Artists to Investigate: Melody Gardot

My friend Susan told me to check out Melody Gardot and now I've fallen in love with her latest album. This interview gives a little tease. Enjoy.

To put a little Spring in your step...

Some gratuitous shots from a flower market in Hong Kong. (Which has it all over the one in Shenzhen. I definitely haven't seen any peonies or jasmine at the one near our apartment. Just lilies, roses and carnations.) It made me very jealous. Life in Hong Kong is gooooood.

Photo Essay: Hong Kong Bird Market

We spent last weekend in Hong Kong with our new friends Amy and Erik and they went out of their way to show us the highlights of this great cosmopolitan city. One of our first stops was the Bird Market.



There is lots to buy at this market, but many bird enthusiasts bring their feathered friends along to get "air". Sometimes you'll even see old men "walking" their birds still safe in their cages.



Every sort of bird paraphernalia is available. These porcelain food bowls are much more elegant than their plastic Pet Co counterparts in the U.S.



There was also a stunning array of beautiful cages, though Amy told us about a friend who went to great lengths to hand carry one back to her beloved American bird only to have him chew through the bars like they were suet.



I think there is something quite sad about caging a creature that can fly, but these would look quite beautiful filled with orchids, don't you think?



The guidebooks all say that the value of the bird has nothing to do with its appearance, but instead with its song. Lovely thought, but I do wonder what the criteria are.



The most inspiring color combinations!They just take your breath away. I remember in Africa we saw a lot of Bee Catchers and they literally looked like flying jewels with those shocking colors.




Creepy crawly treats for these prized pets.



I only got a quick glance, but I could swear the middle cage there is carved from Ivory. Something tells me this little market had a bit of a contra banned underbelly...

Miss B's Bangle Bracelet Makeover

I bought this bangle bracelet at Anthropologie a few years ago. I love the look and feel of the stores and catalogues, but I've long felt that the quality of the product just isn't there. This bracelet was in the $100 range and the faux pearls had become scratched and peeled. So I took it to Luo Hu market to have it repaired.



They have a dazzling array of baubles, mostly pearls, coral and crystals, which they will string for you while you wait.



The choosing is fun, but the bargaining is definitely not.



I treated myself to a few other baubles; those pearl cluster rings reminded me of sea anemones and only cost about $4 U.S dollars. I also bought a pair of cuff links for Eric made from mahjong tiles.



The finished product doesn't look much different, but feels much heavier and will last longer. Total cost? $12 U.S Dollars. Hooray!

Crochet at the Beach? Why not!

I recently joined the Etsy blogger's street team, and this month's featured blog is A Cozy Life. While browsing through her Etsy shop, I realized that crocheted items are often unfairly relegated to the winter months. Just because it's hot outside doesn't mean you can't enjoy a little crochet right this minute. (Just don't wear them all at once to avoid the death-by-yarn-look.) Here are my five summer crochet picks:



Ultra sexy white crochet bikini top and bottom from Verao.



I also love the idea of using recycled plastic shopping bags to crochet a funky, sturdy bag like this one from Cara Taylor.



Or this gorgeously crafted bag from Coumba. What careful stitches!



And this nautical striped lovely from Crafty Kathi just screams "BEACH BAG!" Think of everything you could fit in that! Old habits die hard, I suppose.



An adorable cover up from Funkie Fresh. (Nice styling on that photo, wouldn't you say? Makes me want to head to the beach immediately.)

Pipecleaner Parade: Audrey

These little ladies are evolving and I'm not sure if it is still fair to call them Ballerinas. I'm not sure what they are, (or how to market them) but I love making them and I can't seem to stop.



While I was working on this one I kept flashing back to the scene in Funny Face where Audrey Hepburn descends the grand staircase in the Louvre in that wildly glamorous red Valentino dress and Fred Astaire keeps saying "Stop, Stop!" And she says "I don't want to stop! Take the picture!" Click here for more details.

