeclimbing 100 story glass buildings in Dubai and similar crazy stunts. I thought it a little odd that the initial scenario is US vs Russia again, seemed a little Cold War-ish, but then we get the Dubai and India connections. Don't know if I'll be lining up for MI4, but the ending dropped a few lines to set up the sequel.

Now comes the sad part of the day. 5pm and the next movie is not until 6pm (We Bought a Zoo--family fare). I added another rule to the Quad Challenge--all lapses must be less than one hour and called it a night. The movies couldn't match up with last year's Oscar nominees: Black Swan, The King's speech and True Grit. This year's picks did have a theme: Believe! Believe in Santa, believe in a horse or believe you can do it. Aah, my motto for next year!

eBay: the agony and the ecstasy

I had no idea how addicting eBay can become. I posted my first item for a 3 day auction, thinking I could cash in with the last minute Christmas shoppers. The trouble with eBay is you put your item out there in the eBay universe, but you don't get automatic bid notifications to your email, so you slavishly check your account every few hours.  After you get one bid, you now feel you must check more often--every hour, every half hour?

Here's my chronology:

Friday 11pm - listed item after much debate about starting price $350 and reserve price $400 (minimum I would accept that is not visible to bidders)

Saturday 8am - listing not showing in search yet. eBay had said it might take a while, but, hey, this is only a 3 day auction. I'm losing valuable customers! Panicking...


Saturday noon-- up and running. Picture of item looks good. No bids.

Saturday 3PM--just noticed I had 2 messages--oops, one from Friday. Pepe and Jac each want to know if I'll end the auction early if they guarantee $430. I didn't know I could do that. Call eBay to find out and get a complicated set of instructions where I have to cancel this listing and re-post another with a Buy It  Now price. But if i do that and they don't respond, then I'm stuck with the higher price.  I re-read the messages.--both reflect either careless typing or not-English speakers. Hmm...and why are they so anxious to end it?  Can't we just play by the rules, people, it's only 3 days. they can tell I'm a newby (0) next to my name for completed transactions. Am I being played?

Saturday 3:30  I check out the other listings and actually write down the name codes for the 20 people bidding, cross check with all the listings. u...r is a player- 4 bids; p..a with 3. But I don't see P...e for Pepe. hmm?


Saturday 5:30 FIRST BID at starting price. Hooray! Message appears under product description :Reserve not met." What's the effect here?  Would it have been better to list a lower minimum? Worry, worry.

Saturday 9:47 pm 2 more bids so we're up to $380.

Sunday AM -- no new bids. trip into NYC to see Rockefeller Center tree and Met museum. Nice day, but I'm anxious to return to my auction. Crazy, I know.


Sunday 3pm - 3 other auctions ending over the next few hours; a friend who's an eBay whiz explains how i can check the final sale amounts: 
Am i getting greedy now? I just want to get rid of this item!

Sunday 3:41pm $395 bid from Pepe but still below my minimum. Flurry of messages from Pepe, but I'm holding firm. Watch a round of Texas hold 'em on TV for inspiration. No Pepe, I am not "all in" yet! What ever happened to Jac?--no more messages; she faded away.


Sunday 11 pm Final message from Pepe: "I respect your position. Good luck, my friend." Now I feel like it's a High Noon standoff.  "I've got to, that's the whole thing." I reply, Gary Cooper-like. 
That night I toss and turn wondering if I should lower my reserve price. I want this sale to go through and unless the miminum is met, there is no sale.

Monday 8 am. (you'll notice I'm getting up a lot earlier now--no sleeping in until 9:30--the excitement of the hunt!) 
At last! New bidder Panama comes through with a $400 bid. Whew! someone is going home with this baby, even if it's not Pepe.


Monday 8:30 I check the other sellers--exact same item and they've got bids of $450? What?!
My pageviews are up--50 people have read the ad or does that include the 33 times I've checked on it myself?  Hard to tell.


