NOODLING -- where we are now...

                     

 

Noodling where we are now... nearing our 4th year since we moved from Vashon Island to Point Ruston, Tacoma... less than 30 miles... & a number of decades apart. Appreciatively lighter now & quite happy to have divested ourselves of so many objects & collections & out-grown habits, allowing more space in ourselves to practice new discernment of  priorities. 

Our view continues to be satisfyingly varied. In summer I live for the sun on our east facing deck, whether the mountain we love is hiding or clear.

Whether the moon is full or dark... the shipping docks usually are lighted, so we have few dark skies.

Gardening a deck has given me new challenges in the heavy-on direct eastern morning sun exposure until shaded by an overhang at midday. I continue to celebrate the red geraniums... & the hummingbirds they draw up to our 8th floor! A grove of avocados which seeds I sprouted that same first summer have now wintered-over into this, its third year outside in our weather! 

 During the last year I've become interested & fascinated in the variety of sculptural forms of of Sempervivum & Echeveria, so I've been adding to the collection as new textures & colors come along.

 

There is a grower whose booth at Tacoma's Proctor Market is right next to Adam's Mushrooms, where we shop regularly, where I keep learning more about the wide & wild variety of mycological offerings.

Our cuisine is enriched & enlivened by the produce every Saturday at our near-by Proctor Farmer's Market. A richness of vegetables & fruits, nuts & berries, plus several vendors offering floral arrangements to joyfully complicate carrying them along with arms full of produce. 

We continue learning how to stage our route as we begin to shop, in order to get any drinks & breakfast  items first, before our bags are heavy. Because I already need one of my hands to use my walking stick, we try to find a table when we eat... I've given-up practicing the feats of eating out of hand while also walking, dodging pups & kids... while enjoying the social negotiations of foot traffic with smile. There often is a handsome man worth sharing a second glance!

Fishers & butchers selling choice cuts, often frozen, or sometimes links of sausage.  Pasta makers,  home-made sauces & jellies, as well as an abundance of prepared foods like hummus & salsa. All bring potential delicacies to our kitchen. Then, there are the bakers! The musicians! Life is rich!

A market/faire -- such an ancient & deeply essentially human social & fiscal event! I am pleased that it survives so vibrantly within a couple of city blocks from two upscale "standard" grocery stores! 

I've also added several pots of herbs to our deck, including an aptly named Columnar Greek  Basil growing dramatically vertical & tidy in the tight space of a container garden. Its small leaves are intense in their flavor. A perfect addition to this garden-for-foodies! Thus my gardener proves to be still quite alive, curious & experimental in this new setting.

I am enjoying celebrating this summer at home in the Pacific Northwest, after traveling so well & widely last year. I've indulged myself with lovely hours in the deck's sun, now showing in a deep coloration of my skin. I am a true Leo. Languorous & Lazy. After all, I went to school with a pride on safari last fall [link]... I have been practicing my already capatious abilities to "do nothing." I certainly know lazy. 

At the same time, we have been committed to help Momo with the shows she scheduled for this first season she begins to truly run the business of the Bells. If nothing more we are cheerleading... but... secretly, I've often wondered how the Bells might dance at a real Renaissance Faire. We shall soon know...

Our friends Debra & Eric have made their living working a circuit of Renaissance Fairs for years; one shop sells hats she makes. The other business makes feather wings. We know them through our friend Michael Hathaway; Debra is his sister-in-law. We introduced Momo to them & those connections have conspired to create a debut for the Bells the Celtic-themed weekend at the Maryland Renaissance Festival: September 19-20!

We have ordered a large stock from the foundry, which Monica has been finishing & grooming, even attaching the cords & making them ready to deliver quickly because we are told to be prepared for how brisk the business will be. It will no doubt be exciting & profitable debut to further launch the Bells' transition into Momo's venture... 

It will also further my transition into retirement! 

I've yet to finish clearing up a stack of loose-ends as the moving of studio furniture displaced storage for tools & supplies, which I do not know whether I'll ever use. My studio seems but an empty shell compared to the Soundcliff workspace... before this long whittling-down of a large collection of equipment & tools to move to Huitieme Ciel.

The studio on Vashon shared with being also "the garden shed". Here is becoming a better guest bedroom & sitting room. There is surface for the as yet unknown projects I anticipate. Occasionally I wonder at keeping the metals bench. And while I do still make use of the tools, it becomes symbolic of a still present past, a special gift from my father, whose passion for tools he taught me. 

  

Now, as has been a long habit, I love to write my journal propped-up in bed, a bowl of tea at hand...

Viewing the weather on the deck...

