Poseidon's Dream Pouch

Here's my latest project. It brings out the mystic in me.



The Dream Pouch holds your dream, creating a place in the world on which to focus your creative energy to help your dream come true. The idea comes from the ancient days of Atlantis.

Here's the legend of the Dream Pouch:

Before the days of Avalon, back to Atlantean times, people of renown, artisans, crafts people, religious people even, all carried a Dream Pouch or more. It is said that the great Poseidon, protector of Atlantis, created 12 Dream Pouches for the first 12 Atlanteans. These pouches carried the 12 great virtues: love, kindness, compassion, humility, grace, devotion, joy, forgiveness, harmony, balance, responsibility and prosperity. Poseidon himself decreed that Dream Pouches hold only unconditionally loving dreams, or dreams that in some way reflect the 12 virtues.

It became tradition for the High Priestess of Atlantis to create the Dream Pouches, and in a ritual, to have them blessed by Poseidon. Through the act of acquiring a Dream Pouch, Atlanteans welcomed the blessings, protection and ancient wisdom of Poseidon in their quest to turn their dreams into reality.

In the tradition of the High Priestess of Atlantis, I create each Dream Pouch and perform a ritual asking Poseidon to fill the Dream Pouch with the energy and wisdom of Atlantis. The ritual imbues the Dream Pouch with the intent of helping its owner develop a clear mind, a strong purpose and the courage to take action to fulfill their dream.

For more about Poseidon's Dream Pouch, please visit www.theDreamPouch.com.

Three Baby Hawks

We spotted these cuties in our neighbor's yard today.
Three baby hawks hanging out on the trees.
These siblings have lovely tail feathers.
They're bright-eyed curious and seriously fluffy.

Sneaking a peek was a real treat!

Reef Jam and the Invasion of Lionfish

This was the scene yesterday at Rainbow Beach in Frederiksted while ReefJam '09 was in full swing.


According to www.reefjam.com, "Our mission is to improve St. Croix coral reef conservation efforts through community education, stewardship and conservation programs which promote positive behavior changes toward our marine environment."

Indeed, there were activity tents, information stations, beach games, frolicking in the water, burgers and ribs and grilled chicken, lots of beer, and fun music.



The musical lineup was great. It began with fun Cuban-Latin music from Siete Son, followed by Kurt Schindler's world funk (accompanied in this photo by Conga player extraordinaire Junie Bomba), and ending to the sway of the Reggae Bubblers.

Amid the dancing and the beach fun, we saw first-hand the great danger threating our coral reefs. Here's a photo of a Lionfish caught in February right on this beach.


These small fish that look like aquatic zebras are venomous to humans. When they invade a reef community, they can gobble up about 80% of the fish population in that reef. Their invasion in the Atlantic and Caribbean is occurring at a staggering speed. They're already spread throughout the Bahamas.

This year St. Croix fishermen and divers have spotted about 6 Lionfish around our island. There is an effort now among local authorities and conservationists to raise community awareness to minimize the impact of the Lionfish in our coral reefs. If any of us are snorkeling or diving out there and catch sight of a Lionfish, we are to immediately report the sighting to a local dive shop or contact the Division of Fish and Fish and Wildlife (340-772-1955).

Anatomy of a Sun

For me, the sun is a frequent subject of contemplation. In my artistic endeavors I sometimes ponder how to portray on fabric this magnificent source of light, how to capture the energy of this titan that is indispensable and hazardous all at once; giver and taker; the rightful subject of mysticism throughout the ages.

The ancients have personified the sun as a king with a shining crown and as a deity riding a chariot across the sky. My favorite characterization of the sun comes from Hindu religious literature, in which the sun is considered a visible form of God that we can see every day.

I'm working on a small sun quilt. Here's my attempt at capturing the sun using a simple fabric collage. The quilting of it will come later.

Spring at the Lawaetz

Today I visited my favorite trees on the grounds of the Lawaetz Museum on the west end of St. Croix, and I was happy to see signs of Spring everywhere.


My beautiful sister Saman trees were resplendent in pink flowers.


Here's a closeup of the pink buds:


The baby Baobob had a few seed pods.



The almond tree was almonding.


