Seen in Atlanta - October 9, 2010

The beautiful chandelier at the Tabernacle.


A giant bird and a pretty woman at the Eyedrum.

Butterfly Luck

While walking in Oakland Cemetery on Sunday afternoon, I came across a plot filled with butterfly bushes. Hundreds of butterflies and giant bumblebees flit through the air, drinking from one flower and then the next. Here are three of my luckiest photos from these moments.

Seen in Atlanta - first days of September

On Wylie Street in Cabbagetown, and women's bathroom in the back of the Earl.

Seen in Atlanta - July 23

Crucified bunny and baby, corner of Dekalb and Krog Street.


Back of the ladies restroom door at 97 Estoria.

Summertime Skies

Morning sky over Union Station, Washington DC.


A thunderstorm forming over the Georgia State Capitol.


Light burst over Courtland Street, Atlanta.

Sky lights

I am obsessed with light in the sky. Also, I'm going to have to become more covert with my photography while driving now that Georgia has its texting ban in place.

The Charging Atlanta Sky

In my tenth year in this city, the stunning Spring Sky of Atlanta still compels me to take pictures while driving.


At Memorial and Boulevard.


At Six Feet Under.

Ashley's Charmed Chalk

I love the street that I have called my home for the last five years. From being the setting for some of my favorite sunsets to my frequent hawk visitors to Carwash's whistling, my life on this south Grant Park street has been charmed.

For the last couple months the lovely young lady that lives next door to me has been using my sidewalk as canvas for her chalk murals and messages. I absolutely beam each time I pull into my driveway and see that there is new rainbow dust sprawling the expanse of my house and rush out of my car to get a closer look at her latest art.

Ashley's accuracy in message choices is uncanny. Returning to Atlanta after a trip to Chicago I was greeted with "Home Sweet Home". After a particularly rough day at the Capitol her chalk encouraged me to "don't worry, be happy". The last night of the legislative session my sidewalk was emblazoned with "SARA YOU ROCK" in block letters. And sometimes it'll just be loopy swirls around hearts and skulls. Yesterday's message was lovely, and complete with details like the earth, a banana peel and her entire family's hand-prints- her mother told me she insisted they all make their mark:



I can be an absolute cynic and occasionally indulge in intellectual snobbery but my god, there is something about a message from a 5th grader that The World Is In Our Hands that completely melts my dark little heart. When I got home today I noticed that Ashley added another part to the message right in front of my front door:



I am so glad to be neighbors. Thank you Ashley, for being such a dependable and delightful sidewalk cheerleader.

(As an aside I just have to note my deep joy and wonder that after months of blog silence, both my lovely sister and I publish new pieces within a day of each other)

Heavy Metal Saved My Life

Mastodon and Dethklok played at the Tabernacle in Atlanta last Thursday - it was an unbelievable show. My only regret was that I went to the right side of the stage so I couldn't see Brent Hinds (who was on the left) hardly at all. Nonetheless, I managed to take a few METAL pictures:





And I shot a video of Mastdon especially for my sister who was feeling a little jealous that night:

Goodbye, Nico

I am so sad to learn that Nico the beautiful Beluga Whale, has died. I visited Nico and his sisters at the Georgia Aquarium so many times and shot this video of him during our visit on Ela's birthday:



Nico was the most playful of the three belugas, always twirling and diving and seemed like he was smiling and waving at us. The Aquarium had moved him and his sisters to Texas while they built the new dolphin exhibit- he died there. He is the third Atlanta beluga to pass away- I have written about Gasper and Marina previously.

My heart is heavy with the knowledge that we won't get to see that sweet and magnificent creature again. Here's a favorite picture from the Atlanta Journal Constitution to remember him:

A Visit to Oakland Cemetery on Dia de Muertes

Today was the first time I have ever visited Oakland Cemetery on Day of the Dead. I thought of my beautiful grandmothers as we strolled through the park at sunset. The full moon was floating above and the red sunbeams shined through the trees. I smiled as I left a sugar skull by my favorite headless woman. Thanks to Raoul and his lovely visitors for inspiring today's walk!

I'm Super Human for You - the Flaming Lips visit Atlanta

When you come to a party at my house, you can count on there being a big ass spread of delicious food, the cocktails will be flowing, good music will be playing and there probably will be (at least) some glitter-based decorations. Expect no less at my house. I was raised right by the Queen Hostess, the lovely Louise Totonchi.

