Recology Tour

What was I talking about before I headed off on a summer tangent? Oh, that’s right—trash. I have more to say about trash.

Since Wyatt was tiny and we did our Spring Break Factory Tours, he has wanted to tour Recology. Recology describes itself as “an integrated resource recovery company providing compost, recycling and disposal services to homes and businesses in the Western United States.” To us, it’s where Cam, the guy who picks up our landfill/recycling/compost, works. It’s where artists in residence create the work they present to the community. And it’s the place we affectionately call the dump. When I was setting up our tours that spring, I called Recology and learned that they required all tour participants to be 3rd grade or older—8 or 9 years old. So we began our first age-milestone-countdown. And you can bet we were on the first tour that was available after Wyatt’s 8th birthday.

Recology offers tours of their facility on Tunnel Avenue on Saturdays and Wednesdays. Tours of Pier 96, where they actually sort everything, are offered only on Wednesdays, so we of course booked a Wednesday tour (after getting permission for Wyatt to miss school that day).

Part of artist Alicia Escott’s exhibit earlier this year.

I don’t have many photos—tour rules require you to watch where you’re walking and keep your phones put away. To see the work they do there—to begin to grasp the manual and computerized state-of-the-art sorting they accomplish and fathom how much trash we produce on a daily basis —you’ll need to make a reservation and go on a tour yourself. It’s an astonishingly good way to spend a Wednesday morning. Even though we were already working towards minimizing waste, this tour made us more acutely aware of the problems of waste, especially plastics. (Just a heads up, it is particularly demoralizing to go grocery shopping right after this tour.) Since the tour, I’ve become far more vocal and proactive in contacting companies about their choice of packaging. Maybe you will notice a shift in your outlook and behaviors, too.

The tour starts in the learning center with a short video about how Recology works. After the video, there’s a question and answer session, and the learning specialists are amazing. One of the men on our tour had brought a bag of all the trash he was unsure about—was it to be recycled? Or was it destined for landfill? He asked about every single piece, even after the educators gave us the general rules about how to think about what goes where. And they answered all his questions. Recology is truly on a mission to educate. Some tour participants asked where internationally Recology sells and sends its recycling (they’re not telling). After having walked through the sorting facility at Pier 96, all of us on the tour had begun to really grasp how recycling is way better than not recycling, but because plastics basically live forever and cause so much pollution, recycling isn’t really a long term solution to our trash problem.

Here are the notes I took during the question and answer session in the learning center, and after the tour at Pier 96:

Every day in San Francisco, Recology picks up 650 tons of recyclables, 700 tons of compost and 1200 tons of black bin “londfill,” 60% of which is recyclable (note: we all need to get way better at sorting our trash).

Recycling/Blue Bin: Clean paper, glass, hard plastic, cans, coffee cups, milk containers.

STOP WISH-CYCLING: Wish-cycling is where you say to yourself, “This is totally recyclable!” and stick it in the blue bin, sometimes without really thinking, and sometimes just to make yourself feel better, hoping that it actually is recyclable. The reality is that when you put non-recyclable things into the recycling stream, it “pollutes” the recyclables—making things that would have been recyclable too dirty to be recycled. Consider a piece of cling film full of gooey food that then gets all over the previously clean paper in the recycling bin. Now that paper can’t be recycled. Wish-cycling is a problem.

Compost/Green Bin: Food, soiled paper, garden clippings

“Biodegradable/Plant Friendly” language on packaging does NOT mean it is compostable. That kind of wording is nonsense marketing language. Check if the packaging says “compostable.” If it does, then it is. Cardboard coffee cups and milk cartons are actually coated in a thin layer of plastic, so they will NOT compost. That’s why they go in the blue bin.

Black Bin: Everything else. Especially things like strings and things that could get caught in the sorting equipment. Chip bags, loose or dirty bags, all that stuff goes here.

If you take your stuff to the dump (like I did, during spring cleaning), you’ll notice there’s a special section for things that can be reused, repurposed, or reimagined into art. In addition to running the art program, Recology also works with the St. Vincent De Paul organization to reuse items that are still good. A lot of the things I brought to the dump ended up in this area.