The mango tree was mangoing.



The calabash was calabashing.


The orange was oranging.


The soursop was soursoping.


And the breadfruit was breadfruiting.


The giant leaves of the breadfruit glowed in the noon sun.


And here's one luscious closeup of those perfect breadfruit orbs:

Sunset Sail on the Roseway

During the winter months, we on St. Croix have become accustomed to seeing the red sails of the 137 ft. schooner Roseway along the northern shores of the island. For the past couple of years the big ship has made St. Croix its winter home, where it operates the World Ocean School, running programs for local schools in which 7th graders get to integrate lessons in math and science while having a unique sailing experience. Here's a photo of the Roseway by Pranas Robert Karalius, courtesy of www.worldoceanschool.org.



Built for fishing in 1925, this lovely ship had stints as a New England Coast Guard pilot during World War II, and a windjammer out of Camden before its refurbishing in 2002 and rebirth as a school. My brother-in-law Alex remembers sailing on the Roseway one exuberant summer in Maine when the schooner catered to high-spirited 16-year-olds. We told this to the captain who says he is amazed at the number of people he meets who have a connection to the Roseway.



We recently enjoyed one of the sunset sails the Roseway offers for the general public. As we got underway, all passengers assisted the crew in raising the big red sails.



The schooner took us north of the island for about an hour. We enjoyed the sun setting behind the Maroons on the northwest corner of St. Croix.



We returned to a lit Christiansted Harbor.



And watched the crew lower the sails for the night.

A Creative Winter

It's Winter season here on St. Croix--yes, we do have "winter" in the tropics! Day time temperatures drop to the lower F80's, evenings get down to the F70's and we complain of "chills" and wear long pants and long sleeves and avoid the water when we go to the beach. In fact, the weather is perfect to be ensconced in the studio, which is what I've been doing the past couple of months.

So Winter has kept me quite busy in a wonderfully creative way. Here's a recap of my doings so far:

In early December I was a vendor at Starving Artists Day at the Whim Museum, a great place to sell and shop for Christmas gifts.

Some of my creations were totes:

Satchels
Purses
Journal Covers
Bookmarks


And now my art is permanently available at the Whim Museum Store.

I also participated in the Botanical Garden's Christmas Spoken Here festival in Mid December.

After Christmas I switched gears and began preparations for the Good Hope Fine Art Exhibit, which took place this past weekend.

Here's a close-up of the pieces that I exhibited:

Seahorse Under the Moon

Turtle Magic

Whale Rain

Poseidon's Reef

Whale Across the Water

Fantastic Fish 1


Fantastic Fish 2

The first sale and crowd favorite at Good Hope was Whale Rain, corroborating my desire to create a whole series of whale quilts. Fantastic Fish 2 was also quite popular and also sold. The other pieces will now go on sale through my website, which is about to undergo a much-needed update.

Overall, it's been a great creative season and I'm energized to continue this level of creativity throughout the year.

Calypso

She was named long before she actually came into my life, when I first fell in love with the name and decided that if I ever had a cat, I'd name her Calypso. When she did arrive, she lived up to her name, graceful as the flower, beautiful as the nymph and spunky as the music. She was opinionated, letting me know in no uncertain terms how she despised human food. We bickered at times, but always made up by bedtime when she made it her job to tuck us into bed and purr us to sleep. There is no better lullaby.

A week ago we had to say good bye. My hand still reaches out to touch her silky fur or squeeze her fluffy paws, and my heart has a gaping hole. But I imagine that she's frolicking in heaven with her brother Hercules, while gently trying to remind me that in love there is no separation.

Annaly Bay Hike and Geocache

Last Sunday afternoon we joined the St. Croix Hiking Association for a wonderful hike on the Trunbull Trail. The trail starts behind Carambola Beach Resort, on the Northwest corner of St. Croix.

It works its way up a ridge overlooking the north shore, and then descends to the Annaly Tide Pools.


The trail is shaded most of the way, with lots of interesting trees, such as this guy whose name I don't know, but looks like it's been in one too many bar fights.

Or this one, officially known as a Turpentine Tree, and locally called The Tourist Tree because it's red and peeling all over.