 

With one of the drawings I intend in future, tracing along the "verge"... the shoreline, once lined with docks, now demolished, but often leaving posts of piers deeper into the port exposed by the low tides... traces of history. 

Another trace of the ages surrounding us was a tree Stephen & I hugged [or at least tried to] at https://bloedelreserve.org/ Gardens when our friend from India, Deepa visited. 

She is an excellent wildlife photographer... here catching a couple of aging specimens in an ages-old ritual.

 We continue to flock happily together! 

 

 

Possible creative ideas come spontaneously to me like this view on our walk, which entices a puzzle I might draw in this retirement... a very freely organic version of my knot-work carving... I'm opening to the actively inventive creative play!
 

 

Our locale near the Narrows Bridge of the Puget Sound has close connections to the legendary octopus under it. There is a mosaic octopus laid in in the pavement just below our deck, at the beginning of our Water Walk. 

 

This ancient Greek image might symbolize more of the intriguing tangles & puzzles I play with, undoing & redoing my life. I need eight arms!

 I have come to view this rather lax period of time as offering some sort of incubation for my new. 

I've rarely been one to rush. One does not accomplish the detail of my work by pushing too fast or too hard. I've learned the value of patience. 

I do not wish to fumble my retirement!

CROATIA-VENICE-AMSTERDAM... PART FOUR: SPLIT...

The first morning in Split I was awakened early by several long peals of bells… I counted 100, then a bit later dozens more all around 6 or 7am! Those were soon followed by the brushing sound of a miniature street-cleaner...  soft humming whine of electric golf-cart-sized trucks… small enough to negotiate the narrow stone streets we walk, often brushing shoulders with other tourists. Squeals of their brakes… delivering goods or luggage or hauling trash? The ancient inner city of Diocletian’s palace begins to rouse from one more diurnal slumber out of several millennia worth. Then an annoyingly loud basso human voice [Russian?] obviously loving to hear his own theatrical importance resounding & echoing between stone walls & pavement.

Bells, & a classy chandelier from the gilded ceiling made me happy!

 

Our boutique hotel is tucked above a 19th century theater fronting a square just off the central agora, the heart of the ancient summer palace of the Roman Emperor Diocletian. There is delightful further wealth at these links:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Split,_Croatia
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diocletian%27s_Palace

The small lobby was enlarged by a mural-sized image of the street below...

My journal observed:

Yesterday we did several of the museums inside the walls of the late Roman pleasure palace of Diocletian which has subsequently been built & rebuilt into several evolution of medieval cities… outer fortifications & ramparts rising in times needing protection, then razed for more peaceful periods of expansion… always a center for trade, education & now enjoying revival as destination
for tourists like us.

Sporting palm trees & the beaches of which we probably won’t avail ourselves, being more interested in other culture, one appreciates how northern Europeans arrive for a sunny holiday with nightlife… a bit of which we did discover in a small adventure last night inside the bustle & throb of its heartbeat, walking the canyons deflecting crooning cafe singers, courtyards of jazz & disco, coming into soundscapes as corners were rounded then receding as quickly as entering another alleyway. We discovered a warren of venues, mostly under awnings sheltering outdoor tables served by small restaurants barely more than tiny kitchens hidden inside the nook of a thick wall... often down, or up! shadowy nearly invisible steps.

The bar we were seeking has the rare reputation of being gay friendly, if mixed… fine with us!

It turned out to be a long wide passageway gently-stepped &  furnished with an eclectic collection of cushions, stools, benches & small tables served by a waiter from a bar sending a fine collection of the last fifty years of music with which we have long danced. I enjoyed hearing forgotten memories from my twenties as we people-watched what was a parade rich for mostly inventive stories we share between ourselves...

The man sitting across the way from us was a bohemian author of

an intensely seamy novel on his phone which we might read in several years… 

not searching Grindr! 

The handsome Frenchmen with female companions… 

one sitting with his ass on a cushion thrust so far 

into the middle of the stone step supporting it 

that everyone passing had to try not to touch him… 

were secretly lovers…  

in spite of their female companions... 

not married couples.

The scene was quite unlike what we think of as a gay bar in the States!  As we prepared to leave we explored deeper up that passage & into a warren of spaces ever more exotic, filled with who we might have been looking for earlier in the evening, but seemingly only now getting started in their own nights’ bacchanal. Our choice was to return to our fine hotel not so far by foot… or perhaps ages away in the richness of this old district.