Here are some photos from the most recent Recology Artists In Residence (AIR) Exhibit. The next show is the weekend of September 20, 2019.

Make More Art; Eat More Frangipane

This summer, Wyatt spent several weeks at art camp. This past week, we decided it was time to document the work he had done. I'm so glad we did the documenting step. Taking photos of the projects allowed him to appreciate his work and decide which of it he wanted to keep (and which could be recycled, because, let's be real, enough with the four grocery bags of artwork in the dining room). It was fun going through the projects with him. I got to hear what he liked, what was hard, and what was amazing.

I know we'll revisit some of these projects, and I'm betting that some of you could use some art project inspiration, so I'm sharing my notes and photos here. One project that is omitted from most of the photos is the new sketch book the kids got and decorated every week. Wyatt had already distributed them around the house (so he can always be ready to sketch).

Animals in Art

• Animal Paws: Kid-sized rubber gloves decorated with glued or taped fur and foam claws.
• Mounted Animal (Pig) Head: Cardboard mounting board, crumpled newspaper, masking tape to help shape and hold it all together, box from bar soap to make the chin, toilet paper roll for snout, pink and black paint.
• Fish Wind Sock: Paper (choose paper that's a little on the drapey, thin but fibrous side, not crisp, more like a tyvek envelope), dowel, string, wire. Fold the paper lengthwise and draw the outline of a fish-shaped windsock so the belly is on the fold line. Cut along the outline (but not the belly) and unfold the paper. Decorate with paint (head, fins, scales). Glue the cut sides together. Find the space for the mouth (cut wider if needed). Take a wire and wind it into a circle that's the size of the mouth. Glue the edges of the paper fish over the wire "like lipstick." Attach a string at the mouth and then attach the other end of the string to the dowel so you can run around with it behind you and it will catch air and fly.
• Animal and Habitat: Habitat cut from manila folder and folded. Decorate and glue it so it is 3-D. Add a snake (or whatever animal lives in the habitat you made) made out of clay. Make designs in the clay with a toothpick. Once the sculpture is dry, you can even paint it GOLD.

Most favorite: Mounted Pig Head.

Printmaking

Solar Printing: Lots of companies sell the paper you'll need. Here's one. This project is most fun if you have a piece of plexiglass that's as big as your piece of paper. It will hold your paper and items down nicely.  Key is to have a big piece of plexiglass to hold your design in place

Stamps: Make stamps out of foam you can cut and stick to cardboard pieces, or take some styrofoam type material you can "draw" on with a pencil to make an indent. Then ink the stamp and press it on paper.

Marbling: I am not sure how they did this. Wyatt has described it over and over, to the point of frustration, but I think I'm missing something. Here are some tutorials: Japanese Water Marbling and another that uses a thickener in the water, and this one that uses shaving cream (but I know for sure this was not what they did--they definitely used a water bath).

Salad Spinner Painting: Here's a tutorial. Wyatt noted the importance of having a salad spinner for painting, and a separate one for salad.

Most favorite: Making the X print. Take a plastic platform, and put paint or ink on it. Put two pieces of paper down in an X. Put another piece of paper on top of the X and the paint. Pick up the paper and now you have an X without any paint!

Most Frameworthy of the Summer: Draw on styrofoam with a pencil, roll ink on the styrofoam, print the image on three different colored papers, mount all three on a black mat, then visit your favorite local framing store to spiff it up even more. We love Underglass in the Castro.

Drawing and Painting

Scroll: First, make your paintbrush.  Assemble four q-tips in a row and sandwich them between two pieces of cardboard. Tape securely. Now you can paint four parallel lines with one swipe of your brush. Take a long piece of paper and paint with watercolor on it. Do the same on another piece of paper. Then use your brush to paint black, wavy lines on the scroll, and on the other piece of paper. Cut out shapes from the other piece of paper. Angle them so they give contrast on the scroll. Glue them down. For both ends of the scroll, take a strip of black paper and put glue on the black piece, stick the white piece down on the black, glue a straw along the middle of the black paper and then fold the rest of the black piece over the straw and onto the white scroll. Glue the second side of the black paper down. Feed a string through the straw.