We took a quick detour to the ruins of an old sugar mill.

A nest of bees are now the official residents of this sugar mill.

The surf was high at Annaly Bay.

Some brave souls still hiked around the rocks to make it to the tide pools.

I watched from a rocky perch, and then got busy finding the geocache, located at N 17° 45.793 W 064° 50.723.

I took a mini microscope, and left behind one of my creations: a quilted bookmark.

Omar's Visit

Here's what Omar looked like on the radar last Tuesday night, as it started heading our way. We look so tiny next to such a big blob of turbulence!



I went outside and captured the cloud cover as it reached us.



We spent Wednesday preparing for the storm, our first since we moved to the Caribbean. It got windy by 8 pm, and howling by 10. I fell asleep at midnight despite what sounded like a freight train rolling past my window. When I woke up at 5 am, calm prevailed.

Some water had seeped in through windows and doors, and outside, the house was plastered with leaves, some tree branches had broken and a few shrubs had fallen over. Thankfully, that was the extent of our damage.

Thursday morning, the skies were blue and the sea was relatively calm. The biggest telltale in the water was the brown muck that would otherwise be turquoise waters in serene Salt River Bay.



I walked around the property to survey the damage and found these amazing signs of nature's resiliency: A spider web still intact despite hurricane winds.



Butterflies! Many, many butterflies hovering around a field of untouched blooming exoras.



And our population of geckos going about their business, like any old day. How did they manage it?


It turns out we were lucky here in Salt River because while Omar was becoming a major hurricane, it took a right turn and headed for the east end of the island, where it allegedly overturned every utility pole in sight. The island suffered no loss of life, but the scene at the Christiansted harbor was certainly catastrophic.





It is estimated that over 30 boats sank as they slammed into each other or into the boardwalk.





Where do you begin this kind of cleanup?



For some people their boat was their home, for others it was their livelihood.



Some images were simply surreal.



In town, some businesses tried to help pick up everyone's spirits with live music and a place to meet and regroup.



By Saturday night, most of us were exhausted from all the work of cleaning up and putting things back in their places. Our friends LeeAnn and Bryan decided it was time to let off some steam and threw a Pajama-Hookah-Karaoke party.



One day over the summer, I brought out my tiny toy-like hookah at a gathering, and it was such a hit that now we have an impressive collection of hookah pipes amongst us, all the better for trying out the endless variety of tobacco flavors: apple, melon, mint, chocolate, raspberry, champagne, coffee, coconut...



Sporting our pajamas helped everyone loosen up and try their hand at karaoke.



It was just the kind of goofy fun we all needed.

Whale Wonderment

I spent the summer pondering where to go next in my creative journey. I wanted the proverbial breath of fresh air, new inspiration, something to capture my imagination and lure me into the depths of artistic exploration.

It took a trip north to Skagway, Alaska, for me to find my muse in the majesty of whales frolicking in the cold waters of the Lynn Canal. What a sight it was, a pod of 15 humpbacks whooshing, calling out to each other, high-tailing it and then, in unison, soaring above the water, pink mouths wide open, feasting on fish and glee and companionship. And later, a pod of about 24 orcas jumping about in pairs, while we on the boat stood in silent wonder listening to their song.

And so I'm back in the tropics enthralled with the memory of these giants, wanting more than anything to capture their splendor on fabric in a riot of color and texture. Here's my first humble attempt:

Ode to the Sea

My dearest friend John was here for a couple of weeks thawing out from winter in NJ, "the land of black and white" as he called it. Every time he visits we make a pilgrimage to Point Udall, the eastern end of St. Croix and the easternmost point of the US, and one of my favorite spots here. I'll let this photo (which shows Buck Island on the far left) explain why:


This view invokes my deep love of the ocean and it also invariably evokes a wonderful poem by Pablo Neruda:

Ode to the Sea
Here
Surrounding the island
There's sea.
But what sea?
It's always overflowing.
Says yes,
Then no,
Then no again,
And no,
Says yes
In blue
In sea spray
Raging,
Says no
And no again.
It can't be still.
It stammers
My name is sea.