Monday 10 am - must get dressed, wrap presents, go grocery shopping.  I bet there's an eBay mobile app--There has to be!  Resist temptation. One last check and then wonder briefly about approaching the 12 hour deadline. Seems to be a watershed in eBay world. Lots of rules for before 12 hours and after 12 hours, but I'm confident I have my $400. To the A&P!

Monday 2:40 pm Woo, baby. the bids starting coming in...$420,450,460,470,480, and finally at 10:00 pm- top bidder--  $485! "Gary, this is so much fun!" I yell into the family room.


Monday 11:00pm Uh-oh. trouble on the horizon. Just out of curiosity, I checked the top bidder's address on Google maps and then the USPS--does not exist. Then an email message from him: would I consider sending the blackberry to West Africa because it was a gift to his cousin. He'd do it himself but he was currently in Belize. (both missionaries-praise the Lord). The dreaded Nigerian scam. I called eBay and they advised me to cancel the sale. Knew it was bad when the bidder ended his first message with God Bless.


Monday 11:30 pm So...back to scratch? Not quite. There's an option in eBay where you can then send a Second Chance Offer to your highest bidders to consider. But it's painstaking--you send it one at a time and give the buyer 24 hours to decide.  Back to checking every half hour!

Tuesday 9:00am eBay had said I should send the 2nd chances one at a time, but now I'm getting sick of this. Found out I can just blast it to everyone (but not Pepe -- for now. Not sure I want to give him the satisfaction that he won after all)  

Tuesday 9:15 am An M10 Security message from eBay---sounds like Judi Dench in James Bond. Or was she just M? Someone I messaged with had hacked into an account--but I can't tell which one. Presumably it was David the Missionary, but what about Pepe? Did he hack a legit user,too? This place is way too corrupt for me! Gee, it's like real life. As I always told my kids, if it looks too good, it's a scam!


Tuesday 6 pm No offers. I don't understand this. I double checked the other auctions and Johnny and Alexis were still bidding yesterday. They should jump at my offer! This is not so fun any more. I guess my addiction was short-lived after all. A careless fling. 

Tuesday 7pm A new Security message from eBay--upgraded to an M67. Yes, David the missionary is confirmed as a bad guy and eBay then deleted all my listing information and 2nd chances. I'm setting a record for calling eBay customer service. Third time is a charm? Very helpful guy answers my questions, although we have to repeat many things, starting with the spelling of my name. "F as in Fwank," he says."No, I reply patiently, "Eth as in tham--I mean, S as in Sam." Got to hand it to eBay for being an equal  opportunity employer. Speech impediment? No problem--we'll put you on the phone!  As it turned out, I had no recourse but to re-list, but now it seemed a drag.  I'd gotten no replies to my reduced offers on the 2nd chance, so I lowballed this listing. Sigh... I just want to get some money before eBay sends me another message--maybe it would be an M80 at this point.

Tuesday 9:02 pm  Annoyingly had to eat dinner and go pick up the car--Gary just doesn't understand the commitment of an eBay-er! Listed the new offering.


Tuesday 9:04 pm Saeed went for the Buy it now price, so I could dispense with the auction. 2 minute response, so I guess I really did low ball it.  


Tuesday 9:13pm Message from "wetrustinGod" -- do you have any more of these?!!  Definitely underpriced it, but what is with these guys invoking the Almighty? The God-guarantee is stronger than the eBay or PayPal buyer/seller protection.


Wedneday 9:00 am  Package is gone, money in the bank. Hooray! Don't know how soon I'll be venturing back into eBay country...

Countdown

Only 8 days until Christmas and this weekend is the last big push by shopping malls to bring in the crowds. Gary is among the rabble, heading out at 7:30 this morning to start his shopping. (I wonder if I'll see him today?)