Adventures in English: The Grocery Store

A trip to the grocery store is quite the experience. One gets a sense for what it might be like to be illiterate since one can't make sense of the labels. At first we entered sensory overload immediately upon entering the grocery store, but we've become slightly more accustomed to it over time.



These are fruits preserved with a very sulpheric tasting chemical. I think its interesting to note that these come in small jars, where in the U.S dehydrated fruit would almost always come in a resealable bag. No doubt some Apricot Executive could explain how this small difference illustrates the profound cultural divide between East and West, but I have no guesses.



As always, a large selection of dehydrated fish/poultry feet available for your snacking pleasure. I especially like the packaging that is transparent so that you can see the fish strips in the girl's belly. Nice touch.



And who couldn't use some "Brain Stronger Capsules"?



Or perhaps this, er, stuff (?) purported to be "Essence of Chicken with Angelica hide-donkey glue". Sounds delightful, and fits right into the Chinese theory that if it tastes bad, it probably makes you beautiful.

Tapioca DeLITE

I don't know where my endless love of tapioca comes from, because it wasn't something my mom cooked while I was growing up. I hadn't even tried it until I was in high school. But it was love at first creamy bubbly spoonful.

I've been smuggling boxes of instant tapioca in my suitcase and hoarding them like gold until I discovered a bin full of what looked suspiciously like raw tapioca at the grocery store. I bought some (though it later turned out to be Sago, tapioca's close cousin) and e-mailed my mother in law for her favorite recipe. The soaking is key, otherwise these little buggers just don't get soft enough. I'm also experimenting with a chocolate version by adding 1/4 to 1/2 cup of good coco and almond extract instead of vanilla. YUM!

1/2 cup small pearl tapioca
2 1/2 cups milk
1/4 tsp. salt
1/2 cup sugar (Momma D uses Splenda for her low calorie version)
2 eggs, separated (and she only uses the whites)
1 tsp. vanilla

1. Soak tapioca in 2 cups of room temperature water overnight. Drain water.
2. In double boiler, (I haven't got one of these in China, but a regular pot will do just fine as long as you stir stir stir to prevent scalding) Heat milk until just warmed. Add salt and tapioca. Continue heating till small bubbles appear at sides of pan. Cover, turn heat to very low and cook for one hour. Make sure that milk mixture does not simmer or boil.
3. Separate egg whites from yolk. Beat egg yolk and sugar together until light yellow in color. Add a little of the egg mixture to the hot milk mixture, stirring constantly. Place the double boiler over medium heat and cook until tapioca mixture is very thick, about 15 minutes.
4. Beat egg whites until stiff. Slowly fold the egg whites into the hot tapioca mixture. Stir in vanilla, serve warm or chilled.

Makes 6-8 servings

Take Five with Queen

Go out and Find Somebody to Love this weekend. (Preferably someone with gigantic hair and a slinky white sequined bodysuit who can sing like these gents...)

Adventures in English: Public Park Edition

If the nasty thorns on this tree aren't enough to keep you from pestering it...



...then this sign certainly will. (Who wants to incur the disdain of others? Not me!)



I think it would be a great tragedy to have good English translations in China. You would loose sweetly muddled sentiments like this one. "Pick up your trash." just doesn't have the same rhythm, does it?



"Is apt to have a fickle, uneasy and gloomy heart when living in the boisterous city and a noisy world with scene of debauchery, so we are longing for a peaceful site where we can relax and enjoy ourselves and want to have a mind of easiness, concinnity and tenderness and wish to listen to the murmurings and aspirations of others and share with others mutually. This is why this garden is designed...Meanwhile, plants are selected carefully and the Crepe-myrtle is taken as the essential variety and supported with bamboo, musa, wild hemp palm and sweet Osmanthus to as to arrange the entire space properly and to create many pleasing views such as enjoyment of forestry music and mimosa pond and raining on musa."

Mr. Strunk would have a conniption fit, but I find it all very charming. I very much doubt any of our park signs are translated into Chinese, correctly or otherwise...

