Slow Time

In August, people who can leave New Orleans for at least a few days. The constant heat and humidity, relentless even at night, wears on you. You have to slow down. I've always liked this chance to visit friends who are still in town, drink a lot of cold beverages, sit on the river, ride around at night sweating. Also it gives me a legitimate reason to sit inside for hours and do the things I have been meaning to do like finally post images of postcards I printed in Italy. Also I have been sorting through my secret stash and posting things on etsy for sale, including a deal for subscribing to Keep Writing. Until September 10th, you can get nine months of postcards for the price of six.

Maybe you are unimpressed by this since I haven't sent a postcard since I left Barcelona (approximately half a life ago). However, I was happy to visit John Fitzgerald at his shop. He allowed me to print the text for this month's postcard and may even let me back so I can print one more Louisiana postcard. As you will see, I did not print the image side of this one, but bought 140 postcards while in Europe, mostly in Italy, almost all of them of places I visited. Some are awesome photo collages of major sites, some are weird light pre-photoshop fancies...you will have to wait and see what you get. They will go in the mail today.

It isn't all work for me. Yesterday we dropped the van off uptown to hopefully relieve it of some of its troubles before we drive it across country. We biked bike slowly, stopping for iced coffee, racing when we thought it was about to downpour, and stopping to admire what is easily the best part of the Bywater Art Lofts, gates made by my friend Rachel at Red Metal. If it sounds like New Orleans is trying to woo me to stay, don't worry, a giant cockroach flew into head last night while riding around. Thank you for the sense of equilibrium, New Orleans.

More About the Ladies

Since returning from the Ladies of Letterpress Conference, I have been excited to start working on new projects. Because I can't bust out all my supplies right now, it means I have been trying to update my etsy site and make more books while searching for a press to borrow here in town so I can print postcards. I am not frustrated at all because every evening the sun sets on the lavender shed behind the house and I escape for a ride through the neighborhood, usually running into at least one person I know.

I promised more information about the conference. There was a screening of "Proceed and Be Bold," a documentary about Amos Kennedy. Kennedy and the director of the film were in attendance to answer questions and provoke the audience. It was a bit of metaphorical shaking for those in attendance but welcome by most. Many panels addressed business concerns for the many small business owners. My friend Lisa, of ilfant press was on a panel about exploring possibilities of handset type. I took three pages of notes including a reminder to ask her for her slides demonstrating some of the techniques. She says she will post some of them on her website soon.

Back at home, I found some knitting Matt Henderson gave me last winter at LSU which I dunked in paper pulp. Not all of the experiments were successful but I will add it to the collection of tricks accumulating in my brain.

Ladies Road Trip!

I know, I was in New Orleans for less than ten days and off again, visiting a pile of friends all in the middle of moving. Why would I leave in New Orleans in the sleepy summertime? For a Ladies of Letterpresss Conference. I missed last years and it was a good excuse to sit for hours in a car with two wonderful ladies of Blackbird Letterpress. First stop: the giant inflatable peach in north Georgia for fresh peaches, fried pies, and hot boiled peanuts.

We also researched some roadside attractions by stopping at Tallulah Falls for postcards and a view of mountains (Louisiana is so flat! The mountain air is so drinkable. Louisiana air is climbable, that is, dense enough to climb.) Also, the Great Wallenda crossed the falls in the '70s. If you are on Instagram, find Blackbird Letterpress for a photo of me reliving the Great Wallenda's feat via plywood.

We admired the blown glass handicrafts and continued onto Asheville.

The Conference was an incredible accumulation of smart, creative ladies who love their presses. We had a chance to tour a few local print shops. Our first stop was Mink Press, who had recently moved into a backyard studio and had a baby and was still willing to host us in her backyard, offering edible treats and artist trading cards to inspire other letterpress printers to begin trading the tiny cards.

We stopped at Asheville Bookworks, a community printshop with classes in letterpress and papermaking and 7 Ton Press, a collective of printers including Beth Schaibel, who I met at Penland 4 years ago and was happy to meet again since I had been admiring her work all over Asheville.

Our last stop was Hand Cranked Letterpress, a printshop located in an exquisitely decorated home with a tempting pool. Of course they used to live in New Orleans, where beautiful clutter is recognized as display of unique collections. Yes, there was a disco ball in the press room. All this on the first day! More tomorrow.

This is Not the Culture Shock I Was Looking For

Espresso in the morning, now over ice, my suitcase unpacked, reorganized, repacked. The temporary housing situation continues though now I am reunited with the Storage Unit of Stuff. Unfortunately, no matter how carefully I thought I packed months ago, I am still culling shirts I never wear, shoes that don't fit,and kitchen utensils I don't want to move. Though I wake in the morning and do this for a while, I am still a bit on vacation mode. Ride a bike, listen to the radio, nap, visit friends.