This city began as the late Roman emperor Diocletian’s summer palace in 300 AD or so. Centuries later it has become a museum chronicling its strategic situation along the Venetian trade routes, Further fortified walls were added, then torn down in peaceful times…  medieval houses were built into nooks & crannies of the various ruins. The emperor’s tomb became the small cathedral with its bell tower added, the town buildings rose, tumbled & were remodeled or rebuilt over the centuries until it became iconic enough to be declared a UNESCO Heritage site. 

Our hotel has been newly remodeled inside what we could observe had within the recent memory of one of the youthful staff housed a cinema, probably earlier a more proper theater, although she did not know about that. Seemingly the history which draws the tourist trade is not so important to the population who grew-up here, who now choose to stay here. Stephen regularly asked to discover that most in Split are happily native… unlike in Dubrovnik, where they come to work with the intention to go back to their villages.

We began at the formal gate into the palace on the land side...

guarded by theatrical centurions

 The city's museum explained & displayed visions of the original palace.

 The original footprint... & it's elevation retains,
even as many centuries' opportunistic renovations
in-built the grand spaces inside these walls 

into delightful warrens of intimate streets.
Many treasures reward explorers.

 

The vestibule of the emperor's apartment was a resonant "whispertorium". 

Designed to audibly alert the paranoid resident of any intruders.

It has become quite a perfect venue for the acapella groups called Klapa

Climbing up, we discovered the opening of the oculus above the vestibule.

I now wonder how those voices sound up here.

  

In the deep foundations far below at water level these steps show the wear of rough traffic as provisions were off-loaded from the ships in the harbor.

 I might have wished for the support of something like this whimsical hand-rail

which was found in another museum

 Support, even in these stones standing for millennia, takes many forms...

 While some walls need bracing...

 Roman vaulting seems strong...

 The history of here is long. This embroidered fashion reminds that 

cosmopolitan currency was important in this city's history. 

[zoom-in if you're into fibre!]

 I was captivated by this stately sink...

Curiously high-up in the roof of the museum... 

Puzzling before i grokked that any kitchen fire 

would better happen atop the stone substructure.

Meaning thus that having any water meant a lot of trudging work.

Now, however, we lunched at one of the many restaurants along the pedestrian friendly waterfront.

Yes, more octopus, although, since telling friends who are more conscious about those animal's high intelligence than I have been, i am rethinking my gustatory appreciation.
To know ones self is a gift… to become comfortable with that must be one’s art.

Venice & the Biennialle are just a short flight ahead in the next posting...

CROATIA-VENICE-AMSTERDAM... PART ONE: DUBROVNIK...

Where is the beginning of this saga? Since no story truly has a beginning… there can only be a before… 

The before of this travel had my sister Merrilee & Diana, our Sister-in-Love, arriving for their first visit to Soundcliff, after these two decades I’ve been here with Stephen. Our joy in that bloomed over any pinch in our schedule, which is typically often pinched. We enjoyed the fabulously rare time to share our lives in garden & beach walks, stories & meals… all food for our souls! 

They left for Port Townsend just hours before the next guest: Joel... who used to live in Port Townsend!... arrived on his way to a family wedding in Canada before returning home to  Bali. [Read my posts about our times with him there…]

Such tight timing is a good way to introduce this travelogue for me, who quite unexpectedly... yet certainly happily... became Stephen’s traveling companion for this trip to Croatia.

He had been planning this trip with our friend Edward for many months. I had a ticket to meet Stephen in Venice, after the two of them had finished their tour of the Dalmatian Coast. But when Edward had to cancel on only several days’ notice because of poor back health, we changed my ticket at the last minute to become his replacement. 

I rather felt at times I was traveling with his ghost! 

The flight through Paris to Dubrovnik was predictable. Being functionally exhausted I dozed.  After all of these preparations en-extremes... changing my schedule while keeping to our usual style of comfortably easy hosting might have pestered me more had the visitations not attained some sort of perfection in entertaining... as welcome distraction.

Having had no hand in the planning, nor much of any time for preparation, I had little notion where the ghost of Edward had landed me. Our young driver Anna spoke easily fluent English for the rather long ride from the airport. She explained that students study the language from the first grade, thus being capable to host the country’s burgeoning tourist industry. The good road was built high above a beautiful coastline giving us a first peek down into the ancient walls of the old city. 

This coast has few sandy beaches because of the islands buffering it from the wave action already lessened by the narrowness of this finger of the Mediterranean Sea:

 

I could only delight finding us in an new hotel interestingly built on numerous levels tumbling from the street down to the intensely blue waters of the Adriatic. The room was on a lower level, in a newer addition, the route to which would never quite become familiar, with the various circuitous routes to find our way down from the lobby, around & through the complex… seeming always to involve several separate elevators… & even a short bit through a corner of the immaculate parking garage! 