3-D model: Build one out of paper! Paint both sides and then fold it so it stands up.

Most Favorite Project: Scroll.

Mixed Media

Collage work this week was inspired by Gee's Bend Quilts and Stuart Davis.

Painted Fabric Pillow: Cut matching shapes, paint them, glue around the edges and stuff with polyfill or other stuffing.

Photo Collage: One in black and white and one color. Take a picture with a camera and then print it. Use paint pens and colored paper to make a self-portrait. You can even put underwear on your head!

Most Favorite: Self portrait. The one with the underwear.

And no, we are not over frangipane yet. This weekend, we made Food 52's Apple Galette with Tahini Frangipane & Honey-Hibiscus Glaze. It's terrific, especially if you can't eat nuts. We concluded we love this galette--the tahini and apple flavors work together beautifully. I used the same gluten-free pie crust recipe as I used last week, and it was a tiny bit less annoying to work with than last time. The crust of this galette was way better than last week's too, probably because this recipe calls for a much higher oven temperature and a pizza stone on the bottom rack. Finally, the magic of the honey-hibiscus glaze cannot be overstated. Try it and prepare to be amazed at how it comes together into a perfect syrup. I bet it would be good even if you can't find (or be bothered to find) dried hibiscus flowers.

Color Factory!

Social media has its good points. You know that feature where you can see the things your friends have said they're "attending" or "interested in?" I love that feature. That feature is how I found out about the Color Factory.

The Color Factory is a pop-up museum that invites us to experience color in the context of immersive, interactive installations. There are colors in light, paint, ribbon, paper, and more, and it's all around you. It's amazing.

I've been listening voraciously to A Piece of Work, and thinking about how our experience with modern art is all about how we interact with a piece, how it makes us feel, and what it makes us think. There's so much room for pondering all these questions at the Color Factory. They also give you snacks.

Here are some of the photos from Wyatt's and my journey through a sea of colors, textures, sounds, and experiences.

This was a museum at its best. Color Factory tickets are available through September, here.

Breakfast For Dinner

I know three people who love eating breakfast for dinner: Wyatt, our friend Margaret, and me. And when I say love, I mean we LOVE IT. We anticipate it, plan it, cook it, and eat it with a level of gusto that many people reserve for Christmas or Thanksgiving.

BFD didn't start out as BFD. It started as Margaret coming over to have drinks and do crafts with me after Wyatt was in bed. It was terrific. I got friend time while we worked on fun projects, taught each other new skills, and talked about big things. Also, her being game for a pretty scruffy and low-rent version of a night out freed me from the stress of worrying I'd be late meeting her somewhere or would have to cancel at the last minute because Marc was delayed. Soon, though Wyatt understandably began complaining that he wasn't getting any Margaret time on those craft evenings, so we invited her to come over for dinner, too. I cooked and served actual dinner food. That combination of dinner-crafts-and-drinks was even better. But, the evolution was complete when we realized our shared love of BFD. If you ask me, when you add art or craft to BFD, an evening reaches new heights.

I think BFD with Margaret may be a tradition already. We always make waffles,* bacon, and some form of eggs (scrambled, frittata, or mini-frittata-in-muffin-tins-with-chive-flowers-on-top). We also have salad--fruit or vegetable. One salad was roasted beets with greens, goat cheese, and a citrus dressing. Another was cut fruit. It's quite the celebratory spread. Usually, Wyatt and I cook some of the things, and Margaret brings some of the things and finishes cooking or assembling them at our house.

Last week, Margaret had a free afternoon, so she came over early. She gave us a drawing lesson.

And then we cooked together. I learned how to cook bacon in the oven, and Margaret got to see me make the waffles in real time. Wyatt thought the flowers growing on the chives would be a lovely garnish to the mini-frittatas, so he was Chief Frittata Decorator.

