A Storm

#16 Kanbara by Japanese artist Utagawa Hiroshige.

In Japanese folklore there is a beautiful woman known as the Yuki-onna also known by many other names but I happen to like the one commonly used that calls her the "snow witch." She is a spirit that lives inside snowstorms and comes to travelers often in the night to trick and freeze them to death. She sometimes is said to have kissed them thus freezing them on the spot or to lure unsuspecting victims to her cave with the promise of shelter and food from the cold and snow. The poor souls end up starving and freezing to death in her snow cave.


Friday night Yuki-onna must have been hiding in my snowstorm that was coming but instead of freezing me to death she stole my snow and left me with an ice storm and bitter cold in her wake. The snow witch played her tricks and left us frozen in place in Atlanta Saturday morning encased in an icy web. I was expecting inches of fluffy snow to play around in and was tricked by the snow witch.

Moon Bridge in Meguro by Utagawa Hiroshige

For days I had been getting up at 2AM analyzing the weather and getting excited about how a big storm was coming because I had not seen a big snowstorm in a few years. I was invested emotionally in getting a big storm and to enjoy that silence that settles in on the world when we get big snows here in Atlanta. The roads are free of cars, the world stops and the snow cover is a blanket of insulation that absorbs the sounds of civilization. I sacrificed sleep for what I thought might be a few days of fun.

Morning sun shining on the ice coated oak trees. Photo by me, January 2017.

At 4 AM Saturday morning I stepped out the front door in my big gray winter wool coat that I bought fifteen years ago at J.Crew when they made things of high quality, my blue plaid scarf and black gloves. The world was silent and the only sounds were the dry and sparkling snow crystals falling from the sky and collecting on the already ice covered trees, shrubbery and ground. In the street lights I stared at that mesmerizing sight of peace and silence filling the air knowing this wasn't going to be a big snowstorm. I was accepting of what little snow I was going to see and thankful that I had a chance to stand and watch it with no one else around. My little peaceful few moments standing there covered in crystallized enjoyment the snow witch took mercy on me I suppose and flew away with the wind on her way in search of other victims.

Photo by me, January 2017.

Photo by me, January 2017.

Ice storms have their own beauty. It is a dangerous beauty that you fear and that beauty is tempting like that of the snow witch. The glazed over trees that are bowing to the world, the shiny sidewalks, the frozen raindrops are like someone has placed icing on a cake. You want to admire this glistening jewel before you and it is so tempting. This beauty brings down trees, takes out the power lines and leaves you in the cold and dark like the snow witch's cave.

Photo by me, January 2017.

Photo by me, January 2017.

There's the awful crack of the ice storm. If you've been through an ice storm, especially a bad one, you know that undeniable sound of the cracking of the ice over your head. That crack of the ice on the trees brings you nightmares because you know that could mean a limb or an entire tree is aiming for you or your electricity. Every wind gust has you looking to see how the bent over trees are struggling under the weight of the ice. Ice storms are humbling.

This morning it was 15F or -9C degrees. The oatmeal and boiled egg that I eat every morning seemed extra relevant as the windows fogged over with steam from the humidifier. This cold is the kind that hurts the face and ears after getting exposed to it for more than a minute. and your breath becomes an extra long cloud of steam as it evaporates into the sun and wind.

Photo by me, January 2017.

Photo by me, January 2017.

The ice is still falling from the trees and cracking to the ground today. The snow is curled up in the leaves in the shade and I'm reminded of my coldest experiences in winter in places like New York and Toronto or living in Louisville. Years ago in Hell's Kitchen I was so cold I couldn't speak, just walking a few blocks and my mouth wouldn't work. It is that cold here in Atlanta today and yesterday. It stayed in the 20s all yesterday afternoon and it never climbed above freezing (32F, 0C).

Even if I didn't get my big snowstorm yet this winter I did get those few moments alone in the snow at 4AM as a reward without the snow witch taking me. 

 

2016 A Year

Burkharts in Atlanta where 2016 began. Photo by me, January 2016.

H

ow do you sum up a year? Was it marked by the beeping of the coffee maker telling me to fill up my cup day after day or by the shutter click of my camera? Maybe it was the miles of footsteps hiking in the woods or the lines of words I wrote? I really don't know the answers, but I know that 2016 is over.