We arrived without much jet lag, settling into our room & exploring a bit to find a drink before choosing to have our first dinner at the terrace restaurant we could see down below from our room... 

... as the sun was setting,... 

lighting a sliver of new moon over the several small islands we saw from our glass balcony... one with a lighthouse twinkling into the deepening colors over the Aegean Sea.

Our first course obviously pleased us!

 I was seduced to choose the first of what was to become
my favorite meal… grilled octopus... succulent & flavorful! 

We probably ordered it a dozen times more over the course of our trip… usually grilled, but also ... sliced thin as part of a salad. Of course I am now learning how to shop for & prepare it at home!

Staying on the Dalmatian Coast, with its abundance of good seafood offered on any menu, we frequently ate from the sea. The food was wondrously good, with wines surprisingly delightful. We could imagine our lives being part of a continuum reaching back millennia, albeit celebrating only the more peaceful times... since even recent history unfortunately includes still-lingering disturbances. 

The Hotel More [logically meaning sea…] is located above a cove some distance from the urban center. Neighboring hotels tumble similarly down accessing a paved public walkway built just short steps above the sea. No sandy beaches, but numerous small paved bathing terraces tucked into pockets of rock formations, with ladders giving swimmers access to the gentle surf. 

We came to choose this picturesque route for our forays into, or more frequently returning from, town... once we learned that the bus system returning us from the old walled city had a stop down at that water level before riding up only slightly closer to the hotel’s front entrance. It was far more pleasant than walking further up a street which was too busy & narrow for pedestrians.

Evenings we could then find a moment for a last drink on one of the bars with seating steeply up & down numerous terraces…  or in the hotel’s famous Cave Bar, part of which was built into a cavity gouged into the cliff by the sea long ago. 

The deepest part had a glass floor suspended over its chthonic mysteries!

Pondering

Owning... for a moment

Yet it was always much more pleasant to sit al fresco
on the steep-stepped terrace bar to enjoy a drink in the evening's glow.
From there it was a short elevator [or two!] ride
or a creative walk up to our room.

Croatia sits between Greece & Rome… the ancient historic classical standards of our western culture. Geography has made its history a richly tormented stew between that “classicism” & the more oriental “East” … Our destinations had even stronger history with maritime empire of medieval Venice... three walled cities: Dubrovnik, Korçula & Split, with day trips to Kotor, Montenegro- another walled city, plus Mostar, Bosnia, with its amazing stone bridge.

Forts like this will be our abodes for more than a week’s travels… with photographic opportunities abounding! I have an affinity for...Stone!

Even now, even here, there seems no good… certainly no easy… understanding of the simmering still inside the recent turmoil of a war between faiths which I suppose I will never quite grok. We get a sense that something still smolders under a surface most everyone hopes to pave over.

We are tourists in places dependent on our value to their economy… we all quietly choose to honor the more durable stones of history.

We were easily enticed to climb up to walk atop the high ancient stone walls, rising from the sea, protectively thick & thus occasionally wide enough to become small streets with terraces … places for restaurants & bars offering views on one side out to the water or down the other side onto the tile roofs of the old city.

 

 

We rewarded our exertions with a cool beer before continuing on, climbing many more... usually more narrow... paths stepping steeply up & down between parapets protectively defining & enclosing the old city

 One moment arrested my eye... this single shot of a tiled roof
carefully sawn... adjusting to the building's geometric evolution
rather high atop the ancient organic / cthonic footprint...  

 The route eventually dipped down close to the water of the harbor.

Bell towers became a focus on this trip after seeing the mecanique of the iron gents wielding hammers to strike the bells. Later, we saw these retired originals in the museum...

  

The hotel’s buffet breakfast usually held us well until we found a late lunch, re-grounding before moving on to the next museum, or church, or to simply stroll through the streets... exploring how the generations who polished these stones traversed daily such a tight geography.

Curiously… or not, in this ever smaller world… as we sat waiting to be served one of the traditional lunches made with slices of meat stuffed & rolled like a wrap, at a table right in a narrow side street... a couple of guys we know from Seattle stopped to greet us! 

Our itinerary has us staying in three cities along this coast, each with its central old section inside ancient dramatic stone walls. These fortifications are astounding feats of engineering craft & art. 

We are scheduled for several days with drivers taking us inland to visit two neighboring countries familiar to the news stories of war in the Balkans several decades ago: Mostar, in Bosnia & Kotor,  in Montenegro. Following these excursions we drove in a sporty rented Mercedes up the coast, choosing the older coastal road over the newer freeway cutting more quickly above the vistas we enjoyed.

More posts will follow to cover these adventures...