The Captain and I spent about one hour in the Art Institute of Chicago. ONE HOUR. ONE HOUR.
Better than not at all. We are outdoor kind of chicks, and decided a walk along the shore of Lake Michigan would be a good thing to do before sitting hours upon hours in airplanes.
It was a beautiful sunny day, only as cold as an extra cold day in Three Rivers.
Then I came home. I love Three Rivers, Tulare County, and California. Look! Are those mountains in the distance??
So much to see, so little time. The Captain and I spent only a few hours in Chicago, trying to see and do as much as possible. The goal was the Art Institute, but then there was Lake Michigan and all that wonderful architecture, and so many interesting things to see and do. We were nervous about getting lost on the way back to the airport or getting lost in the car rental area or in the airport. So far we have always gotten found again, but missing the flight would have been completely unacceptable.
This is me with Cousin Maggie. (She’s the one with the good hair. My hair isn’t so good because I like to travel light and not haul a lot of hair tools and gunk.) I loved being with her, as always. It was hard to leave, but The Captain and I had the Art Institute awaiting us.
Oh my. This is it. It is beyond huge. I bet all the buildings in Three Rivers proper could fit inside with room to spare. Fortunately I had read about it before going, and made the decision to only visit the Impressionism exhibit with our limited time. Picasso was there, but his work is weird to this Realist from Quaintsville.
First stop was the bathroom, fortuitously located by a room full of paperweights! We detoured through that room, because my Dad used to have a paperweight of this type. He gave it to his brother, the father of my cousin Bruce. (Bruce, do you still have it?)
I think these are the some of the most beautiful tchotchkes in the world.
And true to form, I found a typo in the displays. Really! I find them EVERYWHERE.
Light and beautiful architecture really do inspire me. I could hardly get to the Impressionism Exhibit because the building and sunshine were so fabulous.
Holy cow. Seurat! Seeing these paintings for real, in the flesh, with my very own eyes – words fail me. (I know what you are thinking – “Stop talking already!”)
Monet!
To be continued. . .
The Captain and I really did make it into Chicago. We had several hours before our flight left, and it seemed right to use it by visiting the Art Institute of Chicago. That would turn a visit to Cousin Maggie into a business trip. That’s the way we self-employed artists think.
Ooh, ooh, there is a city in the distance! I even got a little shiver up my leg when I saw “Indiana” and “Milwaukee” on road signs. I don’t go many places, and am truly a California artist, through and through. Common sights to most normal people do give me a thrill. It’s a little embarrassing, but that’s the truth.
No, really! Look at those giant buildings!
The road goes UNDER THE POST OFFICE! I’m not making this up. Look at this. I think they might be a little low on space or something.
And it goes under the Stock Exchange too. Really, these people have some strange ideas. Not enough sunshine, perhaps?
What is on the roof of this building?? I photographed this through the windshield and later discovered it was the public library. Cities are so exciting!
Even the train is over the streets. They call it the “El”, because it is an elevated train. You probably knew that, because you probably go more places than this California artist. I actually knew it from visiting Chi-town in the winter of ’77-’78. Cousin Maggie’s daughter and I are great friends, in spite of being second cousins. (or because of it?)
Sunshine, snow, skyscrapers – I need to go knit a few rows on something to calm down a bit before continuing this exciting story of a California artist in Chicago.
See you on Monday?
Yesterday, I left you in the snowy woods of a Chicago suburb.
Remember when I told you everything looks better with the right light? It was sunny the day we left, and I was snapping photos like a crazy woman.
Beauty and sunlight inspire me. I want to paint. I want to draw. I might even want to write, dance and sing. Never mind. I’ll do the last 2 in private. Thanks for your concern.
Another really great thing about traveling is the knitting time. Uninterrupted knitting time on the flight is such a treat!
Did you read my post from Friday? It was called “What Happens in My Brain“, and I said at the end, “This is hard – maybe I should just go to Chicago for a weekend. . .”
The snow in Three Rivers was so fun that I decided to go to a place of true winter.
I went to Chicago for a weekend. Actually, I visited Cousin Maggie in a suburb for a few days. I’m not making this up. (And Scott D., I emailed you to try and connect, but am wondering if I sent it to an old eddress. . . ?)
This was the view out of the hotel window the first morning.
My dear friend, AKA The Captain, went to a suburb of Chicago to bury her aunt. Turns out it was the same burb where my dearest Cousin Maggie lives. That’s not the sort of coincidence one can easily ignore.
She drove me to Cousin Maggie’s house, but we chose not to take the rental car up the unplowed driveway. Do I get any dorkier than this? Never you mind.
This is the first real live cardinal I’ve ever seen! They resemble our scrub and stellar blue jays, and I was just beside myself with excitement. Is that dorky? (Don’t answer that!)
I went walking in the woods behind Cousin Maggie’s house. It is a deciduous forest preserve, and I would LOVE to see it in the fall. It was cold, but I had my trusty LL Bean boots, and lots of wooly knitted items. It was very satisfying to actually need all those things I’ve been knitting all these years.
Everything looked beautiful to me. I love to see new things, to explore and to discover. . . although I have to admit that while we were sitting in the San Francisco airport ready to take off for Chicago, I told The Captain that I couldn’t wait to get home. My travel muscle is a bit flabby – love to BE there, but oh my, the effort is stupendous.
To be continued tomorrow. . .
Growing up in Tulare County we simply referred to Lake Kaweah, created by Terminus Dam, as “The Lake”.
(and there is still a stupid dark spot on the lens.)
Now that I’ve lived in Lemon Cove (at the base of the dam) and Three Rivers (on the rivers that flow to The Lake), I’ve learned that it is The Lake. Not “Kaweah Lake”, (pronounced “Kuh-WEE-uh”, not the River Kwai!) but The Lake.
