il Moderato

I'm not a clotheshorse. Shopping in large stores induces overwhelm and even if it looks good, if I don't feel comfortable in it, the item will soon gets relegated to the Goodwill or clothing-swap bag. Still, when I find items of clothing I like, I wear it until I can't be worn anymore: the favorite jeans that finally wear out in the butt, the green coat with threadbare buttons, the worn-down heels that can't be repaired. And then there's the limiter of living in a small house. I don't like clutter. Sometimes, I'm sad to realize I've donated something prematurely (When did I toss out the vintage clack cape with the green lining or my dad's old buckskin jacket?). But some things have persisted. Saturday I was happy to reach deep in the depths of the closet and find an old favorite jacket, that I can't justifiably wear everywhere anymore, but I that I can't part with either.

 "It's made entirely of recycled or repurposed materials," said the young New Zealander about the one-of-a-kind short coat I was trying on in the middle of her store. The gold-and-cream brocade jacket's material was as well suited for a couch as it was a body, but I immediately knew it was mine...even if it hadn't occurred to me to buy a jacket.  

I'd wandered into the eco clothing boutique not far from the Wellington ferry terminal, with no clear shopping objective. Past the initial reporting work, which had brought me to Auckland a few days, earlier, spontaneity and intuition were the themes of my third trip to New Zealand. It was the first time I'd traveled here as a freelance writer, and it was the first long trip I'd taken after a long relationship crashed and burned. After months of feeling blue, the trip to New Zealand offered some needed perspective on starting over. So as soon as I finished filing my report, I rented a car and decided I wouldn't follow a set itinerary for the next 10 days of vacation. I'd wake up each day and then decide where to go and what to do. 

Reading the paper at breakfast that day, I learned Wellington was hosting The New Zealand International Festival of Arts and off I went, catching the ferry across Cook Straight, between the North and South Island. With some time before the evening's performance, I window-shopped. And while I didn't know what I was looking for when I walked in the store, I gravitated toward the rack of jackets made from upholstery against the wall as if the garment were calling me. It was a bold jacket. Complete with black faux leather collar and zipper lining and slash zippered pockets that were roomy but not bulky, the jacket hugged me just enough at the waist to confirm curves without being tight. Durable, but stylish, ready for anything, rich but not ostentatious, it had a character I aspired to.  

I wore the jacket to the show that night, Mark Morris's L'Allegro, il Penseroso ed il Moderato, and I wore it for the plane ride home to San Francisco, still sandy, and now blissed out from my few days on the beaches of Golden Bay.  After 12 unplugged days of traveling by myself, soaking in hot springs on the Coramandel Peninsula, watching whales in Kaikoura, kayaking on the bay and eating mussels and thick toast with my feet in the sand, I was starting to feel a part of the living again.

I may have looked too happy. The security guard held me back, asking me to remove the jacket. I watched as he ran his fingers along and around the black collar, checking for contraband. But he stopped short of cutting into it when I protested, and, muttering, returned the jacket to me.

For several years, I wore the NZ coat everywhere. It went well with jeans and it worked over dresses.  The pockets could hold a few Cds, keys, lipstick, a cell phone and money. It made sense to wear in all but the hottest of weather. Always, someone would remark upon its specialness. In Paris, a woman stopped me on the Ile St Louis to finger the sleeves, circling me, appraising its cut, approvingly. It was slightly weird, she opined, maybe a little too heavy, but it worked. 

And like the well-loved sofa it would have become, it became faded and worn in places over the years. When the elbows began to go threadbare, it became something I only wore with jeans.  Today, more than 15 years after I bought it, it very seldom leaves its hanger, but I keep it as a reminder of the possibility I remembered when I bought it, as much as of the places I've been.

