Malaysia As Muse

Malaysia, my muse this season, has worked her magic, and now I hurry home to open my mind's eye, let the sights and sounds pour forth as a waterfall through the landscape of my memory, carrying the flow of tropical wonders into paint and clay, paper and silk.  The sights and sounds of the jungle, never far away in Malaysia, weave dense patterns in vine threads, tangles of ropey roots, hiding flashes of electric color, the buzzing, clicking, warbling living things watching me as I look, futilely, for them in the canopy that surrounds me. Air, pregnant with humidity, covers every surface of my skin, weighting my eyelids for sleep though I have just awoken.  Insects, seen and not, search for purchase, and some fortunate ones work their way through my shirt, my pants, the multiple applications of insect repellent.  Nothing to be done. I let my eyes rescue me.  I swipe my lids with the saturated wad of tissue balled up in my hand, and open them wide, to see the poetry in the undulating rhythms of palm forest, rubber plantation, pineapple fields, all whispering beneath a sky full of stories-high thunder clouds.

Ginger

In the canopy

From Bukit Genting, Penang

2000' (!) up Penang Hill

On the bridge in the canopy

Wild peacock at Bukit Genting, Penang

From 16 floors up at Batu Ferenghi

Star Ratings Don't Matter: Adjustments and Extended Traveling

Cleaning up some files - found notes on some of our travels (is that travails?) during the 90s.  (I've upgraded again, thanks to Price Line.)

What is that odd shift which occurs when one stays in the same lodging for the third night of an extended trip?  The moment when you turn the key in the lock, or wake in the morning and something in you has made this "home".  A sense of familiarity washes over you.  You drop the key on the table, kick off your thongs and walk barefoot on what was, only a moment before, a cringingly suspect surface, or you roll over, snuggling down in this bed that felt all wrong just last night.  Perhaps the surest sign of all is actually sitting, not hesitantly or gingerly, but with assurance and intention, on that toilet.  Whenever that moment is, one enters into a new state of traveling, affectionately known as "being home", and it is this great reprieve from the work of traveling that allows me to live out of a backpack in a series of strange smelling places for many months at a time, unfettered by desire for my house in America.

 An aside for public transportation.  Admittedly, I do occasionally long for the luxurious spaciousness of my Dodge van with plush seats, enclosed on three sides by privacy, tinted windows, dry and comfortably clean with my own dirt, where my entire length (and that of my husband's) may horizontalize itself without touching another human, knowing that if I roll over it will be an inanimate car wall separating me from possible embarrassment or contamination with god knows what unfamiliar, contagious particle left for me in a manner I cannot bare to ponder.  Steadfastly, I quash those moments of straying from the mysteriously satisfying travel by public conveyance...third class trains, racing night buses, donkey carts, rickshaw, tuk-tuk, bechaks - all riding me along the fanciful edge of death, or minor catastrophe.  Perhaps I intuit that it is that quarter turn toward nostalgia that can threaten my joy in travel.

             In other lands I sleep in the most unlikely of places, covered and not, safe and not, rarely bug or rodent free, and covet the stories those nights breed.  Covered by only a scratchy, odiferous camel blanket in the Tar Desert, I am reassured by my husband squeezed in next to me, and later by the mound of sand blown toward and over us in the night.  Very cozy.  Crowded into a six foot square wooden box of a cabin with one twelve inch square hole with shutter, my husband, son and I roll to the middle of a hammocked mattress, Golden Triangle monsoon turning our space into a sauna. But, in Iowa or Seattle, San Diego or Tucson, I will not turn toward the nostalgia of survival in those other far-flung lands and check into the NoTell Motel. Too much risk of what?  Bedbugs.  Pubic hair.  Athlete's foot.  Crabs.  I do not let go of the sure knowledge gained in high school that one can get crabs from the toilet seat.  Motel 6 is as low end and I go, and as I work my way into my fifties, I feel myself upgrading to Red Roof Inn.  Has there ever been a good story born at a Red Roof Inn?  Reluctantly I check into Motel 6 where just a short time ago, somewhere nearby, in Illinois perhaps, or Georgia, they uncovered a meth lab set up in two adjoining rooms.

Home Again, Home Again, Finnegan!