Then, we ate together. We all agreed BFD was even more incredible than usual. Marc concurred later (but his love of BFD is less overwhelming than Margaret's, Wyatt's and mine).

After Wyatt was in bed, Margaret and I had more time to catch-up, uncensored.

Going out is fun, and being fancy can be SO FUN. But "out" and "fancy" are hard for me to muster these days. Lately, I'm so grateful for a friend like Margaret who meets me--literally and figuratively--where I am.

*For waffles, I make a double recipe of Pamela's waffles. I substitute half of the baking mix with It's Wholesome Hi-Protein Pancake mix, add more water until the batter is the right consistency, and strategically drop in blueberries just before closing the waffle iron.

Art, Music & Dance

"Mom. Maybe we can bring the cassette player downstairs so I can keep listening while I get ready for my recital."

I wonder if I will ever have a better, more unexpected parenting moment than getting my son ready for his first dance recital to the wobbly-sounding tunes of dump-rescued cassette recordings.

Saturday was a huge day. It was Dance Recital Day. Fortunately it was also other things, too, like the reception for the Recology Art Exhibition, because it's a long day when the thing you're most excited about is at the end.

In the morning, Marc and Wyatt worked on some paper airplanes while I was at the gym and did some errands. Once I was home, we opted for an early lunch. Wyatt learned how to make tuna melts.

After lunch, Wyatt and I headed off to Tunnel Avenue to check out the art show (while Marc went on a super-secret errand to buy flowers for after the recital). We enjoyed the art show just as much as the last one. Wyatt loved Carrie Hott's exhibit the most, and Nathan Byrne's almost as much. The projects were so amazing that we had to keep reminding ourselves that every single thing, down to the paint, had been sourced from the dump. The "free table" was really fun this time--lots of cassette tapes. Wyatt chose to bring home two of them, a commercial recording of Diana Ross, and a home recording of Lionel Richie. He has been listening to both of them, punctuated occasionally with Marc's tape of The Cure's Greatest Hits, nonstop.

When we returned from Recology, it was showtime. Or at least time to great ready for showtime.

Thanks to the direction (and infinite patience) of guest teacher and choreographer Byb Chanel Bibene, Wyatt and his classmates performed a dance evoking the Mbouanda Celebration in the Niari, a department in the Republic of the Congo. In addition to having a solo, Wyatt was really looking forward to the body paint Byb promised to do for him, and he was awfully excited to hang out backstage without Marc or me and do crafts until his group's turn.

The recital was everything (and more) you'd expect from a performance of 160 children. We were thoroughly entertained for the entire 75 minutes. Wyatt's class performed the final dance, and Wyatt was the first one on stage. He couldn't have looked happier or have been more attentive to his performance. I smiled so hard for him that my cheeks started to hurt.

After the show, as Wyatt led me backstage to get his flip-flops and flannel shirt, he explained how fun it was backstage, how hidden the stage door was, and how I didn't know where anything was, but he did.  And he explained his body paint came from a big jar that Byb had brought with him.

"Look. Byb drew Congolese suns on my front and back. He didn't even have to use any brushes. I can't wait for the next show. When IS next year's show?"

More Spring Color

I am delighted to report that Easter 2017 was our best year yet for egg dyeing! We lost only one egg due to cracking (during cooking, in the onion skin dye), and we lost one to the garden during the hunt. Fun fact: Naturally dyed eggs camouflage very well in nature.

Not only did we get amazing color from both of the methods we used (this tutorial and this kit), but the eggs were cooked perfectly. We steam boiled the eggs for the kit dyeing and with the homemade dyes, we cooked the eggs in the dyes. Whether or not the eggs are cooked well matters greatly to us because most years, I hide the eggs, Wyatt hunts them, and then we all work together to make egg salad of them for lunch. The steam boiled eggs were easier to peel than the others, but whatever. Our lunch was scrumptious.

I still have no idea where I hid that one missing egg. But my memory lapse probably made a raccoon's Easter pretty happy.

