A Summer Day in Buffalo Town

 

Today it was summer!

Just a few days after my freezing Artist's Date just last week, suddenly, as Howard said, it was as if we all flew to North Carolina. It was almost 70 degrees! My friend Ryan and I went and sat on the beach and took the sea air. And earlier, I took the picture above when I walked around Delaware Park.

The water was so clear.

 

I kept hoping I would see the giant snapping turtle again. I am on complete Turtle Alert and I am sure he and I will meet up in the future!

In the afternoon at the beach Ryan and I sat on Adirondack chairs in the sun and it was so warm we could almost complain about the heat. That is always fun, the first time each year when you can complain about the heat. We are not quite there yet but we will be soon.

Our usual spot, Wilkeson Pointe, is closed for construction. They cannot keep their hands off of Wilkeson Pointe. Here all our other parks need fixing and nothing needs fixing at Wilkeson Pointe and yet Wilkeson Pointe gets the attention. It is like working in the garden. You gravitate towards the area where everything is doing well and all the flowers are coming up. And that patch of bishop's weed -- oh, you leave that alone.

What with the summer weather I am thinking about my next Artist's Way Artist's Date.  I am thinking a mani/pedi. Does that count as an Artist's Date?

I was thinking that being a pianist I should get a manicure. Leonard Pennario always got manicures. When I knew him he was still getting them. You need your hands to look good on a piano. I will have to tell the manicurist to make my nails short because I am a pianist.

This is a wonderful time of year, very early spring.

The possibilities are endless!
 

An Artist's Date with Charles Burchfield

As I confided yesterday, I am working through Julia Cameron's famous book "The Artist's Way." I am on Chapter Two and yesterday I decided it was time for my second Artist's Date.

These are forays you make on your own, to anywhere -- it is just supposed to be something you enjoy, something that's fun. Technically you are supposed to plan them in advance. Yeah right, as Leonard Pennario used to say. I will get better at this however right now I am just trying to make sure these Artist's Dates happen. You do a chapter of the book a week and one Artist's Date a week. This weekend is kind of crowded and I wanted to make sure I did not fall behind with things.

I have a list of possibilities for Artist's Dates. It is easy to overthink them and I have vowed not to. I think I get the gist of it, which is to step out of your routine, do something different.

So yesterday I carved out a couple of hours and sallied out to the Burchfield Nature Center in Gardenville, i.e. West Seneca. It was actually not far from Cazenovia Park where I went for my first Artist's Date. South Buffalo and West Seneca are neighbors.

And speaking of neighbors, guess what was right across the street from the Burchfield Nature Center?

Beautiful Fourteen Holy Helpers!

The Burchfield Nature Center is a kind of mystery to me. Even after going there I was unable to determine its exact connection with Charles Burchfield. Did C.B. live there? Was it at least his property? I cannot figure that out and there was no one I could ask.

However it was new to me and I enjoyed, even in what amounted to bitter cold, walking on the wooden pathways and standing at the edge of the rushing creek.

 

 

What creek is this? That is another question.

From time to time plaques showed you pictures of Burchfield's wacky nature paintings. They would tell you he liked painting poplar trees, things like that. 

 

It left me wanting more information.

I wanted to know if it were these particular poplar trees he painted!

Did he paint this exact creek?

I am sentimental. I will have to look up these answers. One goofy thing about all this is I was friends with his daughter. My friend Michelle introduced me to Charles Burchfield's daughter Catherine Parker. Catherine was at my house several times. I was at her studio. I saw her at other friends' houses. Did I ever ask her one question about her dad? No!

Back then I knew nothing about Burchfield and I just was not curious. Which probably helped my friendship with her -- she must have gotten sick of people asking her about her famous father. But still.

Couldn't I at least have asked one question?

Back to yesterday. The Burchfield Nature Center itself, this sprawling wealthy-looking house, was closed. It was just me and the cold. I actually think this was a day Burchfield would have liked. I think he would have liked the color palette.

 

He loved this time of year, very early spring. He also loved the approach of winter. He liked the drama of our seasons here in Buffalo.

I walked around for about 45 minutes, thinking about things like this, and then I went on to Part Two of my Artist Date, which was to visit a nursery and treat myself to some plants. Gardenville was named for all its nurseries. 

I thought I might buy one or two plants. Yeah right -- again.

I came home with about a dozen! Here is my cart at Rudolph's, on Clinton Street.

 

When I got them home I arranged my acquisitions in the sun room. And the flora, I now say, were the best part of the Artist's Date. Last night, as I was getting ready to go rehearse with the St. Louis Choir, I was sort of fretting about how the day had gone. I wasted too much time, I thought. I have a lot of work to do. That Artist's Date ate too much of my day. I should do them on Sundays. You are supposed to fritter away Sundays, not Thursdays.

