The Beginning Of The End

Well, after one high school graduation ceremony, and one college orientation, summer is in full swing. My boys are already complaining that their internships are starting on Monday, after only one week of 'true' vacation, if there is a silver lining (in addition to the fact of their actually having paid internships), it's that their lovely cousin has arrived to stay with us for six weeks, as she is interning as well. Somehow, summer has become something slightly less idyllic, less relaxed, no longer seemingly endless. Jam-packed and abbreviated by early college move-in dates, month-plus long internships, the only solace, truly, is a change of venue from the usual school-work year. There is almost more joy in the planning than the execution, as one old friend is famous for saying each Memorial Day..."summer's almost over".

Where I long to be.

The Reawakening

Apologies for the pregnant pause between posts. I've just returned from a long Memorial Day weekend to open our family's summer house. For generations my family has been making the long trek to Michigan's Upper Peninsula to take in the cool air, sylvan north woods and sheltered waters of the Les Cheneaux Islands. My great grandparents began visiting family friends in the 1920's and bought a cottage in the early 30's. For them, it was an escape from the muggy Ohio River valley of Cincinnati. 

For anyone who's shared the tradition of a family summer house, they know that these places are more 'home' than any place they might spend the other nine plus months of the year. Each of these places holds a rich tapestry of memories shared in common among siblings, cousins and generations. Every bedroom might be named, 'the indian room', 'uncle Louie's room', and so on and if not for the oral histories passed down through generations, uncle Louie's identity might be lost to the mists of time. 

So for me, Memorial Day is a time not just to reflect on the sacrifices of those who spilled their blood to ensure our national freedoms, but also to meditate on the rich tradition which I've been privileged to enjoy. As the cottage reawakens from it's winter long dormancy, so do all the memories of parents and family, some long gone.
Each generation inevitably faces a watershed moment when siblings and or cousins part ways, joint ownership can and often does prove nettlesome. When my father passed away nearly 20 years ago, my mother, not an avid boater, decided to acquire a mainland residence so as not to be island-bound at the old family cottage. Just a couple of years ago, my wife and I secured a full interest in my mother's place and were able to renovate. The house, not freighted with the same degree of aforementioned memories and history, allowed us a free hand to take things in a fresh direction. I think the reawakening was a wonderful one, hopefully it too will last for generations.

Move Over, Andy Goldsworthy

I've always been fascinated by the work of artists like Andy Goldsworthy, Jim Denevan and also Christo, though his pieces are less naturalistic and more monumental. I came across the this spread on the work of French artist Sylvain Meyer which I find quite inspiring.

via Colossal and ruines humaine

Rainin' Spain

I'm seeing a lot of Spanish design these days that very much appeals to me, and there seems to be a growing number of good Spanish design blogs as well. One that I follow on a regular basis is Desde My Ventana, which always seems to have rich content. I found this interesting Spanish farmhouse on Interiors.

via Interiors

The Rebirth Of Cool

For most of my adult life, the city of Beirut, indeed much of Lebanon was a war torn, bomb pocked shadow of it's former, glamourous self. Beirut was, at one time the Monte Carlo of the eastern Mediterranean. The city and much of Lebanon has undergone a renaissance and has recaptured the zeitgeist of earlier times. Take a look at May Douak's breathtaking 19th century villa, photographed for Architectural Digest.

 via From The Right Bank

In Her Cups

Last weekend was Alumni Weekend at our kids' school. Not being alums ourselves, we ordinarily don't think much of it, but something in the weekly newsletter caught my wife's eye. There was going to be a talk by an alumnae, an artist, who'd somehow gotten onto Wendy's radar screen. We decided to head down to Germantown Friends last Saturday to hear Gwyneth Leech talk about her current project, a wonderful, whimsical and serendipitous collection of hand painted paper coffee cups. Until recently the ever-growing cup project was displayed in the prow of the Flatiron Building at the junction of Broadway, Fifth Avenue and 23rd Street. She'd gotten a terrific write-up in the NY Times. Like many of the alums of GFS that I've known, (my mother and uncle among them) Gwyneth was warm, gracious and articulate as she fleshed out her CV for the audience, and gave us the background on her cup project and a fascinating church restoration in Scotland.

Gwyneth Leech in the 'prow' of the Flatiron Building

What I'm Listening To Now

Continuing the small world and Spanish theme from the previous post, if you haven't checked out the band 'I'm From Barcelona', actually a Swedish collective, your missing something sweet...

check out Treehouse by I'm From Barcelona