I know that silence was more prevalent as I spoke less, withdrew and tightened the circle in my life. It was a year of endings and I said goodbye to some people. Some of the goodbyes were angry and hurt but what has been said has been said. Sometimes you want to forget and sometimes you need to remember and I did both. 

 
It was awful year of politics and America let us all down. I thought we were better than this but I was wrong and that is depressing. Many a sleepless night has come to me over this election.

I didn't break any bones or require any surgery and for that I am grateful. I might have earned a wrinkle or two and gained a few more grays, but overall I came through this year physically well. I still live in fear of what 2012 did to my body and those scars greet me every morning.

I'm reminded of Seasons Of Love from the Rent soundtrack to put a cap on this year.




My favorite book that I read was from Edmund White, Inside A Pearl: My Years In Paris, published in 2014.

I couldn't find any new music to give a damn about this year. I had to turn to the past and discover music that was new to me. Tom Waits took my heart with his tender ballad, If I Have To Go, from 2006.

Alabama. Photo by me, July 2016.

My favorite moment was in July watching thunderstorms atop a mountain in Alabama. I watched the blackness grow, move toward me, the wind rush up and a growing curtain of rain surrounded me. In that moment I wanted to be left alone to live in that second with no distractions by anything. That moment was symbolic and foreshadowed the remaining months. It was the turning point from what had been a good year to one where nothing made sense on any level and patterns to predict behavior and trends in everything and everyone failed.

On the Atlanta Beltline over North Avenue. January 2016.

I walked on beaches, city streets, mountains, valleys and floated on the water. I looked at the sky more both day and night to wonder and think. That was my road this year of my life with the highs, the lows and periods of flat ground.

2016 was a year I would like to forget and I hope that 2017 is better.

Christmastime In The City

Centennial Olympic Park. December 2012. Photo by me.

What I enjoy most about this time of year are the lights, the crowds and the distractions from everyday life. The cold is nice and when it snows that is nice too. All of those things make city life a little more colorful and a little more enjoyable from the rest of the year. So here are some sights from this year and from a few years in the past. Merry Christmas to you and happy holidays.

Centennial Olympic Park. December 2016. Photo by me.

December 2012. Photo by me.

A church on Peachtree Street in Midtown. December 2012. Photo by me.

Santa at Lenox Square. December 2016. Photo by me.

Marilyn Monroe tree inside the former Davison's/Macy's department store on Peachtree Street. November 2011. Photo by me.

Ice skaters at Centennial Olympic Park. December 2007. Photo by me.

Lenox Square. December 2016. Photo by me.

Centennial Olympic Park. December 2016. Photo by me.

The World of Coca-Cola. December 2007. Photo by me.

Lenox Square. December 2016. Photo by me.

Centennial Olympic Park. December 2012. Photo by me.

November 2012. Photo by me.

This is my favorite Christmas tree in Atlanta located at Peachtree Center in Downtown.


Best wishes.

A Cold Night During Christmas Week

December 2016. Photo by me.

It was just a few days from Christmas and I was at Atlantic Station while the Christmas shopping was wrapped up on Monday night. It was cold and seeing the snow and the Christmas lights was nice. It was cold enough for a wool coat, scarf and my black leather gloves. The sidewalks at Atlantic Station were busy, the shops too and the restaurants were filled.

Christmas isn't something I much celebrate, but I try. I put on my smile and keep going though 2016 wasn't the greatest year - a year of endings.

December 2016. Photo by me.

People were ice skating under the clouds and through the cold. It reminded me of this song.

December 2016. Photo by me.

The machine made snow fell and the lights of the buildings glowed as a backdrop to the tree.

Spring In Sautee Nacoochee

Photo by me, April 2014.

Spring was just arriving in the second week of April 2014 in the valleys of the northeast Georgia mountains and the mountaintops were still bare and on the highest peaks that day there was snow and lots of wind. I had visitors from Canada with me and they must have brought the cold with them from the north as we traveled around the state. That morning we stopped in Sautee Nacoochee in White County, it was a place I had not been in nearly twenty years.

Sautee Nacoochee is kind of a special place in the north Georgia mountains for it strives to be a community that celebrates the arts and history and does not consider itself a tourist trap like the nearby town of Helen.

Photo by me, April 2014.

We stopped in at the Old Sautee Store that has served the valleys of Sautee and Nacoochee since 1872. Like many old country stores this had also served as the post office for the community until the middle of the 20th Century. Today the store has a small museum in the front portion with some interesting relics of the past and the rest of the place sells food, housewares and local novelty. That particular day it was great to get warmed up by the fireplace.