Then I looked up and saw all those flowers and ferns. And I thought, this is a day I will remember.

With pleasure.

March comes in like a lion

In Buffalo, March goes in like a lion and out like a lion.

However we are getting signs of spring! The daffodils have been up for several weeks. I have been shocked, shocked I tell you, to hear the red-winged blackbird and the mourning dove.

Unusually for Buffalo we have had a few actual spring days.

Of course they alternate with deep winter days. But still.

A spring photo album, just from the last few days, walking in Delaware Park, on Wilkeson Pointe, and at Forest Lawn Cemetery:

I like to snap one picture on every walk. Sometimes I take two however there does come a time to put your phone away and just enjoy taking the air. Putting your phone away is an art that many people are not privy to. Bad grammar! It is an art to which many people are not privy.

The photo directly above, I like to take a picture at that particular spot in Delaware Park. Perhaps one day I can do a flip-through of all of them and we could literally see the seasons coming and going. We could see the lake freeze and thaw and the trees change color.

I could very well have enough photos already!

 

A Visit to the American Mariner

 

The American Mariner has been wintering downtown at the Cheerios plant!

I saw it a few weeks ago and I went back yesterday after church to visit it. The Outer Harbor was dramatic and windy but you can tell spring is coming.

Geese were walking around on the ice.

This is a time of year I love. A few days ago I paused in running errands and I drew Channel 4.

It is still pretty cold out to do drawings outside. I had hopes yesterday when I went to the waterfront but it was so windy you just had to forget it.

However again, that is what I love about this time of year. Spring is just getting started.

The sky is the limit!

Mr. Blue Bird on my shoulder

Today in between baking for church and working on other things that needed working on, I managed to get in a walk around Hoyt Lake.

It is always a great victory to get in a walk on a cold and dreary day! You feel like Beethoven, triumphing over the elements. And as I walked in the park the sky brightened and the sun peeked out here and there.

Not only that but there were these blue birds that fascinated me.

They were zipping around over the water and around me, twisting and turning, so fast it was hard to get a good look at them. I did see that they were a kind of iridescent blue.

Zip, dive, twist, turn.

I made this valiant attempt to take their picture.

Ha, ha! This is one instance when a sketchbook would serve better. Let us admit it, there are many such instances.

When I got home I looked them up and I do believe they are tree swallows.

Above is a tree swallow from the august Audubon Society. I would not have recognized it because it never saw one sitting still as that one is.

How did they get that bird to sit still?

This was more like what I saw.

But still, I never got that clear of a look. I was just trying to get in my head what I could. Blue back, white underbelly -- yep, that's him.

These birds felt magical. They were swooping and dipping everywhere, just zipping around. Nobody else seemed to notice. Everyone else was looking at screens and listening to headphones.

Those poor folks.

They just could not swallow the Tree Swallow!

Springtime in Buffalo

For a man-made lake, you know, Hoyt Lake is not bad!

I love walking in the park and it takes me about 20 minutes to get to this lake but that is going the long way. If I went the short way it would be more like 10 minutes.

It can get mighty quiet around Hoyt Lake this time of year. A miracle in Buffalo! This is where I learned the chirp of the red-winged blackbird. I love that bird's harsh drawn-out call. That is the sound of summer.

You can see the spring in the picture up above! And in this one.

On the other hand I took these pictures just last week. Heck, not even a week ago! Four days ago.

You will notice there are more wintry pictures than spring pictures. I am afraid I prefer the weather the wintry way when you get down to it. I have many more pictures that I took on cold days than on beautiful idyllic summer days.

I loved taking that wintry walk four days ago. It was colder than a well-digger's ass, as Tom Waits would put it. Well, not quite as cold, but I love quoting that song. And it was just about as cold.

There was nobody in the park! I ran into one gentleman going east when I was going west. We said good morning, as Buffalonians will.

Then he said, "Beautiful day."

And I agreed.

It was!

I am trying to see if I took pictures on the drizzly day I walked this week. Yes! I did!

Another shot.

I do love brooding days! Here is another.

This is a Buffalo spring for you. My brother Tony described it well once. He said that in spring in Buffalo it is as if winter and summer are in a battle for every single day. That is true.

And you know what the say about March. It comes in like a lion and goes out like a lion.

I am fine with it.

Green day

Yesterday I had to take a picture of my purchases at Amvets before they were even in the bag.