Similarly to my party philosophy, the Flaming Lips know how to throw a rock n roll show. From the moment the first note was strummed at Chastain Park tonight, confetti, smoke and balloons filled the air. A quick glance around me revealed dozens of giggling, joyful people awaiting excitedly their chance to hit one of the fifty balloons up in the air. Oh and there was even a man in a Space Bubble:



Flaming Lips frontman Wayne Coyne projected love and joy from the stage, declaring that despite the heavy Georgia air in August, "I'd wear a polar bear jacket, I'm super human for you." And he wouldn't have stood out at all in such a fur- the stage was filled with costumed lovlies, boy and girl bunnies, King Kong (who wielded Wayne on his shoulders for a whole song), a giant butterfly, a giant catfish- all dancing nonstop. An ingenious feature was a video camera mounted on Wayne's microphone; watch this footage of Fight Test both on stage and with the mic cam view projected behind the band:



I should mention that the Lips know how to treat their party guests. From the moment tickets were bought, we received a link for a free download of three songs from their yet to be released album which included Covinced of the Hex, my highlight of tonight's show. A few days later a link was sent to three b-sides. And if that weren't enough, they also promise to send a link to a recording of the entire show we saw tonight. Nice hospitality!

It was a terrific show tonight. We were grateful that the sky waited until we were in our cars to open up and shower, but that the lightning didn't hold back its contribution to the spectacular light show.

Firebird

This is my most favorite new piece of street art:



I love it like I loved the Two-Headed Pegasus and of course, the Blah Girl. Its on Memorial near Boulevard and I'm hoping that the Wilderness Works people like it as much as I do. Otherwise, the Firebird won't be long for the world.

Rain Walk with Mica

It's been raining for days in Atlanta. Thunderstorms in the spring here make for some of the most amazing blooms and light in which to photograph them. During a break in the downpour this afternoon, Mica and I went for a Rain Walk in Grant Park. Here is what we saw.








I love this spot near the gazebo where old christmas trees are recycled. Each year you can watch the tall pile of dark greens break down and fade into reds, browns, chartruse.


We had never seen a tree that bloomed what looked like hydrangea blossoms that hung down like giant pom poms.






I had to take a pom pom home.

Their Hearts in Tipperary Wherever They Go- The POGUES in Atlanta

I never dreamed it would really happen. I've been told by countless boys over the many years who tried to convince me the they were bigger fans, far more knowledgeable than I, that it would never happen. I had missed my chance; I would never see The Pogues in all their glory- meaning with Shane MacGowan in the front.

Well boys, you were wrong. Never underestimate my unrelenting loyalty to the bands that are my soulmates. Not that my steadfastness brought about this strange, five-city US tour that paused in none other than my Atlanta, Georgia, but I'm still claiming it as my own. And my own doesn't begin to express what we were a part of at Monday night's show. I could almost cry.

Says Word Magazine:

Shane MacGowan is is unwell. In fact, he looks dead.

Hell, it's true. The poor man is in such bad shape and it is astonishing that he is still alive at the not-so-ripe old age of 52. I remember reading years ago about Sinead O'Connor turning him into the cops in an effort to curb his drug and alcohol use - please! - and the band has broken up with promises never to speak again countless times because of his self-destructive quest.

Apparently he has a handler, someone to watch over him and make sure he doesn't wander off and go missing- he is really and truly that broken a man. Says drummer Andrew Ranken, "He can perform when he's wasted if he wants to perform. " I've heard stories of him being rolled out in stage in a wheelchair, promptly vomiting and that was it. We made bets with the people next to us on how many songs he would make it through. The bets were just 3 and 5 songs- all made with smiles of understanding that we would happily accept whatever he could give.

They had what those in his inner circle refer to as "the cage" set up. It was a curtained in area on the side of the stage - which might be be compared to a makeshift kissing both at one of my parties - where Shane would retreat to every now and then when he needed a break.

But despite our indulgent pessimism- there he was on the stage for the entire show but for minor breaks. Shane MacGowan bold as day, bright as sun, hissing saliva as he sang having fallen from grace with God. And if you don't believe my account just listen to his scream at 55 seconds in:



THIS, was their second song. This land was always ours, was the proud land of our fathers; it belongs to us and them, not to any of the others. And their third was that sacred ballad The Broad Majestic Shannon. Shane sang of tears on our cheeks, the cross at Finnoe, and our hearts remaining in Tipperary. His plea to take his hand and dry our tears and forget our fears made me still, despite being surrounded by more than all the chaos you might expect in a sold out show of thousands of incredibly drunk men.