At this time of year, there is a lot of real estate at The Lake bottom for camping, walking, biking, and horseback riding.
Our very dear friends, whom I shall call “Cowboy Bert and The Captain”, have horses. They brought them to The Lake and camped and rode for several days. I’d show you a photo but the only one I have shows The Captain bending over to inspect Blue Doc’s feet, and I don’t show photos of friends bending over. Makes you want to be friends with me, hunh?
We joined them for dinner on 2 evenings – we really know how to whoop it up on New Year’s Eve! Ummmm, not.
Going places, even in my own town of Three Rivers, provides inspiration. IF I were painting these days, which I am not unless it is a commissioned piece, I’d probably paint one of the top 2 scenes (minus the weird spot on the lens).
Which is your favorite photo? (and please disregard the weird spot)
. . . except the snow was too deep and we didn’t get there!
We unloaded the Trackster around mile 12, about 2 miles below Trauger’s. I think that is where we were. It looks so very different under snow!
The Trackster leaves tracks in the snow.
Wow, there was so much snow! (There was also a weird spot on the lens of my camera.)
See?
Sawtooth and the stoopid weird spot on the lens.
This is the historic Alles cabin at Atwell Mill.
It was very pretty and very cold. Remember, I am a California artist, and I live in the sunny foothills where it snows about once every 2 years. This was a wonderful opportunity to wear many of my knitted pieces. No photos of that, sorry to disappoint you.
Our enthusiastic passenger was thrilled to build a snowman. She was amazingly skilled at it for someone who grew up in the sunny foothills where it snows a little bit maybe every two years.
This is quite the unique guy. Since we all recently saw The Hobbit, we decided the dude needed ears. Actually I suggested ears like a bear, but these ears seem to be a bit like Gollum, the gross little dude who sort of talks like Donald Duck.
Any questions? ask in the comments or email me via the contact the artist button on the menu bar.
Yesterday I began talking about California beaches and ended up showing a little bit of the Santa Barbara Mission, one of 21 missions in California.
Today I will show you a few photos I took at a Santa Barbara beach. Wow, it was beautiful! (Thank you, Captain Obvious) I took a pile of photos that I really really want to paint! But, I will only show you 3 photos, because you are probably skimming this quickly when you are supposed to be doing something else. (Isn’t everyone supposed to be very busy this time of year? I’m not that busy, but I’m a bit of an odd duck. Thanks for being polite about that.)
Is this not just stunning? Holy cow, this California artist who lives near and in the mountains is sort of experiencing a bit of beach envy.
We walked about 1 mile, probably less. HEY! Where do those stairs go?? Ummm, that would be up? Gotta see!
We climbed to the top of this very long staircase and read the sign “One Thousand Steps”. Really? I counted them on the way back down. Anyone want to guess?
Oh yeah, this is a source of inspiration for me. I feel so inspired that I might just go draw another cabin.
Growing up, “the beach” mean Newport, in Orange County. In 4th grade, my class took a field trip to Mission San Miguel and visited Pismo Beach. It was flat and muddy and there were no waves. It didn’t look like a beach to me. Later, I visited some beaches in Northern California and began understanding that “the beach” means something different all up and down the left coast. I spent 4 years in Sandy Eggo and learned that even one city can have a variety of beaches.
But, I’d never gotten a feel for Santa Barbara. This city isn’t quite “The Central Coast”, nor do I consider it Southern California. It isn’t as easy to get to as Morro Bay, and I’d never had a reason to go.
Last week, Trail Guy and I spent 4 nights there for multiple reasons irrelevant to this blog. But, as a California artist, I want to share with you some of the photos I got so you can get a little taste of this piece of our huge state with a very very long coastline.
I love the California missions. I haven’t seen all 21, but I’m always thrilled when I get to see one for the first time. I built a model of this Queen of Missions in 4th grade – 3 milk cartons do the trick! (My mom was really really mean and she wouldn’t let me build it out of sugar cubes.)
We walked around the backside and it reminded me of some of the views I took photos of in China.
What’s in there, Trail Guy??
Okay, that’s long enough for today’s post. I’ll show you the beach pictures tomorrow. (Was that a bait and switch??)
Perhaps the reason I like cabins is more than just the fact that they are simple rustic structures, usually in the mountains. I like all old architecture, in particular the designs, materials and details from the early 1900s. They inspire me and I want to draw them. Sometimes I want to paint them (pictures of them, not cover them in house-paint!) Sometimes I even want to live in them. (Repeat until you believe it – “Thou shalt not covet, thou shalt not covet”)
There is a place along the shores of Lake Tahoe that just rings my architectural bell. Usually when people think of Tahoe, they think of a big lake, or skiing, or perhaps a fancy-pants giant home, maybe some gambling, or even a marathon (or in my case, a 1/2, which I don’t think about any more, thanks for nothing, Stoopid Plantar Fasciitis).
What place? you ask. (I can hear you thinking.)
Tallac Historic Site is a series of 3 lakefront estates, all maintained, one converted to a museum. It is under the management of the U.S. Forest Service (Dept. of Ag). I’d link to the site for you, but it really isn’t very informative or pretty, and my photos tell more than their site.
I’ve never been there between June and September when the buildings are open for tours (except when walking that 1/2 marathon but I was too occupied to stop; afterward I had blisters and didn’t care).
Instead, I walk all around them and gawk and wonder in amazed admiration.
I even like them when they are boarded up for the season.
The attention to detail must have employed many people, along with all the needs and wants of the owners while in residence.
Too late to tour the buildings, too early for real fall color. On the other hand, it wasn’t crowded and we could take our time ogling, oohing, and ahhing.
Oh please, Trail Guy, now that you are retired, could we build a pond like this? (never mind about the water shortage in our neighborhood)