They were just so pretty! Full of the colors of spring. Even if spring is not here yet. The pitcher in the pitcher (ha, could not help that) is covered with flowers that you cannot see. The records on the right, I had actually picked them out the day before. But I could not handle the checkout line on that day so I put them back in the record bin and went on my way.

No one else wanted the records I wanted! And I put them right in the front and everything.

I am insulted!

But happy to find them right where I had stashed them, I will say that. We had no coffee hour at church because the Italian Mass congregation had the hall for their massive St. Joseph's Table. And so my friend Lizzie and I went from church to Amvets where we met our friend Ryan. And then all three of us went to Buffalo Cider Hall...

.... in honor of St. Patrick's Day.

We agreed that Amvets is a great place to meet. That way if your friend is late, no worries. You may amuse yourself indefinitely.

I was happy because I had the best St. Patrick's Day outfit I had ever had. The piece de resistance was a bright green Liz Claiborne sweater. It had been sitting for months at the top of a pile of clothes in a box destined for Amvets. But the box never seemed to make its way to Amvets and so I thought, I may as well get a wear out of it, I mean, as long as it is here.

"You should keep it," said my Irish friend Bill Kearney at church. And I do believe I will.

There are times when you need something Kelly green and even if that happens only once or twice a year, it is worth having something for those occasions!

Back to the Buffalo Cider Hall. While we were drinking cider with varying percentages of alcohol Ryan had to tell me about this St. Patrick cartoon which now I will never get out of my head. Here I had admired St. Patrick in the choir loft of St. Anthony's ...

... and had even said a prayer: St. Patrick, pray for us!

But now when I think of St. Patrick all I can think of is this.

Ha, ha!

A happy St. Patrick's Day it was. And now back to work, with unfinished business clamoring for my attention.

Are we there yet?

The thrift shopping we do in the spring

Even though it's freezing out I know it is spring.

There is the matter of the daffodils, up above. It may take a sharp eye to spot them but they are there!

There is also the matter of  I cannot stay away from thrift shops.

I have a lot of work to do so I do not go special. But I work in a quick stop on my way from somewhere I have to be. For instance yesterday I went to the chiropractor. On my way home I could not resist popping into Goodwill.

Hardly had I stepped inside when from across the crowded room I saw it -- a gigantic framed print of John Singer Sargent's "Daughters of Edward Darley Boit." Here is a picture of it from the Boston Museum of Fine Art, where I believe the picture lives.

And I have to say, it was darn near as big as in that photo. And framed the same way, too. I recognized it as soon as I walked in. I have been studying Sargent recently because I have been noticing that he and I have in common certain ways of thinking and perceiving things. Howard laughs at me because I am cooking dinner and listening to curators and other eggheads giving lectures about him.

Back to "Daughters of Edward Darley Boit." It was $15, purple price tag, darn.

That was not the color that was half price! Yellow was half price if memory serves me.

Where would I put it? That was another consideration. I just have so much stuff, you know?

I could have overruled both those considerations. However, that fine ostentatious frame was chipped pretty visibly in spots. That was what finally made me make the decision I did, which was ...

No.

That evening Howard said, "I'm surprised you could resist it."

"Me, too," I admitted. "If the frame were OK I would have bought it."

Howard asked, "Was it an original?"

I said, "Howard, no, it was not an original! People pay millions for this guy's stuff!"

I had to pause to imagine the greatness of the situation were I to be able to reply, "Yes, it was an original. And I like the idea of having an original Sargent. But where would I put it? And it had a purple price tag --

Howard stuck to his guns. "It could have been an original. You never know. People don't know what they have in their houses."

Watch, he will turn out to be right. The Boston Museum of Fine Arts will all of a sudden report that "Daughters of Edward Darley Boit" is missing.

And here it is at the Town of Tonawanda Goodwill. Turned down by me because the price tag was purple and not yellow.

Howard would sure have the last laugh!

Spring surprise

As soon as my Christmas tree is down I declare it spring. And from then on, I cheer spring on.

The tree came down around Candlemas. Me being a schlep, my wreath is still up. But other people's wreaths are up too. I am not alone.

Still it feels great to feel spring in the air, or imagine I do. That picture up above that I took the other day does not exactly scream spring. And yet... and yet ...

The daffodils have been inching up for a few weeks. Today I spotted the sorrel plant! And I bit into one of the leaves. That sour-lemon taste! That is spring!

And now for the big surprise. Remember those pathetic containers I put into the bishop's weed? They are covered in dead leaves.

Idly I brushed the leaves off this one tub. And lo and behold ...

It was brimming with oregano!

