I love looking for public domain photographs. For those of you who don't know what that means, it means work that is not under copyright so you can do whatever the heck you want with it. A lot of really famous photographs from Dorothea Lange and others are in the public domain because they were working in the FSA government program.There are also some really beautiful ones by Ansel Adams of Japanese internment camps that I really love.The best place to find them is at the Library of Congress. You can also order prints from there that are supposedly good quality and don't cost very much. A while ago I took some of the images and added text to them, among other things. I'm sure I'll more images again sometime. The possibilities for ideas and inspiration are endless when you have such great material.
Although I like this blog to be a sort of journal of my creative work and processes, part of what forms who I am is that I have lived abroad for almost exactly ten years. Because of this, I occassionally want to write pieces on what it is like to be a perpetual expat (and yes, no matter how much you assimilate, part of you is always "other". But I like this for the most part.) The following text was actually something I wrote for a blog I keep on MySpace about a year ago. I still keep that blog, but it has morphed into a dream journal. If you would like to read some of my wacky nighttime wanderings then click here
That Germany is a country of major hypochondriacs was something I discovered when I first moved here in the spring of 1999. That spring and following summer I had to take a lot of naps, something I wasn't used to having not previously been much of a napper, but I was always feeling so weak and listless that I inevitably lay down some time in the afternoon. In retrospect, I think I was suffering for a major case of homesickitis, but at the time I was seriously concerned that something might be wrong with me. So I asked my (German) boyfriend and he told me it was clear: I was suffering from Kreislaufprobleme. My German not being very good at the time, I was impressed with the ominous sound of the disease and went around telling other Germans "I'm suffering from Kreislaufprobleme" after which they would give me a solemn, knowing nod. However, at some point I found out that the translation for the word was merely circulation problems. Circulation problems?? "Are you sure I have Kreislaufprobleme?" I asked my boyfriend. "I thought circulation problems were something you first get when you're around 70." "Oh yes. Now go lay down with this Warmflasche (hot water bottle)until you feel better." As time progressed I soon discovered that just about everyone is complaining about Kreislaufprobleme in Germany. And I'm not talking about people hanging about the geriatics ward, I'm talking teenagers on up. If they ever feel light-headed, weak, tired or generally under the weather then they are sure that it is an attack of serious Kreislaufprobleme. Not that there is any medicine or remedy that will cure these odious Kreislaufprobleme, but it does give them something to complain about which is another widely practiced national past time.
Keeping in sync with complaints that, in the U.S, would only come out of the mouth of an 85 year old woman named Violet, Germans are also deathly afraid of drafts. By drafts they don't mean the cold that sneaks under doors in winter and is, admittedly, unpleasant. No, in Germany a draft is any time the air is moving, even in summer when the rest of us would call it a "refreshing breeze". In the summer, people in the U-Bahn will often close the top window (the cars are, of course, not air-conditioned)and then shoot the person who opened it a dirty look as though to say "do you want us all to catch our death of cold?"
Every American who has been together with a German has had to deal with these hypochondriac tendencies. Still, they do vary in intensity. The only time I've heard my (German) husband say anything along these German health lines was when he told me everyone must always wear a scarf indoors when he has a cold. When I told him how incredibly German that was and how in the U.S. we actually have cold medicine that works (don't get me started on that one)he just said, "Maybe that's true. But it always makes me feel better." Reasonable enough and easy to respect. Still, if, in the middle of an August heat wave, someone said "es zieht" (there's a draft) I can guarantee he would jumped up immediately and close the window.
A friend of mine had a girlfriend from the former East Berlin who was really extreme with this German health stuff. Whenever she would ask her, "Why do you believe that anyway?" her girlfriend would say "Because my grandmother told me so." (Hence proving my theory about the 85 year old named Violet...) Anyway, my friend was open to taking the dirt when she had a stomachache (it clears out the toxins, you see)but she absolutely put her foot down when it came to the red light bulb. She had a cold and her girlfriend told her to shine a red light bulb down her throat. These red light bulbs are completely normal and available at any pharmacy. "No red light bulb," my friend said. I'm not sure if that is why, but they broke up several months later.
Red light bulb aside, my absolute favorite German hypochondriac item are kidney warmers. A lot of Germans are very, very concerned about their kidneys getting too cold so, in the winter, they wear this padded belt under their clothes to keep them warm called, appropriately enough, a kidney warmer. I've tried logic before like "Aren't kidneys covered in a thick layer of membranes?" or "My mother's from Nebraska, which is much colder than Berlin, and yet she's never heard of kidney warmers and is no worse for the wear", but it simply doesn't work. I've decided, therefore, that the next time a German frets that maybe their kidneys have gotten a bit chilled, I'm going to say: "What about your liver? Isn't your liver also a bit exposed?"after which they will undoubtedly turn quite pale and then immediately rush off to consult their grandmother.