E. Bunny made Wyatt's Easter pretty happy, too. ("E. Bunny" followed by a drawing of rabbit ears is how the Easter Bunny signs notes to Wyatt. Same at your house, too, right?) Easter was so happy, in fact, that Wyatt reported the butterflies in his stomach continued fluttering around for hours even after he had discovered his gifts. Wyatt received a pretty large (but hollow, because E. Bunny knows our limits) chocolate bunny. It was the "best breakfast dessert ever." Wyatt also received a huge box of colored pencils and a sketchbook, just like he had been requesting for months. If the number of new drawings around the house are any indication, there's nothing like beautiful new art supplies to inspire creativity.

After spending Monday morning on housework (because spring break continues this week!) we headed downtown to check out the Diane Arbus and Matisse/Diebenkorn exhibitions at SFMOMA. Wyatt opted to leave his camera at home and bring his sketchbook and colored pencils instead. He requested that our first stop be at Richard Serra's sculpture, Sequence. We walked through it, and then he sat and drew (for just shy of two minutes) what he had experienced.

Once in the Matisse/Diebenkorn exhibition (which was crowded), we looked at the various paintings and discussed similarities and differences we saw in the artists' works. We also noticed a woman sitting awkwardly, perched on the corner of a bench full of people. She was fully engrossed in sketching a Matisse using two colored pencils, one in each of her hands. After watching her for a few moments, we walked on, and we talked about how amazing her drawing was. About mid-way through the exhibit, Wyatt suddenly stopped and scooted himself into a little spot on a corner of a different bench full of people. While I juggled the trays of pencils, he began selecting colored pencils that would match Richard Diebenkorn's Ocean Park #6. He then sketched for about ten minutes, totally oblivious to everything else that was going on.

When Wyatt was done, he declared he was starving, and we had to hustle through the rest of the exhibition in search of the cafe.

How better to top off magical artistic moments than by sharing a flourless chocolate cake at a table adorned with an orchid? Well, one way would be by having your very own flourless chocolate cake at that same pretty table. Regardless, shame on me for waffling on whether to renew our SFMOMA membership next month. Of course we will.

Camera Love

"Mom. The art show was great. I took pictures of as much of the artwork as I could before I thought my camera battery was going to run out. I even took one of the entrance. That way you can see what the show was like! Did you know you walk into the gallery through a cafe? And in the front of the gallery, they had drinks and in the back they had snacks and I had TWO cookies?"

I mean, I couldn't ask for much more, could I? There I was, stuck in bed, violently ill, missing out on Rose's art show reception at Gallery House in Palo Alto this Sunday, but Marc and Wyatt brought me what they could. The fact that there is a blog post at all this week is thanks to them. "Reflect" is on display through March 25, and you can find more details here.

When Wyatt was about three years old, I gave him my old Kodak EasyShare camera. After watching us take photos with our phones and the fancy DSLR, he understandably wanted in on the action. I made him a wrist strap out of ribbon. I told him he absolutely had to wear it whenever he used the camera because the camera would break if he dropped it. I also showed him how to turn the camera on and off and how to keep it in the case. He has taken his responsibility for the camera really seriously, and I love that. Flipping though the photos he has taken over the years is hilarious. Little kids have a point of view, and as grown-ups, we don't often get to see the world from their perspective.

Initially, Wyatt had real misgivings about allowing me to share these photos. He may have even howled about how he didn't want anyone to see them. But he eventually came around after seeing that the lighting in the photos wasn't as bad as he thought it was. I wish I were kidding.

Here are the highlights of the show, according to Wyatt. (The low-resolution is on me, since it's my old camera.)

And here he is cooking dinner for Marc on Sunday night. And of course that's him at the top of this post in his Symphony finery. The things I miss when I'm ill are astonishing. Maybe this is what it feels like to not be the primary parent. Maybe I should complain less.