It slaps the rocks
And when they aren't convinced,
Strokes them
And soaks them
And smothers them with kisses.
With seven green tongues
Of seven green dogs
Or seven green tigers
Or seven green seas,
Beating its chest,
Stammering its name,


Oh Sea,
This is your name.
Oh comrade ocean,
Don't waste time
Or water
Getting so upset
Help us instead.
We are meager fishermen,
Men from the shore
Who are hungry and cold
And you're our foe.
Don't beat so hard,
Don't shout so loud,
Open your green coffers,
Place gifts of silver in our hands.
Give us this day
our daily fish.

ps- Many thanks to John Windwalker for sharing with me this lovely photo.

Community Supported Agriculture

I have joined the first season of St. Croix's first Community Supported Agriculture (CSA), run by the Virgin Islands Sustainable Farm Institute. A CSA is a program in which consumers buy a share of a farmer's crop up front. In this way, we, the consumers, participate in funding the operating costs and enjoy the bounty at harvest time. For me, it means an opportunity to support local agriculture in return for fresh, delicious, organic produce. This is a big thing here; an island where the supermarkets ship most of their produce from the States, and so we often get mealy tomatoes, old cucumbers, stale apples, and all at astronomical prices. A bunch of scallions costs $1.50. A head of cauliflower: $4.00, a pint of berries: $4.00 to $6.00, a bunch of bananas: $.75/lb.

Here's a sampling of this week's basket: tomatoes, eggplant, purple bell peppers, tatsoi, mixed greens, pigeon peas, celery, green and purple basil, mint and raccao. In previous weeks I've received cucumbers, okra, carrots, dill, bananas, passion fruit, limes and oranges.

I enjoy the variety from week to week, as each ingredient can inspire an unexpected dish. I've made fried okra, sautéed tatsoi, carrot soup, dill-yogurt dressing, insalata caprese, lime-poppy seed muffins, and mint tea. This week, I might put to use that mint towards a batch of mojitos.

Public Reaction at Good Hope Exhibit

The Good Hope Caribbean Fine Arts Exhibit ran this past weekend. I was happy to be an exhibiting artist, and even happier when I sold four of my six pieces on display. During the opening reception on Friday evening I had the pleasure to see the public's reaction to my work. Laboring alone in the studio, it's hard to guess what will be liked, and to my surprise, the crowd favorite was Tile Fish, a piece that was a pure play thing for me. I should know by now: play brings joy, and joy brings radiance to what we do.

My favorite part of the exhibit was the educational program on Friday morning. Over 250 public school students of all ages took guided tours. I was one of the artists in attendance, ready to answer questions and discuss our art. The kids were shown the many ways artists see and interpret the world, the many media available for expression, the many subjects that inspire art.

The high-schoolers postured with expressions of boredom and apathy. But usually a kid would hang back and ask privately one or two questions out of hearing range of the others. At the other end of the spectrum, the second graders were full of interest and fascination. One over-excited group responded with gasps and wow's worthy of a circus performance. One boy said to me, "I have three dollars. Can I buy something here?" Upon hearing this, a second kid said, "I have five dollars!" At that moment I really wished I had something tangible to gift these wonderful boys because their awe at seeing my work was simply priceless.

A Pigeon, an Exhibit, a Bonfire and Marshmallows

Saturday had those unexpected bits and pieces that make for memorable days. It started with a pigeon.

This little guy hung around our front entrance for a couple of days before we noticed it had a leg band, was tame and maybe lost. We called the animal shelter and they came to the rescue. Our rescuer said it was a homing pigeon that probably belongs to somebody in Puerto Rico. They take the birds down island (like to Martinique) and race them back to PR, but some birds get tired and drop out of the race. When they land here on St. Croix, the rescuer feeds them, lets them hang out with the other pigeons, and releases them. Some go on, some stay. I can only guess why the pigeon chose our home, but I'm glad that he's in good hands now.

After dealing with the pigeon, we headed down to Cultural Creations of the Virgin Islands in Frederiksted for the opening reception of my art exhibit. It was a lovely night with a steady stream of visitors, and I was happy to finally show the product of my efforts these past few months.

