A weekend in Maine has come to a rainy close, and while my mind processes rejoining the working masses, this post is just to mark time with its brilliant begonia blooms. The patio plantings went in a little later than usual, and the cool weather we’ve had hasn’t really inspired them with much confidence, but the plants will catch up when the sun and warmth do. I’m placing my faith in the universe to nudge us along to where we are supposed to be.
The unofficial arrival of summer (though we’re waiting until it’s official in June for our summer reveals) comes with Memorial Day, and we’re off to the races – but first the weekly blog recap for all that you may have unintentionally (ahem) missed…
My mandated dates of touching grass were more needed than I realized.
Dahlias continue to be the stuff of dreams.
A quick lilac lesson continued the magic of the spring season.
This Greek salad by the pool was all about the chopping.
A merry magnolia for your viewing pleasure.
Only a moron does a thing like this. (Guilty.)
Two strangers, a few lost boys, and my mother = our annual Mother’s Day weekend on Broadway.
Living for this colour palette.
Why oh why must it be this way?
Dazzlers of the Day included Charles Melton and Hamish Powell.
This is Venus and the moon, playfully skirting each other on a recent early evening following one of those impossibly warm 90-degree days we had before it all turned cold and rainy again. Brief spells of magic, tantalizing glimpses of summer, and prayers for more beauty and charm to come… late spring weaves and works its enchantments like no other season, offering hope and promise for those of us still smarting from winter.
In the spring night, the mind unspools like the whorls of a radial flower – spreading and sending out feelers for warmth and comfort, luring in potential pollinators, and beauty is almost an incidental afterthought. What is Venus whispering to the moon on this evening? Secrets of love and naughtiness perhaps, secrets of wanton desire, of tenuous connections of the sort traced by planets and moons and lost to time and space and distance. The missed cries of orbits uncrossed sound from and for another century, and what would it mean if two orbits ever did in fact cross at the same time? Nobody wants to see the sayings through.
And so the moon whispers back to Venus, and it is something we mortals will never hear – even if we did, we could hardly understand it. We are basic and limited creatures – to Venus and the moon we aren’t even here.
This Dazzler of the Day is casting his spell across the pond in waves of floral glory and bountiful beauty. A floral artist based in London, Hamish Powell is easy on the eyes, and endeavors to bring the natural world into fashion and art. In his own words, “Flowers are my muse and my medium.” His exquisite creations have adorned galleries, fashion events, and advertising campaigns for the likes of Burberry, Diptyque, Loewe, Claridges, YSL and Penhaligons – all the finest that London has to offer. Check out his charming website here.
This azalea grows in downtown Albany, on a little side walkway that most people rarely use, which makes it a favorite thoroughfare of mine. Its colours – that brilliant magenta against a forest of bright chartreuse – make for a combustible combination, one that has thrilled me since I was a child. Here, it sets itself aflame in the more beautiful manner – harbinger of a fiery season to come.
What floral fireworks await us for the upcoming summer season? Time will tell, and this year I’m simply going with the flow and enjoying the moments as they unfold. There’s less stress and more fun in that. May unfurls her splendor by the day, sometimes by the hour, as weather and moods shift dramatically. These blooms bring the drama to match such an emotional rollercoaster.
As for spring, there’s still some more of it, so let’s make the most of it while it lasts – it’s been such a lovely journey thus far, and I don’t quite want it to end…
There is a certain segment of people that will always enjoy seeing me in states of distress, duress, and undress. I’ve endeavored to accept this without catering or kowtowing to them.
I’m not always successful.
Reminder: don’t come for me until you’re called.
Madonna’s choice of shades for the current ‘Confessions II’ album promo is hitting all my favorite buttons – pinks and fuchsias and hot pinks and lavenders and soft pinks and purples and all the pinks… it’s heaven for a pink-lover like myself. Pink is divinity.
I’m also digging this glimpse of her bathroom. It’s probably the size of my entire house, and with much better lighting. The rich and famous just live better than the rest of us. Alas…
This year’s Mother’s Day itinerary on Broadway included two new shows and a return to our old stomping ground of the Marriott Marquis. As much as I abhor Times Square, and do I ever hate it, having a homebase there just a block or two from the restaurants and theaters where we were headed makes everything easier, especially when time is of the essence. It’s also nice to have a nearby location to go in-between shows, rather than having to trek out a few enormous blocks that are just slightly less than a subway ride away.
It looked to be a rainy weekend, but we managed to mostly avoid getting wet, even as showers threatened from the very first stage of journey – the train ride down along the Hudson River.
Clouds bracketed glimpses of blue sky and peeks of sun, and there were spells of rain the whole ray down. Once we entered Manhattan, the sun came out and it was warmer than the Albany climate we had just left. Our first show was ‘Two Strangers (Carry a Cake Across New York)’ and it was the ideal NY-themed show to christen our weekend back on Broadway. Captivatingly charming, it’s a look at the earliest rumblings of possible love amid the pasts we all carry with us, done in a light-hearted and hilarious way.