Or pick elderberries from the bush that hides the door to the house and make elderberry cordial. We drank it last night, a tablespoon mixed with a glass of white wine while playing Scrabble. Incidentally, I had my highest scoring game ever. That might not be related. This was supposed to be a post to tell you I have books for sale, that postcards are on their way. Instead, this is to let you know I am putting the lag in jet lag. I am leaving for a short Baton Rouge visit and then a week in Asheville for the Ladies of Letterpress Conference, to talk to all sorts of printers about their techniques and experiences. When I get back, I should have postcards for you. Of course, I am still moving to California in a few weeks, and despite my intentions, I suspect my ambitious work plans will be subdued by "an uncooperative reality.*" While my vacation culture mode continues, I have these two photos for you. The first is a sign in an alley in Venice, one of the most magically picturesque places ever because there is no place like it. Second is from Milan, a detail of the only remaining MAC architecture projects.

See you in a week! *did you listen to this weekends' This American Life story about meeting Piers Anthony. This is what I missed in Italy.

Arrivederci!

Afternoon thunderstorms are the best times for napping in New Orleans. But, being home most of the day unpacking and re packing, while job hunting and catching up with friends, thunderstorm time means I sit and show you the last bit of photos from my trip.

Our last days in Italy were spent in and near Milan. I brought Andy to the duomo to climb to the top. Despite the heat and our aversion to stairs (did I tell you about the time we walked the three hour down hill trek to Amalfi and couldn't hardly walk for the following three days?), I assured Andy it was worth it and, luckily, it was.

The day before we left we took the train to Lake Como for some cool breezes. I went there in February but this time it was warm enough to swim. We also took a ferry across the lake, which made for more scenic views.

We landed in New York the next day, tired and hot, after many delays. Passport control was as polite as you expect in NY, and despite great plans, we hardly left the neighborhood. No photos of New York, but finally I will start printing postcards again, making books probably staying home for a bit. Well, once I get back from the Ladies of Letterpress Conference next week. Yikes.

Winding Down

Ok, so I am writing this from a friend's apartment in Brooklyn. I am not sure if I am still jet-lagged so much as just tired. It is grey and drizzly which is fine with me as I try to sort out the things I have been carrying for the past few months and what I need to carry farther. All the way to California. But first, here is a little bit about how far east we went. Trieste is on the farthest edge of Italy, surrounded by Slovenia and water. The coffee is good, the language is mixed and cultural identity is complicated. On the Adriatic, a port town with hills and castles, shopping and a main piazza that faces the sea, I wasn't exactly sure what I expected and I was surprised. Additionally, we found a vending machine that would sell us one euro cans of beer at ten o'clock at night. Out travels were winding down.

oh captain my...

sunset on the water

menu at zoefood, vegetarian cafe

across the street

first night back in milan

Saying Yes to Adventure

We were about to head to Florance to return to Il Vegetariano when a friend of a friend offered us to stay in a villa in Tuscany with his parents. This resulted in one of the two craziest transportation experiences of the trip. The other I will tell you about later. For now, know that we rode the fast train from Rome to Florence, with two other travelling couples and one angry lady shouting in Italian as we boarded. We ignored our seat assignments and wisely took refuge in the nearest seats. In Florence, we ignored Google's directions to wait for a train and got on the first train towards Livorno, unsure how to navigate the next two steps, two bus rides. I wasn't even sure we boarded the right train, since we rushed from the closest gelateria trying to cool our burning heads. On board, about to leave, I confirmed the train's direction with the man next to me, a sunburnt, smiling, pony-tailed fella who reminded me of a certain movie character. Later, I realized he was reading a book whose title may have been "we are brothers in time and space". For now, we traveled towards the sea, leaving the famous Firenze cupola to see another time. Meanwhile, a girl from Chicago sat with us. I imagined she was finishing a summer art class in Florence, perhaps even with my own professor from home who had just finished a class there. Despite the families standing in the aisles, she quickly got up in search of a better seat. A man traveling with the families sat down and began friendly conversation with my friendly neighbor. The families were from southern India. Our friend began talking about yoga, specifically mind yoga. And indian food. That fellow left to sit with his wife and baby, replaced by a young boy with pretty green eyes. He asked politely but without self-consciousness where we were going. All this was viewed by a man across the aisle whose arm was in a sling. I thought it was prosthetic until I noticed the long fingernails and realized it was instead was a painfully swollen limb. He seemed understandably unhappy the entire ride. Our miserable train arrived in the city of the Vespa, and our friendly set neighbor offered us a ride up to the villa where our friend awaited our arrival. Knowing it would spare us two long uncertain bus trips, we accepted and twenty minutes later we disrupted Lari's main Piazza with our rowdiness. The ride had been fast, dust and spotted with conversation. Vocabulary was limited but we knew that the driver worked in a vineyard and rightfully believes Tuscany is beautiful. At every stomach-churning turn he would exclain "la vista!" leaving us to appreciate the view as he sped on.   Minutes later, our friend arrived and we were whisked to the villa for homemade vegan pizza and long talks by the pool. In the morning, the light in our room looked like this:

Then we went to Venice where everything is picturesque. We managed to find enough empty streets for breathing room and took lots of photos. Here are a few.