My real destination that day was to visit the Sautee Nacoochee Center and the folk pottery museum. My guests were not necessarily museum types like me but I thought I could sneak in a place of interest to me and maybe expose them to some of the history and arts of the area before we went on to do activities more their style.

Photo by me, April 2014.

Some years ago I had seen a show on public television about pottery and it had mentioned the Folk Pottery Museum of Northeast Georgia so it had registered in my mind that I wanted to visit when I had the opportunity. I love pottery and have since I was a child when I would unsuccessfully try to make objects out of the gray clay in the hills behind my house or in crafts projects at school. I never made anything beautiful or collectible like anything close to resembling what is on display at this museum.

Photo by me, April 2014.

Face jugs. Photos by me, April 2014.

The collection at the museum includes pieces from the famous Meaders Family of Georgia. The Meaders became well known in the pottery world for making what are known as "face jugs." Their pieces are so prized and highly collectible that they sell for exorbitant prices and can be found in the Smithsonian.

Photo by me, April 2014

Photo by me, April 2014

Photo by me, April 2014.

It helps to have a sense of humor to appreciate face jugs I believe. Some of the faces are humorous, some are ugly or fanciful and some are scary and grotesque.

Photo by me, April 2014.

Photo by me, April 2014

Photo by me, April 2014

Not all of the pieces in the collection are face jugs. There are plenty of other decorative pieces of pottery on display too.

Photo by me, April 2014

Photo by me, April 2014

Photo by me, April 2014

I particularly admire the more decorative pieces.

Photo by me, April 2014

Photo by me, April 2014

Photo by me, April 2014

Photo by me, April 2014

 Snakes and roosters seem to be a common theme in the folk pottery world.

Located next door to the pottery museum is the Sautee Nacooche Center which serves as the cultural centerpiece of the valleys. It is located in a former school and contains a museum focusing on local history, a theatre for live performances and a gift shop with unique and beautiful art pieces from local craftsmen. This was the one place I had been to before when an ex of mine had spent the summer nearly twenty years ago working in the theatre program.

Photo by me, April 2014.

Photo by me, April 2014.

Photo by me, April 2014.

In the museum there are items such a miner's helmet from a gold mine, a hand dug canoe and other displays that give you a good idea of what earlier life was like for people here.

Photo by me, April 2014.

Photo by me, April 2014.

Photo by me, April 2014.

Photo by me, April 2014.

There were some beautiful pieces of art for sale in the gift shop.

Photo by me, April 2014

If you've never been to Sautee Nacoochee and you want to try something different that isn't a tourist trap I recommend visiting.

Bright Blue On Georgia Avenue

Photo by me, April 2014.

Summerhill for the past several decades has been a neighborhood dominated by sports stadiums. First came Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium in 1965 then Turner Field in 1996 and now Georgia State University is the big land owner and potential developer to come here. The 1996 Summer Olympics were held here and the Olympic torch cauldron still stands on Capitol Avenue but mostly what a large part of Summerhill is at first glance is a sea of asphalt parking lots. Sitting in the shadows of a vibrant Downtown Atlanta there isn't much in the way color.

What was once a vital commercial center on Georgia Avenue has mostly been torn down so that baseball fans could park their cars. What remains are a few buildings occupied by a liquor store and a dry cleaner and nothing else. Though fireworks would reguarly light up the sky over Turner Field there was very little in the way of bright and hopeful color on the ground.

Until in 2013, Living Walls came to the neighborhood and brought in artists to paint murals on some of the drab buildings. Summerhill and the area on Georgia Avenue was filled with color.

One of those murals was created by artist Trek Matthews of Chicago. Matthews is a visual artist that works in a variety of mediums. He has also painted other murals in Atlanta for Living Walls and has had shows at the High Museum and as far away as Russia.

Photo by me, April 2014.

So what to make of this mural? I don't know the artist's vision or intent here so I can only make my own interpretation of this abstract mural. To me it looks like a bird, maybe a crane of some sort, moving from right to left. It is a colorful bird no doubt as it struts across the light blue backdrop. If it is a bird that would be sort of fitting since the symbol for the city of Atlanta is the phoenix rising from the ashes. But I could be totally wrong in my interpretation.