More importantly, it is just 10 days until the Quad Challenge--4 movies in one day on one ticket! Can I do it this year? Last year I quit after three, but I'm feeling the magic and I believe it's going to happen. For one thing the movie selection looks great. Opening on Christmas Day: Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close (about a boy who loses his father on 9/11, based on the Jonathan Safran Foer book; War Horse, directed by Stephen Spielberg, now a Broadway play; and Iron Lady with Meryl Streep as Margaret Thatcher. Already playing that look interesting: Carnage, for those of who missed the play God of Carnage; Hugo, directed by Martin Scorcese about a boy who lives in the Paris train station. If I had to fill in, I might go to the latest Twilight movie. I already saw The Descendants with George Clooney, which was excellent, but may have been a tactical error on my part, considering it will still be playing. I'll have to check the rule book, but I don't think repeats are allowed.

So, lots of good things to look forward to, even after a wonderful Christmas with all three kids coming home. Yippee!  All my best to all of you.

Masquerading as a New Yorker

Don't worry, I know we're past Halloween and in the midst of the Holidays, but on my recent visits to the city, I've been masquerading as a New Yorker, trying to shed my boring, suburban middle-aged self. I went in last week for a reception/cocktail hour for an organization I work with and I got all spiffed up in metropolitan black. Tossed aside my ever ready New Balance cross trainers and wished I could don some 4 inch heeled black boots, but settled for my black suede slip ons. (Ok- Aerosoles--definitely screamed comfort over class.)

The previous week I had opted for a NJ transit bus over the train and that was a huge mistake. I could have driven to Montreal by the time I got to the city, so this time I was confident in my itinerary. I happened to be visiting the city the same evening that President Obama was in town for some fundraisers, but I thought I had outmaneuvered the mid town traffic by taking the train to Hoboken instead of Penn Station.  Imagine my surprise when I arrived at the Path train in Hoboken, only to hear the announcement that the Path line to 33rd street was temporarily closed and I'd have to take the train to World Trade Center. Slight grumblings from the crowd. Some people do blame the President for everything, as in:   "Raining today--damn Obama!"; "Tree fell in my yard."--damn that Obama. "Got a ticket for speeding" --damn you know who. In this case, though, as we poured into the waiting WTC train, I was shocked to find myself muttering under my breath--"Damn Obama," but quickly followed by "Maybe I'll see him!"  That didn't exactly make sense, since the train was now whisking us away from the areas he was visiting.

Here's where my cool New York matron outfit (is she from the Upper East Side?) failed me. I panicked and grabbed the guy next to me by the lapels, "What do I do when I get to WTC?" He was helpful, smiled, removed my hands from his jacket, brushed off some imaginary lint and explained I could take the A,C or E back uptown. I thought for a moment he might be someone famous--shaved head, oversized black rimmed glasses, jeans and red PF flyers. Was this a masquerade on his part?  He did bear a slight resemblance to Justin Timberlake or ...someone. Maybe he was doing a little research for his next role?

I composed myself, sat down and took out my cell phone like everyone else, but of course, no connectivity in the subterranean world.--at least on my iPhone. So, what were all these other people doing--scrolling up and down to read emails, playing games, faking it? I tried in vain to get to hopstop.com to figure out where I was going next, but had to discreetly nudge my cardboard book mark, embossed with a map of the NY transit system, out of my handbag. Vision being what it is, I then deftly hid the bookmark in front of my iPhone and moved it within 2 inches of my eyes. Nicely done, I thought, as I quickly surmised that I needed to walk over to the City Hall/Brooklyn Bridge subway stop and take the 6 train. I shoved everything back in my bag and realized that no one seemed to notice or care what I was doing. Ah, that New York thing. So now I'm sitting people-watching which is not a cool NY subway thing to do, so I quickly close my eyes and rock out, if I accidentally make eye contact with anyone. But I don't have the earbuds in--damn!

Rush hour now at the World Trade Center station and yes, my mouth gapes a little, taking in the scene of that 2 story high escalator jammed with people in both directions. Once out on the street I head uptown first before cutting over to the east. I walk purposefully enough to fool an out of towner who asks me for directions to the subway. I look at her pitifully and decide not to tell her she missed the easy access from the Path station, but instead re-direct her to the Church St station. (I think).  I pictured her later still circling those busy blocks, becoming more desperate when no subway entrance appeared. I just hope she didn't ask the same cop I did because he seemed to respond in not-English. I thought fluency in English would be an NYPD requirement?