It's 4:30 a.m. here in NC and Jet Lag has me in its grasp.  I forgot to take my Melatonin last night and am paying the price.  I don't really think all the remedies for jet lag work, but you do feel as if you are doing something to counteract the body's confusion.  So, I stayed awake for 15 of the 17 hour flight to LA and the 3 hours it took to get a car and drive to San Diego, arriving at 3:30 a.m., slept 4 hours, spent the day exchanging working tips with another artist, trying out some new tools and sharing design ideas, watched the video Little Whit put together of our trip, and crashed, after taking a Melatonin, at 10 p.m.  Slept all night!  Thought I was home free!  Left for NC at 11 a.m., arrived home about 8 p.m. dog tired and went to bed at 10....ooops....forgot the Melatonin.  Woke up at 1 a.m. and here I am.  The really weird thing about jet lag is the sporadic state of mental paralysis you experience while your physical body goes on about its business.  It kind of feels like the opposite of REM sleep...as though all those rapid eye movements have become your wakful physical self while your mental self is asleep.  Perhaps I am actually asleep now but don't know it.

Being wakeful in the middle of the night is always swimming in a sea of ideas.  Being away from my studio for almost six weeks, away from working, is a time to gather fuel for the process.  The fuel from San Juan Island and then Malaysia is much to think about.  But since the most recent bowl of curry was had in Penang, my eyes and mind are still engaged with Chinese art and architecture.  These doors evoke a sense of the ancient, but also a connection with the hands that made them - the fine caving on some, the hand oiled surfaces, patinas from many decades of care.  The paintings of this wealthy and revered Chinese couple remind me of the craftsmen laboring in the building of their mansion, filled with the finest tiling, cabinets, furniture and paintings.  Standing on the cool tile floors, feeling the dark shuttered shade in deep rooms echoing from high wooden ceilings, I am struck with the grace of silence.  I can feel the ghosts of this family's servants who were murdered by the Japanese in WWII.  The family had escaped and the home lay vacant for 60 years, nearly ruined.  A great-grandson began the renovation.  And the renovation spurs my connection to craftsmen who came before me half a world and a century before.

Visiting Uncle Fadzil on the farm...

More from my guest blogger, the other Whitney!

After flying to Penang, we drove to my Grampa's parents house in Alor Setar. The other day, we visited my Uncle Fadzil's farm. On the way, we passed by a rubber tree plantation. As you can see on the right, there is a little bucket attached to the rubber tree. Scores are made on the tree and at the end of the score, the bucket is hung. Over time, white sap drips out and slowly falls into the bucket. That white sap is then made into the rubber we use everyday! It was really interesting! 

When we got to the farm we saw a giant chicken house! It was so long, I could hardly see the end. As we were walking in the corn field, we were surprised to come upon a big, black SCORPION! I have never seen any scorpion that was that scary and big!!! We put Grampa's cell phone down and they were the same size! Supposedly the more little the scorpions are, the more poisonous, but this one looked pretty mean. 

While in Port Dixon, Negeri Sembilan, Malaysia, we went to look at a Chinese Buddhist temple. They had different statues of Buddha and here is one of Guan Yin. She was an empress of the Chen Dynasty and her nun name was "Guanyin"

This is the Chinese Buddha!

I had lots of fun seeing the Chinese Buddhist temple. I have never been to one before and I had an excellent first experience! I am looking forward to lots more fun in Malaysia!!!

We're going to Langkawi island in North Malaysia to see the beautiful sights there! :)

Note from Gramma:  We won't have wifi there, so check in on us in about 3 days!

The Whitneys in Malaysia

Selamat Pagi (Good Morning) from Malaysia!  Syed and I are in Malaysia with our granddaughter, Whitney, and I've invited her to be my guest blogger so you can see Malaysia through the eyes of a first time visitor.

       What a special summer trip I get to go on! Malaysia is such a beautiful, amazing, multicultural country!  When we flew into Kuala Lumpur, we visited the Petronas Towers and ate at many different restaurants filled with appetizing yet intimidating food.

                                                    The Petronas Towers in Kuala Lumpur
                                                 were enormous! Larger than I ever imagined!

Eating here has been a little challenging for me. My grandparents say to only try a little bit of lots of things. This way,  when you don't prefer something, you will not have a big pile of it on your plate!