I've gotten into the habit of including a recipe in my posts most weeks, but I'm really not quite there yet with the whole eating thing. I can, however, suggest you get some reusable glass straws. They don't affect the taste of your drink like a metal one can, and they are much better for the environment than the disposable kind. I can also highly recommend the Avgolemono Soup I made today. Those of you who have known me for a long time will enjoy the irony of how I ended up with a child who prefers Greek chicken soup over all other kinds, and how it's now the only kind of chicken soup I make. Anyway. Try this recipe (but skip the dill and consider using whole eggs unless you have a special plan for the whites), or this recipe, or come up with a hybrid of the two. I go a little bit light on the lemon to start and add more to the pot as I taste. You may also need to adjust the salt as you go. Finally, you absolutely have to temper the egg-lemon mixture with the hot soup the way the recipes say, or else you'll end up with egg-drop soup instead.

The Year of the Cock

Here's a song I think you might love: "I'm Gonna Walk It With You."

Could Brian Claflin and Ellie Grace's song be more beautiful, uplifting, inspiring, or on point? I don't think so. It's exactly the kind of song I need playing in my head right now, and it truly warms my heart to feel the kindness and strength of character behind it. Maynard Moose may have sparked my affection for the Claflin-Darrigrand family decades ago, but my appreciation for them and their work is still growing.

Wyatt and I listened to this song at least a dozen times today. Part way through dinner, he hummed and sang, "I will face the man in the tallest tower..." but then he stopped. "Who's the man in the tallest tower? A king?" "Maybe," I said. "It could be anyone who's directing things or making rules from somewhere so high, you can't reach." "Ah. Like a king. Mom. Can we listen to that thing we listened to over there on that sofa, that thing where all the voices told the story about the King in England who burned houses and threw people into the water? Does that story only happen at a certain time of year? Or can we hear it now? You know the one I mean, right?" No. I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. And I was shocked by my obvious lack of judgment. But after some further questioning, I realized he meant NPR's reading of the Declaration of Independence. The 2016 reading is here. We listened again tonight, and I caught myself holding my breath several times.

How did you spend your weekend? I spent a lot of it outraged, sad, and reading news reports and social media posts as the events around the Muslim Ban began to unfold. On Sunday, though, we celebrated with friends and strangers at the Asian Art Museum, ushering in The Year of the Rooster (or Cock, if you prefer!) with crafts, art, stunning student performances, and Chinese traditions. 

Over the past week, I have been consuming way more news than salad, and that balance needs to change. We made a stunning seasonal salad on Saturday night: Spinach with pomegranate seeds and blood oranges, tossed with a balsamic vinaigrette. For the vinaigrette, I used the usual 1 tablespoon vinegar and 3 tablespoons olive oil, salt, and also added about a 1/4 teaspoon of tarragon mustard. Wyatt and Marc were tasked with pomegranate seed removal. To get them started, I quartered the fruit by cutting out the flower-end of the pomegranate with a paring knife, inserting my thumbs, and then prying the fruit into four pieces. We also had a swoon-worthy Creamy Tomato-Fennel Soup, thanks to Catherine Newman's recipe. 

Let's look out for one another as we move into another week.

(Resist, resist, resist! Donate, support, speak-up, and connect. Rinse and repeat.)

Rising Up

Last Friday afternoon, despite my deep dismay at the inauguration, I was feeling pretty okay. I had been successfully avoiding media coverage, and I was few minutes ahead of schedule in rainy weather heading to school to pick Wyatt and his friend up at school. That feeling vanished while I waited at a stoplight, heard a crash behind me, and then a split-second later, heard and felt another thudding jolt to the back of my car. I yelled, thumped the steering wheel, and then called Wyatt's school to let them know I'd be late for pick-up.