The night was due to end with the exhibit, but we joined our friends down the street at Coconuts on the Beach for a beach bonfire and some great music by local band Rhythmix. The cool night breezes made the bonfire's warmth exquisite. There was a long stick and marshmallows, and so I had my first experience roasting marshmallows on an open fire (no girl scouts in my past). I had beginner's luck with the first marshmallow, but the next few... well... I'll have to attend more bonfires and keep practicing.

Two Shows and Three Fish

I've been sequestered this whole month in my home studio preparing for two shows in February. The Twenty-First Annual Caribbean Fine Art Exhibit at the Good Hope School will take place February 15-18, 2008, and I'll be one of about 60 artists showing our stuff at this, the largest art show on St. Croix.

Beginning on February 9 and for the rest of the month, I'll have a solo exhibit at Cultural Creations of the Virgin Islands, a new gallery that opened in Frederiksted a few months ago.

I'm almost ready for both shows. And yesterday I completed a quilt that sat on my design wall for about a month. I created the three fish, and then waited weeks until I knew what to do with them. I'm happy with the results. Here's a preview of the full quilt:


And here's a close up of the stitch work involved:

Krewe de Barkus Dog Parade

The spirit of Mardi Gras is alive and well here on St. Croix thanks to an enthusiastic crowd who yearly organize a series of "Mardi Croix" festivities. One such is the Krewe de Barkus dog parade which took place yesterday on the boardwalk in downtown Christiansted, to benefit the St. Croix Animal Shelter.

Proud owners parade their dogs in fine Mardi Gras regalia. Here are some notables:

Winner of the Funniest Costume, this little guy was a Rasta reveler, donning beads and a dreadlock hat that refused to stay on top of his head and became a dreadlock bib instead.

Winner of Best Overall were the Frenchies in flawless fashion.

Cutest and youngest, this 5-week old pup was rescued the day before, just in time to make the festivities.

Most spirited was this happy-go-lucky paraplegic dog, sporting all the flags of St. Croix around his wheelchair.

This trendy pooch had the best looking jeans in the crowd.

Our friend Michele and her son's dog in true Mardi Gras style.

And here, with a pair of two-legged canines and a stuffed doggie in his pouch, is our very own Dr. Hess, the best Vet on St. Croix, as voted by the local paper for several years running. My cat Calypso can vouch for this.

New Year, New Studio

After some heart wrenching deliberation, I decided to give up my studio at La Grande Princesse in favor of a home studio, one to which I go on a dime. Bob made a floor plan of our one-bedroom apartment to see if it would be feasible to move my 4' X 8' work table into a nook in our living room.
We discovered that it was possible if we got rid of our unused futon. We did, and I moved into that nook by the window, and in the process we rearranged our furniture such that the apartment actually looks more spacious!

The table fit perfectly, my fabrics fit under the table, and a couple of book cases were employed to house my quilting paraphernalia. We put up a design wall (foam covered with felt, nailed in place under a 1" X 3" board), and voila! Instant studio!

Oh, and I get a fabulous view to boot!

Slow Down Dinner at the Farm

Last night, in the silver light of the full moon, we had a lovely culinary experience at the Virgin Islands Sustainable Farm Institute. Nestled in the northwest hills of the island, the farm has 100 acres of orchards, gardens, and fields of organic produce that promote local and sustainable agriculture.

Once a month they host the general public to a 5-course dinner made with local ingredients. Last night was extra special because Chef Frank of Bacchus Restaurant fame (the best restaurant on the island), was in charge of the meal. With no set menu, giving Frank the freedom to create at will, the meal was a true gastronomic adventure.

It began with cucumber cups filled with Wahoo (local fish) ceviche, followed by tender greens in a lentil dressing. The ensuing eggplant ratatouille was the lightest I've ever tasted. The main course was a bed of risotto infused with soursop, topped with a very tender beef bourguignon, made with one of the feral cows that roam the hills of St. Croix. Yes, feral cows.

The whole affair was sweetened with a cheesecake in a gingersnap crust topped with passion fruit crème Anglaise. Throughout the meal, we sipped a German Gewürztraminer and a California Merlot, making the evening for a foodie like me, absolutely divine.