Artist Interview: Linda Ruggiero's Practiced Crafts

I first met Linda Ruggiero on my last trip Mysore, where we'd both traveled to study at the Ashtanga Yoga Research Institute and do some volunteer work for Operation Shanti. I soon found that Linda had a lot going on beyond her yoga practice. A PhD in biology, and an accomplished ceramicist with a love of knitting, she was a clear creative force! I've kept up with her on trips to New York, where she now lives, creates and practices. Shortly after she exhibited some of her work at Mugi Pottery, I asked her about life as a scientist and artisan.
Q: I love that you are both a scientist and an artist. Which came first? How do you find the disciplines complement one another?
LR: To be honest, I'm not sure which came first! I have always loved both — but I guess I started to see the connection while I was working in a cell biology lab at the University of Pennsylvania. I enrolled in post-baccalaureate classes in Fine Arts, with an emphasis on ceramics. Through my scientific research and the art I was producing, I became aware that there was an intimate connection between science and art. I was particularly intrigued by the ability of the visual system to process information about color, contrast and light in such a way that a complex image was formed within the brain. The steps beyond that processing — how the brain was able to associate this image with a particular emotion -was an extremely fascinating problem. I became interested in Visual Biology and went on to purse a doctorate in Neuroscience. I am currently studying retinal degeneration and continue to work in my studio making pots.

Q: How did you start knitting?
LR: I began knitting about 8 years ago when a friend of mine told me she learned from Debbie Stoller's book, "Stitch and Bitch". I had always done crafts and until then focused on jewelry and paper making. It was around this time that I had begun making pots as well. I particularly enjoy knitting, because I can take it with me anywhere I go. It is also very meditative.

Q: Do you see a relationship between your ceramic work and knitting? Have you ever combined the two mediums?
LR: I often see trends in my ceramic work that are influenced by knitting. They typically deal with surface texture. I love the tactile quality of both fiber and clay. Though I generally do not combine the two, there was a time when I would soak yarn in clay and use it to add texture to pots.

Q: Tell me about the Neurotrans-Knitters? Is it purely social/support or do you collaborate on designs or exhibit together? Have you started an NYC chapter?
LR: I think many knitters will say that knitting is a social craft. It is much better done in a group. So, as a Neuroscience graduate student, I began Neurotrans-Knitters, a knitting group at OHSU, where I was a student. The group quickly grew to about 50 members - some were expert knitters, while others had never knit before, so I just taught them. We met weekly and knit together on individual projects. We also knit for charity by making small hats for premature infants at the neonatal ward in Doernbecher Children’s Hospital. I have not started a NY chapter, though I joke about it.

Q: You're very committed to giving back, whether it's teaching, building community, or donating proceeds from sales to charities. Can you talk about what leads you to that sensibility?
LR: My parents were always very generous, and they both taught me to be that way. When my father was young, he used to dress up like Santa Claus and bring toys to the children in poorer neighborhoods in Brooklyn. When he died on Christmas morning, my mom said he died at the time when Santa would be finished giving his gifts. I love that. I feel that giving helps me keep his memory. I believe strongly that everyone has something to give. Even if it isn’t money — sharing a talent or donating time — are great ways to share.

Q: What, or who, inspires you? Do you have any mentors or role models?
LR: The children I teach inspire me. Cliche, I know. But they do. They see things simplistically. Plus, they think I’m 18. Laura Peterson, the Founder of Hands to Hearts International has been a very positive influence in my life. I look up to her so much. Eddie Stern, my yoga teacher, always inspires me to be a better person. He has taught me the importance of discipline and caring for myself as well as others. David Straker, my osteopath, is likely one of the most amazing humans on earth. He believes in me more than anyone, and has taught me to believe in myself, too. And my parents, who taught me about love and generosity.

Check out Linda's work at http://www.fatto-a-linda.com/ and http://www.etsy.com/shop/lindabelinda

softs goods and inspiration

A combination of spending A LOT of time in front of a computer, and Thanksgiving's approach, have rendered my preoccupations other than online media decidedly low-tech: cooking and shopping and listening while I do said activities.
I walk past Backspace each day on my way to and from Ashtanga Yoga San Francisco and when I saw this green coat, I thought 'mine.' It's not horribly pricey but because I've other budgeted items before a new coat, already bought the red patent leather shoes last week, and am not doing cards, I put it on layaway yesterday, an option I found delightfully archaic. I felt like I was eight years old, when I 'saved up' for things I wanted...
In the kitchen it's all about winter squash, specifically pumpkins and kabocha squash (Japanese pumpkin). Sweeter than a butternut, denser than Western pumpkins and easy to bake. So a lot of soup and curry happening...
In my ears, a comparing musical tastes conversation yesterday found me raving about the greatness of Alejandro Escovedo (his Great American show a couple months back provided serious inspiration) so I've been revisiting his stuff. Also listened to John Mayer's new tune "Say." Whatever you may think of his mainstreamness, I tend to think he hits the mark pretty well, pretty often, though Alejandro does the same and cuts deeper ....