At last I saw the 6 station, but no worries. If I go in the wrong direction, I could visit Scott in Brooklyn. I reached my destination, iTrulli restaurant on 27th st, without further ado and like the three wise men, returned home by a different route to avoid further difficulties, taking a cab to Penn station with a few friends from the party.

My next escapade into New York will be Tuesday to see a taping of the Anderson Cooper talk show. I watched it the other day to check out the crowd and they didn't seem to be as nicely dressed as those on the Martha Stewart show, which my sister-in-law had also attended. They were wearing the recommended bright primary colors. So, how to get a NY outfit that's not entirely black--a challenge, but I think I can manage it--maybe bright green jacket over all black.  The guest is Melissa McCarthy--I hope they don't make us watch the bathroom clip from Bridesmaids and I hope the gift is not the DVD!

One more trip planned after that--to play the Stray Boots 5th Avenue game zone. (Check it out!) The 5th Avenue windows were always a favorite outing for Gary and me when the kids were younger--Rockefeller Center, St Patrick's, Trump Tower, FAO Schwarz.  Seems like ages ago, before I started indulging in my Walter Mitty lifestyle. I didn't seem to mind then being the suburban mom with brood in tow, outfitted in our ski jackets and practical boots. Isn't life funny?

Creativity

As a logical, solutions-oriented kind of person (I just re-took the Meyers-Briggs), I'm always in awe of creativity. On a recent trip to Boston I visited the Institute of Contemporary Art (ICA), located across the bridge into South Boston, not far from the Convention Center. I didn't know much about the place, which made the recent exhibit on dance and art even more surprising and rewarding. 
The ICA sign is a bit off-putting in this area that was originally shipyards and industrial buildings. Is this a modern warehouse for the IGA food markets? 

The view from the water side is completely different and inside the museum there are two outstanding places to view the harbor. The first is an expansive view from a windowed corridor, where I took this picture.

The second is a more intimate, tiered view that focuses just on a narrower subset of waves. When I visited, there was also an inviting, complementary installation of wave shapes overhead in the small seating area. You could also view dance performances on wide screened monitors while sitting there. My favorite was a tribute to the Nijinsky/Nureyev ballet Afternoon of a Faun with that wonderful music. I listen to it now and it still evokes the sunny afternoon, watching the gentle ripples of the harbor, and feeling peaceful.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m7b1FkZYarU&feature=related

Other favorites of mine in the exhibit:

Janine Antoni drawing with Loving Care Black dye and her long hair:

You'll never feel the same about coloring your hair!

Another of her creations was an entire canvas composed of mascara from her eyelashes. You know how you sometimes brush up against the bathroom mirror and leave a delicate pattern of your lashes? Well, imagine a whole page of these--talk about getting close to your work.

There were other works created unconventionally without using hands or brushes. One involved a basketball bouncing on a painted surface. Another had three snails do the work--although that must have taken awhile. Gimmicky or art, I don't know, but if art is supposed to give you a new way of looking at the world, it certainly gave me some laughs and opened my unmascaraed eyes to innovative interactions with everyday objects.

One of the most interesting was Trisha Brown's Floor of the Forest: rows of ropes, hung with oversized shirts and pants. A single dancer appeared when I was there, and "interacted" with the installation - snaking her way from one shirt/pants to another, hanging below the ropes and often resembling a cocoon, bat, insect or reptile. Shadows cast on the floor added to the performance. Here's a cut from YouTube with 3 dancers to give you some idea, but as they say...you had to be there.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b8HZl6IMVyE&feature=related

So if you're in Boston before the Dance/Draw show closes on January 16, take a look. An added bonus: the museum "guards" are all art or art history students, happy to talk about the installations and art works. A fun afternoon!