travel

I appreciate responsible individuals.  I also appreciate when they’re responsible nature rubs off on me.  Having said that, I’m sick of being asked “Do you have your passport?”  I just got back from 3 weeks of travel in Western Europe and I can’t tell you how many times I heard that question.  Luckily, the only thing I lost on this trip was an adapter, a few socks and some sleep.

I’ve decided I’m getting old.  This adventure through Germany, the Czech Republic, Spain and South France wiped me out (or maybe it’s because my birthday is around the corner).  It was well worth it though.  After seeing a million stunning cathedrals, historic buildings, winding roads and vineyard after vineyard, I’m ready to paint (and sleep).

What a whirlwind the past few weeks have been.  I just got back on Sunday from nine days in London.  The next morning I (re)packed my suitcase for New Bremen, Ohio.  What’s in New Bremen you ask?  Not much, which is the point.  A friend has property there and a phenomenal setup for artists to work in.  I would call it an artist residency center, but the place isn’t advertised.  I talked to a farmer yesterday who leases some of the land.  He told me, “There aren’t artists here that often, only people [my friend] invites.  Usually they’re a pretty big deal.”  I tried not to blow my cover and tell him that standard did not apply to me.

This is my second day and I’ve made good progress on four paintings.  I hope to finish three of them and at least one other work in progress I brought with me.  I’m also trying to wrap up three books I’ve been lingering on for far too long.  Oh the things I never get to at home.  I guess it would help if i could kick my jet lag and stay up past 9pm.

Things worth avoiding:

• Temperatures below 50 degrees (I’m a firm believer in outside air being in close proximity to your body temp)
• Snow, unless the word is followed by “cone,” in which case you’re likely to be someplace warm
• “Defrosting” your car (does that sound as ridiculous to anyone as it does it me?)
• Paying over $200/month to heat a tiny apartment
• Ice crystal formations on your bedroom window that make you feel like you’re in some weird sci-fi movie and part of a petri dish

I got away last weekend to a place where flip flops are appropriate year round and snow is something you only see photos of in library books (where it belongs!).  For a long weekend, I soaked up the most beautiful and inspiring ambiance while staying at the Gallery Inn in Old San Juan, Puerto Rico.

The owner, Jan D’Esopo, is an artist who has turned her creativity into a successful career that would make any painter drool.  This lady gets it.  She was born in NYC, lived in Conneticut since father taught at Yale (where she studied at the school of fine arts), and now owns a 16th century building in Old San Juan she and her husband tranformed into a hotel.

Jan hosts art workshops and musical performances at the Gallery Inn.  It truly is a place to get an injection of creativity.  I got to paint with Jan by the pool, where she showed me how to use acrylic paints like watercolors (no, really, you can’t tell the difference and the paint won’t bleed. Ok, now I’m off on a nuanced artist’s tangent).  Needless to say, it was an enchanting weekend.

I’m convinced the sun, in moderation, is like a human battery charger.  Beach sand and salt water are the best skin exfoliants.  And the sound of the ocean meeting the land is hypnotic.  The closest I’d get to all of this in Kentucky, mid-November is a tanning bed, store-bought bath salts, and a sound machine. I prefer Puerto Rico

I leave for Puerto Rico with a friend Saturday at the crack of dawn.  “Plan a vacation for 08″ has been on my to-do list for ages and finally I see the light at the end of tunnel.  And that light is the close-to-the-equator-sun that will be warming my pasty white skin.

People keep asking me what I’m going to do on vacation. I keep saying, “I’m going to try to do nothing.” Well, maybe a gain a few pounds eating fried plantains and work on my Spanglish.

It’s in the mid-eighties there right now. There’s a chance I might not come back until May…

I’m at Rutgers University for a conference (”Breaking Down the Walls: Reaching Youth, Families, and the Communities Through the Arts“). The first presenters were part of a teen improv group called Reflections. It was a great kickoff to the conference. These kids did a great job illustrating to the audience how they use improvisational performances in schools to teach conflict resolution. I can definitely see how the issues they address are more effectively conveyed by teen peers. And of course, the students involved as actors with Reflections have a lot to gain from the experience.

Now speaking is New Jersey Secretary of State, Nina Mitchell-Wells. Here are a few notes I’ve jotted down from her talk (don’t hold me to exact accuracy):

• Youth involved in the arts are: 4 x to be more likely to do well in math and science
• 3 x more likely to get an award for attendance
• read for pleasure twice as often
• have improved social skills and are more tolerant individuals
• are more likely to vote
• 25% of students are left unattended from 3-6pm (and could greatly benefit from art programming)

I recently ran into a mother/daughter duo at a Vietnamese restaurant who were my old neighbors. I used to babysit for the daughter, who at that time was about 6 years old. This young lady is now half way through college and planning to be an au pair (glorified word for nanny) abroad next summer. How’s that for making you feel old?

They were asking me about my experience as a nanny in Australia right after I graduated from college. It was all in passing, but today I got an email from the daughter with more specific questions. I replied back with a very long-winded response that flowed that water. Writing to her about my experience brought back some extremely fond memories.

I think I truly lucked out with my surrogate/nanny family. That was an amazing 6 months of my life. I tried really hard to find a way to stay (such as marrying an Aussie), but alas, the immigration office kicked me out before I could get my ducks in a row. Maybe such phenomenal experiences are best left at their peak so they will forever stay in dream-like status in our minds.