Happily, Frank very much enjoyed the experience too and is looking forward to hosting one of these Slow Down Dinners at the farm once a month in the coming year. Count me in!
ps-Thanks, Emy, for such a lovely treat!

Crab Races

Friends and family visited us last month, and so Bob and I got to trot the tourist routes. In particular, we took our guests to the crab races, a favorite activity among island visitors. Crab races? Yes, everyone has the same reaction.

St. Croix has a large population of hermit crabs (crabs that live, love and travel inside a sea shell, a sort of mobile home). Tiny as pebbles, or large as a fist (they migrate to larger shells as they grow), we see them crawling along on the side of the road, in gardens, and even on hilltops.

Local couple Tito and Sue saw the potential in these critters and set out to race them a few times a week at various beach bars around the island. For $2, you can sponsor a crab of your choice and give it a name, which gets written on masking tape on the seashell. Don't be fooled by size because the little ones can be very fast! All sponsored crabs go into an overturned bucket at the center of a large chalk circle. With Sue blaring a trumpet, Tito adding spirited commentary and the crowd cheering their crabs, the bucket is lifted and the race begins. The first crab to reach the circle line wins. There are a bunch of races and the winners get free dinners, jewelry, rum, snorkeling and kayaking trips, etc., all donated from local businesses.

We went to the races on our 18th wedding anniversary, so we aptly named our crab "18." It won us a free kayak tour in Salt River. And we went kayaking, we got a beautiful rainbow to boot!

Balance

What is the secret to finding balance between art and life? I'm pondering this question at the moment as I sit here recovering from a bout of bronchitis and wishing I had the energy to get myself to the studio. But this question will remain prevalent even after I am healed. Over the past few months I have been working part time for a local non-profit organization called Haiti Community Support (www.haitisupport.org). My job, as Managing Director, is to create a new infrastructure that will allow the organization to grow in order to fulfill its mission of helping forgotten remote Haitian villages through educational, health and economic programs.

It's a tall order for a part-time job in which I play strategist, web master, administrator, public relations consultant and marketer. But I do it because my heart is in it, and I enjoy bundling all my business skills into one cohesive package.

The challenge comes in switching gears from left brain to right brain, from task-driven and results-oriented to process-inclined and mood-prone. A seemingly good plan involved doing business in the morning and art in the afternoon, but I haven't had much art to show for this plan.

The downtime with bronchitis has afforded me this insight: art requires time, lots of focused, uninterrupted time with the muse. So I've got a new game plan: create a balance in terms of days, not hours.

This coming week I'll put it into action: block out entire days devoted to art, and structure work and other chores around this block. It looks good on paper. Life is not so linear, but if I stand my ground, I bet it can be done.

Stocking Up for Hurricane Season

For exactly half the year, from June to December, Saharan wind storms and warming seas make the Caribbean vulnerable to hurricanes. In the two years that I've lived here on St. Croix, the most I've seen are tropical waves: choppy seas with darkened skies full of rain and thunder, lasting one or two days. Lucky for us, and unluckily for Florida and the Gulf states, these waves have grown into full hurricanes well west of us.

But for St Croix residents, these calm years hardly erase the memory of Hugo, the Katrina that devastated St. Croix 18 years ago. As newcomers to the island, we notice the still-frequent references to Hugo by long-time residents, and we pay attention. We are lucky to live in a new house that was built with hurricanes in mind, so we have a hurricane shelter, a water supply stored in cisterns, a generator, windows and doors designed to withstand flying objects, and concrete walls that transform this place into a fortress.

In case of a big bad storm, or the aftermath in which food may be scarce, I've learned to stock up my pantry. I buy enough canned foods and goods to sustain us for a few weeks if necessary. Come December, I start using up all the goods in the pantry, and in June the restocking resumes.

Sailing the BVI

Last week we spent it sailing around the British Virgin Islands, one of the world's top sailing destinations and conveniently near St Croix. We flew to St. Thomas (here's a view of our St. Croix neighborhood from the plane) and chartered a 40-foot catamaran there. Then we sailed to St. John and worked our way up the island chains with stops in Jost Van Dyke, Tortola, Virgin Gorda and Anegada.