Rhetorical Question: Are the Chinese excited to host the Olympic Games?

Shenzhen is 1300 miles from Beijing as the crow flies. These people were all waiting to catch a glimpse of the Olympic torch as it passes through Shenzhen. This stifling, crowded street was as close as most will ever come to the games themselves.




This crowd is just a teeny-tiny-toothpick-tidbit-taste of what Beijing will be like. I'm not usually a nervous person, but the sheer size and exuberance of this crowd gave me pause. We were packed in so tightly that we couldn't see a thing except the sweaty backs of the herd of people in front of us. All I kept thinking was no way out. No Way Out! EEK! I may need a stash of Xanax to make it through the actual games...



I consoled myself with the knowledge that at the Games we will have tickets with assigned seats, a destination, and a plan whereas on this street in Shenzhen there was complete mayhem. Every tiny man for himself. I'm quite certain that the vast majority of people saw exactly what we saw: the back of other people's heads as they hopped up and down in the vain hope of getting a glimpse of something, anything, even vaguely Olympic. A great wave of excitement passed through the crowd, lots of cheering and general hopping, but it was nothing more than a giant Samsung Float making the most of the vast money it spent to become an official 2008 Olympic Sponsor.



The solution for a few brave or foolhardy souls was to climb into the trees and onto the lamp posts. Once one fellow had successfully completed this feat, his friends began to join him and things began to sway dangerously. I couldn't help but think of Zacchaeus, with whom I have always felt kinship as a short person.

Ultimately, we decided that we weren't going to be able to see a thing and that our best plan of action was to get back on the Subway before the mass exodus began.

What was so thrilling about this experience was the joy and excitement that Chinese people feel for this event. It means so much to them to have their country recognized and admired on the world stage. Perhaps the struggle and poverty of the very recent past (and present, in many places)make this moment all the sweeter for those who have survived the difficulties. This is a moment to celebrate China's progress and hopes for the future, and no one here in Shenzhen is going to let that moment pass them by.

Mangosteen!

This wild and crazy fruit is the most delicious exotic fruit I've ever tried. Once you get past it's suspiciously garlicky appearance, the taste is incredibly sweet with a slightly tart edge. It reminds me a bit of a very sweet rhubarb pie. Yum!

A Poem I did not write about Priorities

"Advice to Myself" by Louise Erdrich, from Original Fire: Selected and New Poems.


Leave the dishes.
Let the celery rot in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator
and an earthen scum harden on the kitchen floor.
Leave the black crumbs in the bottom of the toaster.
Throw the cracked bowl out and don't patch the cup.
Don't patch anything. Don't mend. Buy safety pins.
Don't even sew on a button.
Let the wind have its way, then the earth
that invades as dust and then the dead
foaming up in gray rolls underneath the couch.
Talk to them. Tell them they are welcome.
Don't keep all the pieces of the puzzles
or the doll's tiny shoes in pairs, don't worry
who uses whose toothbrush or if anything
matches, at all.
Except one word to another. Or a thought.
Pursue the authentic-decide first
what is authentic,
then go after it with all your heart.
Your heart, that place
you don't even think of cleaning out.
That closet stuffed with savage mementos.
Don't sort the paper clips from screws from saved baby teeth
or worry if we're all eating cereal for dinner
again. Don't answer the telephone, ever,
or weep over anything at all that breaks.
Pink molds will grow within those sealed cartons
in the refrigerator. Accept new forms of life
and talk to the dead
who drift in though the screened windows, who collect
patiently on the tops of food jars and books.
Recycle the mail, don't read it, don't read anything
except what destroys
the insulation between yourself and your experience
or what pulls down or what strikes at or what shatters
this ruse you call necessity.

Bamboo...Bedding?

I've described the deep Chinese conviction that pain is healthy before, but here is some further evidence for you non-believers.



