Like many people with a blog, I took a bit of a break. Not that I haven't been inspired, on the contrary, just not about blogging I guess. I do have one or two posts tucked away, waiting for more time with me, but until then they must rest.
In the meantime I have been putting much of my free creative time into my photography, art and website, http://www.andreaspoint.com/ Come on over and check it out.
Many of the images can be turned into holiday or greeting cards so let me know if you would like to place an order. They received a good response at this past weekend at the first ever Art at the Point here in my town of Point of Rocks.
I am also beginning to book portrait sessions for children and families. Let me know if you would like me to capture a moment in time of your loved ones in a pumpkin field, dressed for Halloween or for your upcoming holiday card.
Cheers!
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Novel Travel
Take me to Cornwall or Florence or India, anyplace but Maryland. One of the primary reasons I read novels is to be swept away to a different place, one so unlike where I live in Maryland. I recently picked up a biography that took place in Brunswick, Maryland the next town over, and put it down after two chapters since it felt too close to home.
I love to travel and explore although I haven’t had as much time to engage in it as I am now a mother of two young boys. As a teenager I attended a wedding in Venezuela traveling with the bride and groom on their honeymoon, took an art trip to Italy with my college professor and peers, visited my husband (then boyfriend) in Guatemala while he served in the Peace Corps, saw Jamaica by way of local buses and other rickety transport, and finally discovered my father’s homeland as he introduced Hungary to me through his own eyes.
Our trips are now relegated to short mini-vacations and a camping trip thrown in here and there. On occasion I even get to slip away without the ties of my family to have a girl’s weekend in New York City, Miami or at a secluded cabin in West Virginia. But I do crave the adventure that foreign travel promises.
So in the meantime, I read. I am currently reading Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert which is as much a travelogue as it is a memoir about a woman seeking to find her authentic self through pleasure and spiritual devotion. What could be better than packing up your life for one year to travel to three very distinct places? It may not be for everyone, but at least we can read about her experiences.
As the boys grow older we have our sights on more adventurous travel, but until then I have my novels and wonderful memories of trips taken to exotic and foreign lands to tide me over.
I love to travel and explore although I haven’t had as much time to engage in it as I am now a mother of two young boys. As a teenager I attended a wedding in Venezuela traveling with the bride and groom on their honeymoon, took an art trip to Italy with my college professor and peers, visited my husband (then boyfriend) in Guatemala while he served in the Peace Corps, saw Jamaica by way of local buses and other rickety transport, and finally discovered my father’s homeland as he introduced Hungary to me through his own eyes.
Our trips are now relegated to short mini-vacations and a camping trip thrown in here and there. On occasion I even get to slip away without the ties of my family to have a girl’s weekend in New York City, Miami or at a secluded cabin in West Virginia. But I do crave the adventure that foreign travel promises.
So in the meantime, I read. I am currently reading Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert which is as much a travelogue as it is a memoir about a woman seeking to find her authentic self through pleasure and spiritual devotion. What could be better than packing up your life for one year to travel to three very distinct places? It may not be for everyone, but at least we can read about her experiences.
As the boys grow older we have our sights on more adventurous travel, but until then I have my novels and wonderful memories of trips taken to exotic and foreign lands to tide me over.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Pie Day
Pie Day takes place in Scott, Louisiana annually on Good Friday at the home of Paul Begnaud. Begnaud’s home is situated in the middle of town in the old red brick bank which he converted into his home. Artwork covers his yellow walls from floor to ceiling and even hangs on the exterior of the garage. Inside Begnaud greets visitors, mostly friends from town or nearby Lafayette as the morning hours increased.
The tradition of Pie Day has been occurring in Begnaud’s family and first began with his Grandmother over 100 years ago. His mother took it over, followed by his sister for 15 years when Mr. Begnaud’s “inherited’ the tradition. The pies are made the day before and this year’s count totaled 104. My husband enjoyed the fig pie, while I tasted the lemon custard and my sons loved the chocolate.
Pies were laid out on tables covered in red and white checkered tablecloths both inside and out. The crowd spilled out into the windy springtime sidewalk due to the tight quarters inside. Music was played by a guitarist and fiddle player who hailed from Kentucky.
Mr. Begnaud insists his guests eat pie of off his mismatched china, with sterling silverware and porcelain tea cups. When one of his guests came into the room holding a Styrofoam cup of coffee he chastised them telling them to use the real tea cups. Women were in the tiny kitchen which used to be the bank vault, quickly scrubbing so once you put you teacup in the kitchen it was then cleaned, dried and filled with coffee for another guests within minutes.
As we left, I asked to take one piece of pie home since I had only sampled one flavor. He insisted that I fill an entire pie tin full of different varieties and then cover it with a paper napkin. My family and I left with a full stomach and a sweet feeling that can only be experienced when you eat pie on a spring day at 10:00am in the morning.
For the photo essay please visit:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LIKc0j2kvCA
The tradition of Pie Day has been occurring in Begnaud’s family and first began with his Grandmother over 100 years ago. His mother took it over, followed by his sister for 15 years when Mr. Begnaud’s “inherited’ the tradition. The pies are made the day before and this year’s count totaled 104. My husband enjoyed the fig pie, while I tasted the lemon custard and my sons loved the chocolate.
Pies were laid out on tables covered in red and white checkered tablecloths both inside and out. The crowd spilled out into the windy springtime sidewalk due to the tight quarters inside. Music was played by a guitarist and fiddle player who hailed from Kentucky.
Mr. Begnaud insists his guests eat pie of off his mismatched china, with sterling silverware and porcelain tea cups. When one of his guests came into the room holding a Styrofoam cup of coffee he chastised them telling them to use the real tea cups. Women were in the tiny kitchen which used to be the bank vault, quickly scrubbing so once you put you teacup in the kitchen it was then cleaned, dried and filled with coffee for another guests within minutes.
As we left, I asked to take one piece of pie home since I had only sampled one flavor. He insisted that I fill an entire pie tin full of different varieties and then cover it with a paper napkin. My family and I left with a full stomach and a sweet feeling that can only be experienced when you eat pie on a spring day at 10:00am in the morning.
For the photo essay please visit:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LIKc0j2kvCA
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)