The next day we went shopping at Bloomingdales and along Fifth Avenue – and by shopping I mean cologne sampling. I tried many – too many – before settling on a standard I’ve been flirting with for many years – details to come. Rain was scheduled to arrive that afternoon, so we walked back our hotel, stopping for a cafe culture moment outside while the weather was fair. (No, I did not purchase these exquisite shoes.)
Dinner was fortuitously scheduled for The View (the revolving restaurant on top of our hotel) so we didn’t have to brave the weather – a happy circumstance that found us skirting the last remnants of the rainstorm. Atop The View, we spun around slowly, taking in all sides of Manhattan as a dramatic cloudscape paraded before us. Not sure if there’s anything as kitschy as a revolving restaurant, and I loved it all the more for that. (The last time I was in a restaurant that revolved was on a childhood summer vacation with the family in Montreal – Mom recalled that and said that my brother and I had insisted on dining there, which rings true to what a kid would want.)
As dinner passed, and the city swirled beneath us, the clouds departed and a bit of blue sky appeared before turning shades of pink for the sunset. It made for an idyllic walk to the Palace Theatre, where our second show was playing. I hadn’t been to the theater since the last performance of this ‘Sunset Boulevard’ revival – and this was a totally different production.
A visually magnificent feat of theatrical wonder, ‘The Lost Boys’ literally flies, succeeding in its smoky atmosphere of ominously entertaining scenes – a fun romp that will have fans of the original film more than fulfilled. While it didn’t quite move me as much as ‘Two Strangers…’ it’s worth taking in for the effects and ambiance.
Our Mother’s Day tradition concluded for another season – next year will mark the 30th anniversary of our very first Broadway weekend tradition, so we will be going all out for that… stay tuned.
Born all the way up and over in Alaska, Charles Melton has made the perilous journey from male model to actor with deft aplomb and sure footing, something not many models are able to accomplish. With notable roles on ‘Glee’ and ‘American Horror Story’, Melton earned his finest accolades from his role in ‘May December’ – and today he can add Dazzler of the Day to his impressive resume.
If you think you are going to be able to control mint in the garden through careful monitoring and ruthless maintenance, you are incorrect.
I thought I could – the same way I contained a wild sweet pea (which I still have under somewhat stringent control) but mint is a different animal entirely, with its deceptive runners that creep wherever it senses water, sprouting up many feet from its source, and then splitting off into numerous other channels.
Don’t even let it get started. Forewarned is fair-warned, as they told us in retail.
Thyme, on the other hand, is always on your side.
Allow me to explain the title of this post, or at least make an attempt.
This is not about blow-jobs.
This is not about giving head.
It’s not about sucking the juicy life out of a hibiscus bloom, or even lapping up some hibiscus tea.
It’s a reference to how we can live things out solely in our heads, the way I lived out most of last year’s Island Summer in the pictures and ideas of a tropical flower, such as this hibiscus, wet with a morning’s watering regime.
Much of this lilac spring has been fantasy and head-living. The the outside world refused to cooperate weather-wise, when we were struck down with sickness, when one simply felt icky and drab with dampened spirits, I’d retreat to the beautiful yarns running through my mind, a place that has never failed to elicit escape and wonder and enchantment in the darkest of days.
For now, when rain is in the forecast and summer seemingly backs away from its approach, a list of summer starts to remind us how life in the sunny season may once again come to pass…
When it comes to brownies, are you a center-lover or an edge-eater? I’m a corner fan myself… and it looks like this brownie baking tray is just for those of us who like all the edges we can get.
While magnolias are too big and messy for our little yard, I have always admired them from afar, and I still thrill at their blooming season when it rolls around – always too quickly, always torn asunder by 90-degree heat or wind-driven rain. When they are in bloom however, it is a glorious sight, one that restores a dwindling faith in the power of beauty.
When I was a kid, our neighbors two houses down had a magnificent magnolia tree in their backyard. I would sneak through the woods behind our houses and estimate how far I had to go to find their yard, then emerge on the edge of their property, spying the magnolia tree in full resplendent bloom. I would stay there, close to the ground, transfixed with wonder and amazement at this stately tree absolutely overflowing with rich blooms marbled and mottled with pink, along with a delicate fragrance delivered on the breeze. Sometimes the ground would be wet with spring, and my pants would be soaked by the time I got back home; I never cared because glimpsing the magnolia blooms fed my soul for the whole following winter.
Offering a glimpse of a summer to possibly come, this Greek salad was enjoyed poolside on a day when the temperatures reach into the 90’s – because we can’t just go from winter to spring – we have to have winter, then fall, then winter again, then brutal fall, then winter again… well, you get the sad idea. By the time this gets posted, we may be back in the rainy doldrums, so I’m putting this up to remind myself that there are sunny days behind us, and sunny days ahead.
This salad is simple enough – it’s mostly about the chopping and finding the freshest ingredients. Comprised of garbanzo beans, cucumbers, tomatoes, artichoke hearts, Kalamata olives, roasted chicken, and lettuce, it’s dressed in a lemon juice, olive oil, oregano, garlic and dijon mustard dressing. (A few sidetracks from a traditional Greek salad as there is no red onion, and I included lettuce for filler.) When it comes to salad, everyone should toss it their own way.
