The apartment is as clean as it will ever be. I made a reservation for lunch at Frick Cafe for Tuesday. It’s supposed to be very hot here; it’s hot already, but I’m sure you know about that. What time do you think you will get here?

Did I ever tell you I hate cleaning? I hate cleaning! I only do it when things get really bad. Today was the day. Things are bad and Raja is coming to visit in about ten days. I figured I better start now. She’s very clean. I did the kitchen and both bathrooms. I actually keep them moderately clean most of the time, but the floors really needed washing, not the lick and promise they usually get. I did it. Am I proud of myself? A little, but not the same as when I complete some creative project. During the next week I’ll finish the rest of the place and be ready for Raja.

Yesterday was my last class about Ancient China. This is the class that met at 8:30 am, and it had to be really good; I missed only one class because I opted to meet friends who were only briefly in town. It isn’t the getting up early I mind, it’s the getting up early and rushing out. These days it seems to take about twenty minutes before my eyes are fully functional. When I was working at my last job I had to drive across the George Washington Bridge. I got up at 5:30 every morning, threw on some clothes, my contact lenses and got across the bridge before 6. (This was to avoid the really heavy traffic on the bridge, but I was still sure those trucks were going to get me.) The rest of the 35 mile trip wasn’t so bad; I was going upstate instead of down to Manhattan.  My company had a fitness center. I worked out for about 45 minutes, showered, dressed, went to their cafeteria to pick up breakfast and was at my desk by 8:30. It’s hard to believe that was only four years ago.

Next Tuesday I begin auditing an Asian art class. This one starts at noon so I won’t have that early morning conflict: to go or not to go.

I have been writing about my tulip tree for about a year. I thought it would be fun to put all the photos on one page.

June 2006

Flowers on the ground after the tree was trimmed.

Blossoms are turning into long, green buds.

Those green buds turned into these strange brown, woody-looking flowers in November.

Watching for new blossoms in April 2007.

The old blossoms are still on the tree.

First new blossoms

New blossoms are shrouded in brown petals that fall off as the flowers open.

They are already beginning to form those green buds, June 2007

I did not plan it, but from Thursday, my birthday, to last Thursday I visited the Chihuly exhibit four times. Although obviously overkill, it was an interesting exercise and enabled me to more precisely define my feelings about Chihuly. As I mentioned previously, I loved the show in Chicago, did not love it in New York, and loved it here, at least the first two times.

I went to the show last Tuesday for the second time. My class let out early, it’s nearby and I had nothing better to do. At that time I bought myself a ticket for Chihuly at night. I never managed to see the show at night in Chicago. Seeing the show at night in the Bronx turned out to be a nightmare, but I decided I had to try one more time. After a pleasant visit on Tuesday I returned Wednesday evening for a night viewing. It doesn’t get really dark here until about 9 pm meaning there was still some daylight as I walked through parts of the exhibit. Mostly it was dark enough to see the effect lights have. Sometimes it was spectacular, but often I felt the daylight spectacle was just as good, in some cases even better. Here is a photo of the full moon peeking over the Japanese garden, flanked by Chihuly.

Someday I may take only dark photos.

I took this photo too early in the evening. Both the Chihuly and the Cathedral are lit at night and might make a better picture. Maybe I’ll go back when it starts to get dark earlier.

In the meantime I got a call from old friends who were visiting here inviting me to meet them at the Phipps on Thursday morning. Back I went. I think I was Chihulyed out, but it was OK; I had a good time visiting with my friends.

My decision about Chihuly: I like it best when the pieces are made part of the plantings; often the plants are more interesting than the glass. The combination is greater than the sum of its parts.

Coming soon: a Chihuly album with pictures from both the Phipps and the Bronx.

When several days have gone by and I haven’t posted anything I start to think about whether this blog is a diary or a vehicle for airing my thoughts (gripes) or just what it is. I suppose it is those things, and most important I think it is my way of not being invisible. When I was younger I was never invisible. Generally, my presence attracted far more attention than I ever wanted or understood how to deal with. Sometime after my fiftieth or sixtieth birthday I became invisible. I know this is not something I’ve dreamt up or that is limited to me. I’ve heard too many elders complain about it. I want to make my presence felt, at least on the internet. I encourage everyone I know to start a blog and gladly help others do it. I would like to see a huge elder presence on the web. Maybe that would make all of us less invisible.

Fiberart International opened in two venues on Friday evening and continued with a forum on Saturday and a party on Saturday evening. The weekend was made even more special for me by my guest from New York, Mary,  an avid quilter and very savvy about fiber creations. We went to all of the events, had a great time discussing the work and talking to the artists.  Work included quilts, weaving, sculpture made from metal fibers and many other nontraditional materials. One of my favorite pieces is this wedding gown.
Printed on the fabric are thoughts a bride might have while walking down the aisle. It’s very funny, and from my point of view, rather ironic. For more photos of the gown and some of the other pieces see the picture album called Fiberarts 2007.

Happy birthday to Steve. Since most of what you want is intangible, and I can never figure out an appropriate gift for you, I’m sending you these public good wishes.

Happy first blog birthday to The Boomer Chronicles, and to her doggy. My first blog birthday passed without notice by anyone but Typepad, who collected another year’s rent from me.

I take careful note of my own birthdays, not necessarily publicly, especially since I have gotten older. Each year (each day) is a gift and I appreciate it.

I never got to the museum today. There was a lecture at 10:15, but when I woke up I knew I wasn’t going there. It felt good to be lazy, and I spent a long time in the shower. Hot water is wonderful.

Last night we went to Pittsburgh Opera’s "Magic Flute." As usual, the voices and orchestra were wonderful. Staging left something to be desired. It’s a tough opera; doesn’t make a lot of sense. Charna said it’s sung in German, using Italian names, set in Egypt. In addition, they used English in the spoken parts, borrowed a little (maybe not enough) from the Julie Taymor staging, and gave the monster? children such modern toys as skates, scooters, skate boards. Steve couldn’t remember the trials by fire and water. The rest of us suffered more watching than the protagonists who were going through them. Maybe that’s what made me so tired this morning.

I can’t seem to finish binding Grandma’s book. Some of the fabric pieces need accurate trimming, and I can’t find my rotary cutter. So I’m going out to buy a new one. Then I won’t have any more excuses. Maybe I can get something done before I pack to go to New York.

I’ve been eating too much; I forgot to pay some of my bills; I’m messier than usual; I feel like I’m falling apart. Today, I did a big bill pay thing. I stopped eating too much two days ago, and I feel better. But the mess remains. On Saturday I’m going to New York for the week; five days after I return I have a house guest. Obviously, I need to be better organized. Also, the two Japanese print exhibits will be taken down within the next weeks, so I’m feeling like I ought to take one more look: Kogyo today, CMOA tomorrow.

Yesterday I walked back to my car after class; about 2 miles. I’m practicing for New York where I do no end of walking. Today I’ll walk over to the Frick Art Museum, less than a 2-mile round trip, but then there’s all that walking in the museum.