 To get to know the cooking and food here, we attended a local cooking class called LaZat.  It was a great class! First, we cooked Otak Otak, which is  marinated fish in banana leaves.  I am not a big fan of seafood, so that wasn't my favorite dish of the day. Second, we cooked Kari Ayam, or chicken curry. This was very tasty! It contained lots of fresh herbs and spices. We even pounded the shallots, garlic, and ginger ourselves! To go with the Kari Ayam, we fried up some Roti Jala, a type of lacy, thin pancakes.  All rolled up and dipped into the chicken curry was complete perfection. To top off the scrumptious meal, we made a Malaysian dessert called Onde Onde. This is made with palm sugar in a small ball of dough like material, and then boiled until cooked. Once it was cooked, we smothered it with fresh shaved coconut! YUM!!!  I would have never thought that cooking Malaysian food would be so much FUN!

                                                     Preparing my Onde Onde (dessert)

                                                         Making Roti Jala (Roti=bread;
                                                               Jala=fisherman's net)

We are off to visit my Grampa's parents in North Malaysia in Alor Setar, where the food is even more spicy!!!

Extraordinary Beauty

I am sitting here, virtually speechless after having watched this video http://bit.ly/ipztZ of Gregory Colbert, photographer and, I would say, poet, philosopher, sage, dreamer, visionary.  I was mesmerized and I invite you to watch too.

Best Ice Cream in the World....and still on the way home

Not exactly as the crow flies, unless he's been blown off course by a hurricane...Scottsdale to San Diego to Scottsdale to Albuquerque to OK City where the Red Buds appeared and continued to be the only color in view until St. Louis and now Cincinnati. In St Louis, I delivered several paintings to a lovely old neighborhood, Kirkwood, full of charming brick homes surrounded by huge deciduous trees, ubiquitous flowering pears, redbuds, and the darling of Spring, the dogwood with its delightful white petals and yellow centers.  There is something so solid and secure about those older homes in the midwest and east.  Most of us who were raised in that style home and it is like a big hug when I get to be in one again.

 Lots of road, lots of zzzzs while Syed drives but tonight THE BEST ICE CREAM IN THE WORLD!

Well, it WAS the best ice cream in the world....didn't last long.  And in case you can't read the label it's GRAETERS from Ohio.

Usually we would load up a couple of 1/2 gallons and bring it home on dry ice, but since the stay in AZ was a little fattening this year, we are foregoing the luxury.

Today we saw the real sign of Spring...Dandelions!
A sea of dandelions! Each one with those squared off petals waiting to become a burst of puff spreading their childish joy (oh woe to the yard fanatics out there!) for all to play with.  Who doesn't remember blowing the silver-white arrows into the air?  I love them now, soft cushions underfoot, bright and warm after winter's cold hard ground.  They are so gloriously persistent.  Perhaps they better deserve their space than that finicky, ever thirsty grass so many are slaves to.

Long may you live, Dandelion!

And tomorrow, FINALLY, home to Salisbury.  I look forward to a beautiful drive through WV since I-40 is still closed from last fall's rock slide.

I'll check in again from home and till then, enjoy Spring!

Fulfilling his dream

5:00 pm 4/08/10
Near the Grey and Donley county lines and the town of Jericho, Texas, we pulled the van over to the side of the highway to wait for Al Slusser who was walking along the highway, to catch up to us. At first we thought he was on a recumbent bike, but no, he was walking, pulling a two-wheeled cart behind him from which a bit of water was dripping. He had that weathered look of someone who spends most of the time out in the wind and sun, wore a scrunched hat with “Arizona” across the front, beat up jeans, and a tee shirt with a highway worker’s yellow vest with green iridescent stripes and a message on the back – about Unity and Pray for the USA. He caught up to us and seemed pleased and surprised to hear we had pulled over for him. And he told us his story. He is 71 and fulfilling his dream of walking coast to coast, and collecting knots in a red, white, and blue rope. Each knot is tied by someone he meets along the way who can take the pledge to “stand up for the USA and kneel down for her.” Al was inspired by John Kennedy’s “Ask not what your country can do for you. Ask what you can do for your country.” He carries only a small section of rope, about 3’, with him. When it is full of knots, he sends it to a group in AZ who adds it to the other pieces and Al hopes that when they send him the completed “Unity Ball” when he reaches Washington, DC, that it will be quite large, and he hopes to present it to the President as a symbol of so many Americans praying for the unity of their country. Al said it all started with his “bucket list”, things he wanted to do before he dies, but it has grown into a larger vision – one of inspiration – and indeed, he has dedicated his walk to senior citizens and disabled Americans.  Al's got a website - www.c2cw.com.  We will think of you often, Al.  God bless you on your travels as you walk the talk.