Days were spent sailing, swimming, snorkeling, napping, drinking and eating great food on board and at local restaurants, taking pleasure in the magnificent scenery and simply relaxing with our friends. Here are some of us enjoying happy hour on the boat.



For me, the best part of the trip was reveling in the full moon glow over the water, swimming with sea turtles and feeling Poseidon's expansive embrace. My favorite spot was Loblolly Beach in Anegada, pictured here. Anegada in general is a spectacular place. Very flat and very small (only about 200 residents), very shallow (hundreds of ship wrecks, making for great diving) and fabulous snorkeling. Not much to do but admire the surreal colors of the island.


The day of our return to St. Croix reminded me of what a wonderful place this is. We began the day on St. John with fabulous snorkeling in Great Lameshur Bay. We sailed back to St. Thomas and returned the boat. A 20 minute plane ride took us back to St. Croix. We went home, dropped off our bags and headed out to Coconuts on the Beach in Frederiksted to get our Kurt Schindler fix (our favorite musician, pictured here). Bob and I left the show midway and drove 10 minutes over to the Whim Museum grounds for a performance of Bluegrass music under the stars. When Bluegrass was over, we returned to see Kurt finish his last set.

Mamoncillo

When I moved to St Croix, I was elated to find on the roadsides trees laden with a fruit from my Colombian childhood: Mamoncillo. Except that here in the Virgin Islands they call it Genip and in Puerto Rico, Quenepas. Wikipedia saved me from trying to figure out how to describe it: "A mamoncillo fruit has a tight and thin but rigid layer of skin, traditionally cracked by the teeth. Inside the skin is the tart, tangy, yellow pulp of the fruit, which is sucked by putting the whole fruit inside the mouth (the seed takes most of the volume of what is inside the skin)."
Wikipedia also taught me some facts I didn't know about Mamoncillo: it's part of the Sapindaceae family, which includes the Lychee, the Rambutan, and the Ackee. The mamoncillo is commonly planted along roadsides as an ornamental tree, and according to Caribbean folk wisdom, girls learn the art of kissing by eating the sweet flesh of this fruit
There is a row of Mamoncillo trees that we pass on our morning walk. We've watched it fill with fragrant flowers and abuzz with bees in the spring. Then the tiny fruit began to grow, and now there are beautiful clusters of mamoncillos. I plucked this one and brought it home imagining the sweet tartness of the pulp. But when I cracked open the first one, it was too tart and not juicy enough. They're not quite ready yet, but soon... very soon...

Bartender Olympics

Last Sunday we attended the annual Bartender Olympics to benefit the St. Croix Animal Shelter. It was held on the beach at Protestant Cay, a small island in the middle of Christiansted Harbor. It was a fun day. Bartenders and servers competed in popping tops off beer bottles, running obstacle courses, mixing drinks, and so on. Our friend Joe had the tough job of jurying the competition, so he got to taste all the concoctions created by the bartenders, which also sold on auction for $80 to $250. Some of the creations included a Crucian Mimosa, Strawberry Cheesecake and the Natural Pina Colada, made with fresh pineapples and served inside the pineapple.

Rick of Molly Molone's in St. Thomas won Best Bartender. His castaway looks belied a sharp efficiency that left most other bartenders in the dust. Kirsten, his able server, should have won best server, but there was no such category. We stood behind them during the competition and cheered them on, and for our efforts we were rewarded with our very own free Natural Pina Colada, the very same potion that had just been auctioned for $250.

If You Could See Me Now

I have been convalescing from a cold I caught while in NJ, and today I spent time at the studio regrouping after some weeks away. It's hard for me to jump right in, especially with my current low energy levels, but I wanted to be back in my creative space, even if I wasn't going to be cranking out a new quilt right away.

I sat and leafed through the latest issue of Quilting Arts Magazine and read about the power of sketching to keep your creative juices flowing. The writer of the article also suggested collaging and creating altered books. A light went on in my head, and I was off to the nearby flea market to collect old magazines. I returned with a pile of issues of National Geographic, Islands, Southern Living, InStyle and some others, plus a 2006 ring-bound calendar titled American Impressionism.