The three of us drivers were rattled, but unhurt. I had steeled myself for unpleasantness with the rear-enders, but I needn't have bothered. This was probably the most kind and pleasant car accident anyone could ever experience. The only vaguely angry interaction in the entire situation was a grumpy driver who shook his fist out the window and told us that the van driver who had started everything REALLY should turn his hazard lights on. But not even he uttered an expletive. The van driver, who was quivering, apologized profusely for confusing his accelerator with his brake. The poor woman in the middle looked at him, unable to steady her own hands, and said generously, "Well, accidents happen. Let's exchange information." Pretty much all that was left for me to do was to empathize and compliment these two drivers' legitimately attractive license photos, so I did. While we were standing by our cars snapping photos of each others' documents (remember when you had to carry a pen and paper for such things?), one guy came out of a cafe, into the rain and without a jacket or umbrella, to make sure we were all okay. Shopkeepers shouted to us to make sure no one was hurt. And all the passers-by on foot stopped to say how sorry they were that the accident had happened. I blame the inauguration for the van driver's pedal confusion. And while car repair is a giant pain, I am so grateful to know I live in a city that was ready to be so incredibly kind on Friday, January 20, 2017.

And then? Saturday was a busy day: art, hair appointments, and the Women's March rally.

For months, I have had on our calendar the opening of the Recology Art Exhibition. I was so excited to go, and it was even better than I had imagined it would be. "Make Art, Not Landfill," as the t-shirts I bought for us say, doesn't even begin to convey the astounding effort and astonishing artwork the three artists created during their 4-month residencies.

Jinmei Chi's Dizz Mall experience, complete with mall music playing and a sales circular (my copy of which I told her I couldn't possibly give back because it is just so good), was so captivating that Wyatt insisted we go back so he could ask her if he could buy one of her products. She kindly told him that she wasn't permitted to sell anything, but she was glad to know how much the show had affected him.

Ramekon O'Arwisters connected with every single person who wanted to participate in his crochet jam, or talk about his art, or ask him questions about himself or his process. As he explained to Wyatt while teaching him to crochet in about two minutes, "It's not complicated, just unfamiliar." And yes, I've been repeating that inspired saying to myself several times a day ever since. Ramekon talked about how his current art projects invite participation, how there are no rules, and how important those aspects are to art. He also mentioned that the shards of pottery in his sculptures are sharp, just like us, until we start to rub up against each other.

Anja Ulfeldt's kinetic sculptures had a "magical attic" feel to them. Air and sound brought everything to life. I was so pleased to tell her how much we had loved her work at the Museum of Craft and Design.  She told me the most challenging and best part of this show was not being able to plan anything when she started. You just have to see and collect what you find in the dump, and go from there.

That afternoon, Marc, Wyatt and I made our way downtown with our homemade signs and rain gear. Traffic was basically at a standstill, partly in anticipation of the Women's March, and partly because of the annual anti-abortion march that took place earlier in the afternoon. Once coiffed, we walked to Civic Center, with our friend (and supremely talented stylist), Susan, to participate in the rally. I have never been in such a large crowd before, and people were as energized as they were kind. It was a wonderfully inspiring and encouraging warm-up for more activism. (If you're looking for a bite-sized, easy, organized way to take action daily, I encourage you to sign up with Daily Action for their text alerts).

In other more mundane news, we are still eating dinner! You probably are, too. A new recipe I tried this week is for Spaghetti Squash Casserole. As my aunt promised me, it's terrific. And this endorsement is coming from me, a person who finds spaghetti squash decidedly unappealing because of it's tendency to be watery and/or prepared with spices that remind me of dessert. I made two versions of the casserole, one with mushrooms and one with mushrooms and ground buffalo (because, weirdly, I had that and not ground beef in the fridge). All three of us loved it. The recipe took longer than most weeknight dinners to prepare, but we ate it for three days as leftovers, and good leftovers are basically like a mini-vacation, so to me that's winning.

My changes to the recipe were: make two casseroles in two glass pie dishes, sautée about a pound of sliced mushrooms, use a whole jar of Rao's Basil Marinara sauce plus the crushed tomatoes (we needed more sauce), skip the stevia and chicken broth (because WHY would you use those), and put an extra layer of mozzarella in the middle of the casserole (mostly because the name of the recipe's website made me feel contrary). Also? Dry that spaghetti squash as much as you can. I literally squeezed it in my hands (although twisting it in cheese cloth would have worked great, come to think of it) to extract as much of the water as I could. It was worth the effort.