 

Travels home

4/08/10

Ending a show…

Ten weeks, plus four or five days on either end for setting up and tearing down. That would be 78+/- work days in a row – ok, ok, once in while there’s a morning off to do laundry, go to the grocery store, maybe get a haircut. So, when we are finished, what do we do?

Spend some time with the grandkids at the beach watching the seals give birth, take a ride up to watch the paragliders jumping off the cliffs at Torrey Pines, and wander around some cool neighborhoods finding poetic jewels in the midst of a teeming city…..

Anybody know where this is?......                                                                            

Then our little interlude is over and we are wending our way back to NC, and with all due respect to those living in the west of NM or the panhandle of Texas, it is less than a visually stimulating ride. The miles of flat bone colored grass with only very occasionally something remarkably beautiful (like the wind turbines stretching across the prairie spied along I-40 in the panhandle), or joyfully unexpected (the old car sculpture farther east on the same road) which, apologetically, I did not get to photograph…Syed says “next time” as I’m hollering, “STOP”.

I know that there is poetry in this bareness, but it’s a poetry I haven’t learned to appreciate except in a very ….OH STOP! This truck is carrying an ENTIRE load of BEES! Where are you going and why? The grasses are sage green, pavement various shades of dust, palest of blue skies punctuated by telephone pole sticks. Cadmium yellow road signs keep me awake. Black dots of Angus and a fence line wandering away into the far distance. No NPR. But a thrash of black birds executes a rush of sharp angles in front of us, and gone.

ACC/Charlotte

It was delightful meeting so many new people this past weekend at the ACC/Charlotte show! It was the first time that I've shown in Charlotte and it was a beautiful and succesful show - and fun to know that many of you will visit our studio/gallery just 40 miles up the road in Salisbury. To those of you who recognized my work from other NC shows in Asheville, Blowing Rock, Piedmont and Cabbarus County, thanks for the compliment! Achieving that "voice" in one's work is something we all strive for. Three days is a long show and I'm glad to be drinking my coffee this morning in my own home. On Wednesday, after the election, I'll be back at work preparing for the Piedmont Craftsmen and Carolina Designer Craftsmen shows. Hope to see you there.

Gourd Workshops & Classes

At last! The Gourd Workshops have begun! Click on Workshops & Classes to see what's coming in September. We'll have a great time and you will love Salisbury in the Fall!

Best Laid Plans and all that....

So much for the best laid plans! Saturday we got only as far as Charlotte on our way to Malaysia, and today we're back in Salisbury, without having passed Go or Malaysia or Dubai! (No collecting $200 either.) Air traffic control problems in D.C. caused us to miss our international connection. No seats available till 6/8 (which is the day we were leaving Malaysia for Dubai). Couldn't readjust our summer schedule. Trip cancelled. Bummer.

We were so bummed that we went to three (yes, THREE) movies on Sunday and ate out at a Malaysian restaurant in Charlotte. Our favorite Charlotte movie theater, the Manner, was showing Son of Rambow (yes, that's the correct spelling), and The Visitor. Rambow was a charming young-boy-finding-his-creative-self film that touched on bullying, religious narrowness, sibling relationships, isolation and ultimately the meaning of friendship. The Visitor is a moving film about surviving grief, the many sides of immigration and compassion. The acting is superb, the topics handled with balance and attention to avoiding stereotyping. Not to be missed. Third was The Fall, a sumptuously filmed thousand-and-one-nights funny, touching story telling with an absolutely runaway performance by the little girl. Acting all round was excellent but she ran away with the film. I would see it again and again.

Having, by now, recovered from our anticipation of the jet lag not experienced, we are back at work in the studio. We'll be here. Where are you?

STUCK IN TUCUMCARI

Thought for sure we'd be rolling into NC by now. Wrong. Stuck in Tucumcari, NM with a bad wheel bearing. Parts are coming. From where I don't know, but no where near here. Motel smells like old spaghetti. Yesterday I managed to work a bit on some small gourd boxes, using my Apoxie Sculpt in the car. A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius is saving me at the moment. Hoping to get out of here today sometime. On the up side, we have managed to avoid any contact with the big storms hitting OK City and regions north, south and east of there.