There was so much more that they did. The anthem that applies to Palestine and Iraq as much as it does Ireland, Thousands are Sailing was triumphant and heartbreaking: where we go we celebrate the land that makes us refugees. Lullaby of London, McGowan's equivalent to the Mahmoud Darwish's Under Siege was a blessing as it washed over us:

... May the ghosts that howled
Round the house at night
Never keep you from your sleep
May they all sleep tight
Down in hell tonight
Or where ever they may be...

...May the wind that blows from haunted graves
Never bring you misery
May the angels bright
Watch you tonight
And keep you while you sleep.

This is my dear friend Jay and I, Jameson whiskey in hand before the encore:



I felt stunned in this moment. Stunned that it really happened and I was there. How when I would tell this story I might nod my head in the way that my Uncle Michael in Ireland might while telling a story that was beyond belief. About how I never dreamed it but it really happened and I have proof. And how my heart remains with the lads that are THE POGUES.

In Like a Lion

1:43 am: Standstill traffic and pouring rain on Peachtree Street in Downtown Atlanta.


2:15 pm: Snow falls in large clumps from the sky covering already blooming bulbs.


3:30 pm: Snow builds and sticks as the sun starts to shine.


6:32 pm: Spectacular sunset after snowfall.

Dr. Joseph Lowery

God of our weary years, God of our silent tears, thou who has brought us thus far along the way, thou who has by thy might led us into the light, keep us forever in the path, we pray, lest our feet stray from the places, our God, where we met thee, lest our hearts, drunk with the wine of the world, we forget thee. Shadowed beneath thy hand may we forever stand -- true to thee, O God, and true to our native land.

We truly give thanks for the glorious experience we've shared this day. We pray now, O Lord, for your blessing upon thy servant, Barack Obama, the 44th president of these United States, his family and his administration. He has come to this high office at a low moment in the national and, indeed, the global fiscal climate. But because we know you got the whole world in your hand, we pray for not only our nation, but for the community of nations. Our faith does not shrink, though pressed by the flood of mortal ills.

For we know that, Lord, you're able and you're willing to work through faithful leadership to restore stability, mend our brokenness, heal our wounds and deliver us from the exploitation of the poor or the least of these and from favoritism toward the rich, the elite of these.

We thank you for the empowering of thy servant, our 44th president, to inspire our nation to believe that, yes, we can work together to achieve a more perfect union. And while we have sown the seeds of greed -- the wind of greed and corruption, and even as we reap the whirlwind of social and economic disruption, we seek forgiveness and we come in a spirit of unity and solidarity to commit our support to our president by our willingness to make sacrifices, to respect your creation, to turn to each other and not on each other.

And now, Lord, in the complex arena of human relations, help us to make choices on the side of love, not hate; on the side of inclusion, not exclusion; tolerance, not intolerance.

And as we leave this mountaintop, help us to hold on to the spirit of fellowship and the oneness of our family. Let us take that power back to our homes, our workplaces, our churches, our temples, our mosques, or wherever we seek your will.

Bless President Barack, First Lady Michelle. Look over our little, angelic Sasha and Malia.

We go now to walk together, children, pledging that we won't get weary in the difficult days ahead. We know you will not leave us alone, with your hands of power and your heart of love.

Help us then, now, Lord, to work for that day when nation shall not lift up sword against nation, when tanks will be beaten into tractors, when every man and every woman shall sit under his or her own vine and fig tree, and none shall be afraid; when justice will roll down like waters and righteousness as a mighty stream.

Lord, in the memory of all the saints who from their labors rest, and in the joy of a new beginning, we ask you to help us work for that day when black will not be asked to get back, when brown can stick around -- (laughter) -- when yellow will be mellow -- (laughter) -- when the red man can get ahead, man -- (laughter) -- and when white will embrace what is right.

Let all those who do justice and love mercy say amen.AUDIENCE: Amen!

REV. LOWERY: Say amen --

AUDIENCE: Amen!

REV. LOWERY: -- and amen.

AUDIENCE: Amen! (Cheers, applause.)

Have a Looky at my Christmas Cookies

I had a super Christmassy weekend- it was so fun accomplishing several items on my December To-Do list! The weekend started with seeing David Sedaris’ Santaland Diaries at the Horizon Theater. I laughed so hard- it's a great and fun show and the Atlanta cast is marvelous. I also made my winter-themed playlist.

The best part though was being invited to bake a million, okay a dozen, different kinds of Christmas cookies with my dear friend Sandy. It was a perfectly Christmassy Saturday in her and Jack's beautiful home. As we baked cookies, Jack and his daughter Katy put up their Christmas tree in the living room. Our soundtrack was the holiday albums of the divas: Dolly Parton, Better Midler and Diana Krall. It isn't Christmas until you hear Dolly sing "We Three Kings" I tell you!