Last year I came to the somewhat reluctant conclusion that I am not a talented seamstress. When I was a child, I loved to do cross-stich with my mother. I found creating little rows of colored stiches to be a relaxing, peacful thing to do. All of my adult life I also fantisied about one day making my own clothes or at least altering pieces myself. Last March I decided to finally learn how to use a sewing machine. I took a course at the Volkshochschule here in Berlin (like an Adult School) and realized quite soon that I was missing some key inherent skills to get me going: I cannot, and never could, fold things neatly and cannot draw a straight line to save my life. The teacher was often exasperated when I accidently sewed something onto the wrong side or bought the wrong kind of cloth for a project (some of this can be blamed on language misunderstandings. Although my German is fluent, there were certain sewing and cloth terms that I would probably not even know in English let alone a foreign language!) Of course, if I was very patient I was still able to get the job done but I found I didn't really enjoy it. Lack of pleasure, combined with the fact that the second-hand sewing machine I bought (literally!)blew up, caused me to draw the conclusion that sewing with a machine just wasn't for me. Being, in some ways, inherently 19th century, it makes sense that I still like to do it by hand. My newest project has been taking something else I love, vintage photos, and stitching parts of them where I would like to emphasise an angle or add color. I'm adding some pictures of two I have done recently. Probably they will find their way into some collage and then will continue on to my shop, Schaufenster. Time will tell....
I don't know what it is about graveyards. True, there are several gorgeous ones near my house and true they are green, quiet and nice to walk in. Still, I think I have a special fondness for them because of growing up in Tucson. Tucson may be many things, but green is not the first one that comes to mind. I remember driving to church with my family (we lived there until I was 10)and always pointing out the window at some point and saying "Look! There's the tree!" As in THE tree, the only tree we ever really saw that was more than a stick (it must have hit an underground water main or something, because I remember it being tall and very lush.) After church we would sometimes go to the graveyard where they had, you guessed it, trees and grass and other green leafy things. When we went, we always had a picnic. Maybe that explains it: to me, graveyards have the cheerful feeling of a family Sunday eating fried chicken and potato salad....Either way, when the sun was actually shining today, it was the first place I thought to go to.
So I'm trying out Art Fire to see what it's all about. It's only been a few days and I only have one piece on there right now, but so far I find the layout easier than Etsy with some nice features like being able to link your shop to various other websits and blogs. Still, my heart lies more with etsy and I find it somehow "hipper" than Art Fire seems to be. Still, I'll give it a try for a while and see how it goes. Here is a link to the shop which should be expanding soon: Contessa
As some of you may know, I have recently opened a jewelery shop on etsy, Rose, red Rose. I have had the shop know for several weeks and so far there have been lookers but no takers. The first person who buys some thing from my shop will receive the earrings below as an extra special "thank you". Good luck, and if you don't make it first, all of my shoppers and browsers are most welcome! :)
Golden Chandelier Earrings These lovely, art nouveau inspired earrings feature brass stampings, findings and ear wires. The brass will also develop a natural patina with age, giving it a vintage look. Length of earrings: (without ear wire) 4.5 cm/1.8 inches
I have taught English here in Berlin to students from all over the world. A few times I even had some students from Siberia. A native Californian, I've always had a winter phobia that stretches back to when "winter" meant two months of some rain and a few days under 40 degrees. In the Bay Area, scarves and hats and gloves are fashion accessories rather than means of survival....Anyway, whenever I had a student from one of these far off, distant northern plains I always asked, with fear in my heart, "What is the Winter like there?" Invariably, they always answered, "Not as bad as it is here in Berlin!!" It's not that the days are very cold here compared to, say, Wisconsin. The problem is you never, ever see the sun. Gray day after gray day, the sky a ceiling of slate that feels like it's closing in on you. And though the temperature is far from as low as it would be in Siberia, there they have a dry cold whereas her it is a wet cold. The kind of cold that seeps into your bones. Nothing anyone likes, as you can see from a wan, drawn faces, but especially killer to someone who is from warmer lands. The problem is, I know it can be different. This winter has been especially hard. With two small children (one 20 months, the other 3 months)it is hard to even leave the house. Two snow suits, two sets of mittens, two sets of boots, one child screeching or, if I'm unlucky, two. Now more than ever my creative pursuits are a lifesaver. Not only have I been active "making stuff" I also try and add extra little touches for my own amusement. Like the two necklaces down below. To the one with the pink flower I added an angel prayer coin to the back, giving hope and watching over the wearer. To the other one I added a ten cents (Euro)coin. For those of you who don't know, the Euro is the shared currency of many countries, but the back of each coin is distinct to the country it is from (the fun of it is that the coins get mixed up after a while. It's always cool to see a different back and try and figure out where it is from.) The ten cent coin in Germany has a picture of the Brandenburg Gate on the back, which is what I have showing on the pendant for a bit of hidden local pride....Both of these necklaces will soon be posted in my etsy shop, Rose, red Rose which you can visit by clicking here
There are also some really beautiful ones by Ansel Adams of Japanese internment camps that I really love.
The best place to find them is at the Library of Congress. You can also order prints from there that are supposedly good quality and don't cost very much. A while ago I took some of the images and added text to them, among other things. I'm sure I'll more images again sometime. The possibilities for ideas and inspiration are endless when you have such great material.
