06 November 2009
Fall Delights
Staples at a Midwestern Thanksgiving dinner table? At our house in Wisconsin: turkey basted according to a timing method made by my engineer-father, champagne for the adults to sip while waiting, broccoli/cauliflower and cheese-whiz bake, canned cranberries, mashed potatoes with gravy, green beans, butter on French bread, and pumpkin pie. For a saucy tale of secret ingredients at the holiday table, read cultural producer Anastasia Ashman's post here.
Here in Türkiye, I do what I can to recreate our meal, but it is never quite the same (though I've become much better at making gravy than I used to be!). I tend to throw in some healthier alternatives, but canned cranberries have never disappointed me, despite how unreal they look coming out of the can, ridges in the cranberry mold shaped like the aluminum can. Food and fall go hand-in-hand for me because the kitchen seems to come to life, me and the kitchen less sweaty and grumbling than in the summer when cold soups and salads are staples. In the fall, rich flavors mingle with our expectations for sharing meals together, sheltered against the cold. What keeps you fed body and soul during the fall? Afiyet olsun!
05 November 2009
The non-binary life
When an emerging American artist moves to Turkey and starts a family, she navigates new definitions of career and home life. What does that look like? Come join the discussion on art + domesticity cohabitating at expat+HAREM where I am a guest poster on art, nesting, and being an expatriate.
04 November 2009
I'm a fun-loving foreigner who likes French roast
Whenever I buy my over-priced whole-bean bag of coffee from the world's largest coffee chain, I encounter polite smiles and a friendly greeting by name from the baristas. Why? Because I am a fun-loving foreigner who likes French roast. I do enjoy other coffee strengths, though I rarely dip into mild or medium; however, I am known as Rose Hanım (Mrs. Rose) French roast lover and so as not to disappoint anybody, I buy it week after week.
One night coming back from Istanbul after my art opening, I ran into the cafe with chocolate unknowingly all over my face (because of course it is dark in the car and I can't see my face) and I try to ask for French Roast coffee beans to take home. I'm over-exaggerating my pronunciation, practically singing "Fr-eee-nch" to get my point across because the whole time the barista is backing away slightly. Back in the car I notice my face with fright while my husband chuckles and takes a sip of his mocha. It took me a long time to recover from that experience, exactly one week later when the coffee beans ran out.
Most recently, a different barista exclaimed to me, "You REALLY like coffee, don't you?" She laughed. "You come here a lot." I was taken aback, a little embarrassed. Was I flaunting my coffee obsession? This is Turkey, after all, where displays of excess seem frowned upon. Yes, yes, I do love coffee. Nescafe makes my soul cry out in pain. I wondered, though, is making your customers feel ashamed of their purchase a good marketing strategy? Mid-way through opening the vacuum-sealed pouch, she asked me if I wanted it ground and I said, "No, I have a grinder," to which I got a blank stare.
Next time you wonder where I am, be sure to check the coffee bean display where I am crouched by the extra-strong roasts grabbing 3 bags at a time. Whole bean. Because I have a coffee grinder.
One night coming back from Istanbul after my art opening, I ran into the cafe with chocolate unknowingly all over my face (because of course it is dark in the car and I can't see my face) and I try to ask for French Roast coffee beans to take home. I'm over-exaggerating my pronunciation, practically singing "Fr-eee-nch" to get my point across because the whole time the barista is backing away slightly. Back in the car I notice my face with fright while my husband chuckles and takes a sip of his mocha. It took me a long time to recover from that experience, exactly one week later when the coffee beans ran out.
Most recently, a different barista exclaimed to me, "You REALLY like coffee, don't you?" She laughed. "You come here a lot." I was taken aback, a little embarrassed. Was I flaunting my coffee obsession? This is Turkey, after all, where displays of excess seem frowned upon. Yes, yes, I do love coffee. Nescafe makes my soul cry out in pain. I wondered, though, is making your customers feel ashamed of their purchase a good marketing strategy? Mid-way through opening the vacuum-sealed pouch, she asked me if I wanted it ground and I said, "No, I have a grinder," to which I got a blank stare.
Next time you wonder where I am, be sure to check the coffee bean display where I am crouched by the extra-strong roasts grabbing 3 bags at a time. Whole bean. Because I have a coffee grinder.
02 November 2009
Drawing from life
I've been fumbling around the idea for awhile that the things we see online get digested so quickly. So I'm posing a little challenge to myself that for an unspecified period of time I draw the things I love and want to share. I've started doing this already. Gretchen Wagoner's print here, is an example of the direction I'm moving. So is the black tea latte I made last week. I may throw in some photos from time to time, still, and my illustrations will certainly use mixed media. Covertly, it means I can justify hoarding Moleskine watercolor notebooks. This also means that if you want to share something with me - something you love or work you do, that time and mutual interest permitting, I'll do a little drawing and post it here. It may take me longer to do it, maybe fewer posts, but that's part of the experiment. I hope you'll enjoy! What do you think? xo
The Working Proof: Gretchen Wagoner
The artist and printmaker Anna Corpron, co-founder of The Working Proof and part of Sub-studio along with Sean Auyeung, emailed me to let me know Gretchen Wagoner's print of mating Hera buckmoths is available on TWP's site. I've been a longtime fan of Gretchen Wagoner and am delighted to see her work there. I find her drawings really engaging and ethereal. TWP puts heart and soul into creativity, charity, and community as their masthead says, and 15% of the $40 gross sale of Gretchen's gorgeous print goes to the Jane Goodall Institute. I love this merger of art and goodwill and the element of collaboration. It also nixes the notion that art doesn't help people and is simply an indulgence. Check out their artists and charities; the selection changes weekly. You can find more of Gretchen's work here and on her blog and follow TWP on Twitter or read their blog.
{image above an interpretation of TWP's website and Gretchen's print. The real print is much more luscious!}
{image above an interpretation of TWP's website and Gretchen's print. The real print is much more luscious!}
Labels:
art,
good deeds
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