We made Gingerbread men and women, my favorite being the three-eyed Alien Gingerman in the corner:


We made Jack's favorite macaroons and delicious wedding cookies (referred to as "Nut Balls" on Sandy's mom's recipe cards):


We made several kinds of nutty cookies, including these hazelnut cookies dipped in chocolate:



I laughed so hard the whole time I was decorating these Mafiosa Snowmen- one is Robert De Niro and the other is Joe Viterelli (a.k.a. Jelly from Analyze This):


But my favorite cookies of all are the Ginger Rosemary cookies:


Sweet and savory at once, and they smell like rosemary heaven. Enjoy the recipe- my Christmas Cookie gift to you!

Ginger Rosemary cookies

Ingredients:
2 1/4 cup all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons ground ginger
1 teaspoon baking soda
2 tablespoons dried rosemary
3/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
3/4 cup butter
1 cup sugar, plus more for dusting
1 egg
1/4 cup molasses

Directions:

Crush rosemary with a mortar and pestal or a bowl and the back end of a knife. YOu don't need to grind the rosemary, just break it into smaller pieces.

In a medium mixing bowl, combine flour, ginger, baking soda, cinnamon, rosemary and cloves. Set aside.

In a large mixing bowl beat butter with an electric mixer on low speed for 30 seconds. Gradually add the 1 cup of sugar; beat until fluffy. Add the egg and molasses; beat well. Stir dry mixture into egg mixture.

Shape dough into 1 1/2-inch balls (1 heaping tablespoon of dough each). Place about two tablespoons of sugar in a small bowl. Roll balls in the sugar and place on ungreased cookie sheets about 2 1/2 inches apart; add sugar to the bowl as needed.

Bake in a 350-degree oven about 10 minutes or until light brown but still puffed. (Do not overbake.) Let stand on cookie sheets for 2 minutes; transfer to a wire rack and let cool. Makes about 24 cookies.

A Charming Little Tree

Yesterday, I bought my first ever living Christmas tree. Ela and I had a lovely time decorating it last night and I am already in love with it:

In years past I would get a Poinsettia and decorate it for my home in Atlanta. Because I spend Christmas in Chicago every year it made sense not to have a tree. The tree at my parent's house is beautiful and filled with ornaments bearing their own stories and memories of our family. I was surprised that in my first tree in my home ever, that my little stories came by simply and that they were stories unique to my life in Atlanta.

In addition to several beautiful big and little birds that I have used on my poinsettia in the past, I have a portrait of my home that Ela painted the year I moved in here, a blue star garland from Mica, a cat from Tiffani sitting next to the tree and it all sits on a kuffiyeh from Mohammad.

Even though I've been struggling with a migraine all day, my charming little tree makes me smile each time my eyes drift its way.

Carwash Whistled Jingle Bells

There's a homeless man who has lived on my street for many more years than I have. He goes by the name Carwash. He rides his bicycle up and down the street and gets by doing odd jobs for my neighbors and I plus the help of the nearby church. Sometimes in the very early morning he whistles eerie but beautiful symphonies as he cycles. His song has come to feel like the soundtrack of Mead Street in my head.

I wake up around 5am every day. Usually its because of my cat Eek standing on my chest meowing loudly for me to let him outside (a horrible, horrible habit that I cannot seem to break him of), or my chronic light sleeping and insomnia that doesn't allow for more than 3 consecutive hours asleep. This morning though, I woke up to Christmas songs in my head.

Listening closer, I realized I actually could hear music. It was pure, impeccably in-tune whistling. It was Jingle Bells, and it was of course, Carwash. After completing Jingle Bells, he didn't miss a beat going into Silver Bells. Then it was Joy to the World. I laid in bed and drifted back to sleep to his singular perfect notes floating through the air.

One night, as my friend and I were pulling out of my street to go to dinner, I saw Carwash sitting in his usual plastic chair on the sidewalk in front of my neighbor's house. To my surprise, he had a barbecue going in front of him. He was hanging out and cooking sausages! He was alone and clearly enjoying himself. My friend and I laughed hard; this sort of scene is exactly why I love Atlanta so.

When I got home later that night I chatted with him for a minute. He commented on the beautiful night sky and the stars we rarely get to see through our thick city smog. I couldn't help but think of Oscar Wilde writing:

We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.

When I asked Carwash how he was doing and how his night was, he simply replied, "Blessed."

This morning when I was leaving for work I saw Carwash on his bike which he has decorated with a sprig of holly (possibly from the bush in my front yard) across the handlebars. When I asked him how he was doing this December morning, he replied again, "Blessed."