It felt great just to sit and play with images, without committing myself to the thought process of designing a new quilt. I let the images call to me from the pages of the magazine and soon I had transformed the calendar's cover photo of Frederick Carl Frieseke's Woman with a Parasol into this:

Grandma Carmen

My beloved grandmother, Maria del Carmen Arango Ramirez, passed away on May 31 at the age of 89. She enjoyed 72 years of marriage to my 96-year old grandfather and was the matriarch of a large family who all agreed on one thing: every single member simply adored her. She conceived 13 children, who in turn had 22 grandchildren and, thus far, 17 great grandchildren (Daniel, the newest member, was born two days ago!).

We grew up living with Grandma, so in every sense she was a second mother to me. I had the honor of being by her side when she died. I spent 10 days in NJ with my family, learning to live without her. I'm back on St. Croix now and the realization that she is gone hasn't begun to sink in. Everything feels surreal. And yet, she lives in the spirit world, and she's visited my dreams smiling, hands on my shoulders, telling me she's happy and everything's alright. And so it is.

Center for the Quilt Interview

When I introduced myself to the Quiltart community, Karen Musgrave emailed me to say that she was interested in interviewing me for Quilters'
S.O.S. - Save Our Stories, a project of The Alliance for American Quilts (www.centerforthequilt.org). Other than job interviews, I don't think that I've ever been interviewed before. I wholeheartedly said yes!

The interview took place via email over a handful of days, with Karen sending me one question at a time. This surprised me because I had expected a questionnaire, but Karen's approach was much better. It flowed like an in-person dialogue. I thought about each question and answered it thoroughly. Karen thought about my answer and shaped the next question from it.

Another surprise was discovering the strength of my opinions. When she asked me about color, design, etc., there was no pondering and trying to understand how I felt about these subjects. I delivered a prompt answer with conviction. Working on my own, I can see how I've spent a great deal of time thinking about these issues and forming an opinion, but without the benefit of community exchange, I've had no place to voice these opinions. Here's the full interview.

Connected to Quiltart

Recently I stumbled into a site (www.quiltart.com) that offered a mailing list forum for art quilters. It sounded good so I signed up. What ensued was an avalanche of emails carrying a variety of information about quilting techniques and materials, deadlines for entering juried shows, how to transition quilting from hobby to business, celebratory notices about work completed, angst-ridden missives describing rough patches, encouragements, congratulations, heated discussions on the nature of art quilts: is it art?

I was overwhelmed and overjoyed. So much information to process, and yet, here is a community addressing the very issues I think about on my own. Denise (wildthreadstudio.blogspot.com/), a member of Quiltart, encapsulated this world of art quilting best when she wrote: "I think we are on the cusp of a very exciting time in the art world. The attraction of art quilts extends to people of all ages, genders and socio-economic backgrounds. Both a 73 yr old retired truck driver & a 22 yr old college student are equally fascinated with this art form. Lucky, lucky us...."

I sent out an email introducing myself to the forum and received a warm welcome. And now, for the first time in my quilting life, I feel connected.

Triathlon Weekend

This past weekend St. Croix was hopping with world-class athletes who came to compete in the annual St. Croix Ironman 70.3, a qualifying event for the 2007 Ironman World Championship to be held this fall in Kona, Hawaii. Over 500 athletes put themselves through a 1.2-mile swim at the Christiansted Harbor. Then they jumped on their bikes for a 56-mile bike ride along the North Shore and up a super-steep 600-foot hill affectionately called "The Beast." They returned to downtown Christiansted, dropped their bikes and wound down with a 13-mile run.

There was a Jump Up (street festival) on Friday night to welcome the athletes. Bob and I joined the crowds roaming the streets of downtown. We ate chicken skewers and Johnny cakes and stopped in at various street corners to listen to Jazz from the Central High Jazz Band, quelbe by Stanley and the Ten Sleepless Knight, steel pans, and finally, at the Caravelle Arcade we joined a throng of fans dancing to Kurt Schindler's music.

The actual triathlon took place on Sunday morning. Many main roads on the island were closed for the event, much to the chagrin of churchgoers looking for alternate routes. We stayed put at home most of Sunday, and in the late afternoon came out and drove away from the triathlon crowds to the west end of the island to watch a quiet sunset.