Shenzhen weather is unbearably hot and sticky for most of the year. My Chinese friends tell me that this bamboo bedding is cooler to sleep on.I plan to never confirm this statement. These look suspiciously like those wooden beaded chiropractic car seat covers that old hippies have in their VW buses to ease chronic back pain.



Can you imagine trying to sleep on this? It calls to mind the hair shirts and nail beds of 14th century monks. Buddhism doesn't allow for early Christianity's deep, mournful meditations on guilt and subsequent penances, but I've come to the conclusion that Chinese medicine fills the void quite handily. Apparently this belief in the power of suffering is international.



I was also struck by the sheer number of these things. They were planning to sell a lot of them. And it wasn't just for the bed surface. There were also pillowcase covers in case you aren't quite miserable enough. Go figure.

Congratulations Bro!

You did it! Wish we could have been there to celebrate with you. Here are some words of advice from mr. e.e cummings.

"To be nobody-but-yourself—in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else—means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting."

Go out and fight the good fight my man. Congratulations.

A Peek into my Sketchbook

I thought another little peek into my sketchbook might be fun. I've been enjoying the freedom of doing whatever I like, no matter how silly or anti-FINE-art it might be.



More fun with yarn as hair...this time its Rapunzel.



While we were in Vegas we spend a lot of time staring at a giant salt water aquarium filled with funny fish that were exactly this ridiculous looking. I love how they looked like cartoons instead of flesh and blood.



Some photo album ideas and one magnificent beetle. As long as they aren't in my house I'm really quite enchanted with insects.

Photo Essay: Canton Fair

During the infamous case of The Tainted Chinese Toothpaste, my inbox flooded with e-mails from concerned friends and family. "Are we too late? Have you already dropped dead?" While I was pleased so many people were concerned about my dental hygiene regime, I felt a huge disconnect between their perceptions of China and mine. With so many products coming from China, that one shipment of tainted toothpaste seems quite tiny indeed.

Every imaginable trinket is made here. I mean absolutely everything. (Which makes my difficulties finding a simple hand held kitchen mixer all the more baffling. I know they make the damn things here, but apparently, no one else wants to buy one.) Printed paper party napkins (say that ten times fast!) hand painted wooden easter egg ornaments, marabou feather trimmed Mardi Gras hats, toilet brush stands, Nascar clocks, reproductions of Victorian apothecary jars, Dora the Explorer jewelery boxes, even the paper shopping bags from Neiman Marcus are all Made In China.

Every single day, each of these items is packed, stacked and folded alongside ten thousand identical brethren into giant metal cargo containers which stack neatly atop one another and later fit snugly onto the bed of a flatbed truck. Look around you next time you are on the highway. All those semi-trucks are stuffed with goods from China. Waves and waves and waves of things are departing from the shores of China every single second. It is absolutely staggering. And a huge number of orders for all these things are first placed at the Canton Fair.



Railroad employees inexplicably marching in formation. Though I'm not sure why they do this, it seems to be routine. The guards at our apartment compound do the same thing every morning.



Ever wonder where Michael and JoAnn get all their prefab wooden do-dahs? Wonder no more.



The other ten percent of Easter decor probably comes from Mexico.



Ditto for the Buddhas you see at Pier 1 and World Market.



Trade show attendees are a unique breed of tourist. (I especially like this American guy who was trying to get out of my shot, not realizing his dazed stare was key to the image.)



This fellow was also trying to get in on the trade show action; hawking animal hides to bewildered foreigners. I saw a dozen others selling fur with a luggage trolley exactly like this one. Imagine them meeting out in the countryside to plan their own mini trade show visit. "Hey guys, let's head down to Guangzhou for the Canton Fair. I bet we'll make a killing!"



I liked the absurdity of a guard being guarded by velvet ropes. He looked like he was a figure at Madame Tussuad's.



A good day for Ronald.



Swag; the lifeblood of the trade show attendee. It doesn't matter how cheap and/or useless it is, "I'll take it!"



More goods shipping out via train.