It is not as if I can get everything right. A stick stuck in the pot read "Apple Mint." Perhaps I might see some apple mint later. But for now, oregano! A lot of it! I think the leaves were making the planter into some kind of a greenhouse.

Because I did not have this oregano last summer. But I sure have it now!

Now I can see hope inching up with me like those daffodil shoots. Every year I have garden ambitions. Every year, because I have too many irons in the fire, the grand plans end in chaos.

Oh well.

It makes for good entertainment!

[in Just-] Spring

I know it is early but I cannot help thinking of this poem by e.e. cummings I loved when I was in grade school.

[in Just-]
BY E. E. CUMMINGS
in Just-
spring          when the world is mud-
luscious the little
lame balloonman

whistles          far          and wee

and eddieandbill come
running from marbles and
piracies and it's
spring

when the world is puddle-wonderful

the queer
old balloonman whistles
far          and             wee
and bettyandisbel come dancing

from hop-scotch and jump-rope and

it's
spring
and

         the

                  goat-footed

balloonMan          whistles
far
and
wee


There is the poem. Now it is me again talking. It is sweet how e.e. cummings was so enthralled by the typewriter which I am guessing was kind of new at the time. The spaces, the punctuation, the capitalization or not. Even his name, it is so typewriter.

There is a font, American Typewriter. I think the poem should technically be read in that font.

I remember when I was a kid, and pretty little, I mean, about 9 or 10, I kind of "got" what he meant. That is how good he was. The world puddle-wonderful. And back then before iPhones we actually did come running from hop-scotch and jump-rope. How quaint I am.

Up above is a picture Howard took of Jeoffry looking out at the spring morning. I like to put pictures like this on the Web log because I do not want them to get lost in the shuffle of Facebook. We put it up on Facebook with the caption "Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning." Because that was a song by Cat Stevens.

Cat, get it? At first I did not.

Spring! A little early but still.

Aw, shoot!

The daffodils are up!

I always start the watch in January and this morning I saw them. Those are the daffodil shoots in the picture. I do not expect anyone to be able to make them out. I can hardly make them out!

But they are there!

Three years ago on Mozart's birthday, which is today, I was also writing about the daffodils. They are on my mind this time of year. Wow, looking back at that post, I can tell you one thing: My Christmas tree was a lot whiter then than it is now!

The Christmas tree came with instructions not to put it in the window, because putting it in the window yellows it. That is pretty dumb if you ask me. Where are you going to put the Christmas tree if not in the window? Anyway my tree has gotten kind of yellow. But when the lights are on no one can tell.

In 2011 the daffodils were later. It seems that I first saw them that year in February.

In 2010 it was March when I talked about the daffodils. That was the day I went to that snowy garage sale with my mom. I always remember that!

In 2009 daffodils figured in my list of 10 Things I Do Not Understand.

Ah, the memories!

This is why we have Web logs.

Magnolias in bloom

It is so beautiful all of a sudden!

Yesterday walking around with my friend Michelle, we walked through a beautiful bohemian Buffalo neighborhood. We counted two (2) men on porches, playing stringed instruments. One was playing guitar, with his dog sitting next to him. Another, a couple of blocks away, was playing banjo. It sounded something like Stephen Foster's "O Susannah," but Michelle assured me it was a rock song.

There were magnolia trees in bloom, as pictured above.

What fun. This has been a week for great walks. I also took a walk with my friend Melinda and I snapped this picture which captures the joy of spring.

And this masterful shot.

(I like trains.)

In between tying up my book on Pennario I do plan on enjoying this summer.

It is just getting started!

Spring in our step

Today, two signs say summer is on the way:

One, fireworks! Or, as I put on Facebook, at least I hoped they were fireworks. Finally I learned that they were, indeed. At first it sounded as if they were coming from the north, i.e., the back of the house. The cat was in the window watching and going crazy. But then I looked out the front of the house and there were the telltale flashes, across the park and over the trees.

Fireworks!

Does that sound shout summer or what?

So that was one thing. Another was that my neighbor David was cutting our lawn.

We have a kind of urban arrangement with David that has gone on for several years now. No one ever discussed it. It just fell into place. We get the snow out of their driveway in the wintertime and they cut our grass in the summer. David was cutting the grass and I told him how heavenly the aroma was, of the cut grass. We gossiped and kvetched and rejoiced together in the changing of the seasons.

It is funny with the grass. One day it is not there and the next day it is up to your knees.

Dandelions, suddenly, everywhere.

Bishop's weed aggressive.

Blue skies, at least once in a while. The picture up at the top, I took that Saturday in the park.

It made me think about this song by Schubert. I have posted this before but what the heck.