The Day of a Thirsty Handbag

Today, the screw top of the bottled water came loose in my handbag and drowned the new camera.  Had to make a brief stop on freeway KS10 to pour the water out of the handbag.  Giggles and plenty of swearing aside, it was RIP for the camera.  The camera on the mobile handset survived the minor flood, but it attained an unexpected dreamy quality.

Lawrence was the destination today.  This is a college town some 45 miles west of Overland Park, dominated by the University of Kansas.  The high street, Massachusetts Street, has a variety of individual shops catering to the student population: new age, new age, and new age.  Thank goodness there were few signs of the ubiquitous chain stores, so prevalent in Overland Park and Leawood.  There was even a shop selling things British.

Lunch was at Milton's Cafe, bustling with young and old having their Sunday lunch.  Takeaway today is this tag line from Mark Twain, quoted on the business card of a fellow diner, a print graphic designer who has chosen to settle in the liberal heartland of a conservative Kansas -

"Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness."

Check out her website at http://www.debstavin.com/index.html to see some vibrant images taken during her trip to India.

Then it is on to the Spencer Museum of Art at Kansas University.  A poster exhibition on peace, social justice and environment was on and there were some thought provoking and conscience pricking images, including a bath tub filled with red water entitled Israel and Palestine.  This one is striking and shocking with equal measure -

A traditionalist at heart, it was an oil painting by Sandford Robinson Gifford that made my heart hit the high C, and more .... 

To end on a different note, the sculpture below is entitled "Collection".  I invite you to tell me what you see....

On Being

I have always been fascinated by philosophy, but seldom have the staying power to read an entire book. When coming face to face with Martin Heidegger's fundamental treatise "Being and Time" at the Barnes and Noble bookshop, I asked again the question "What does being mean?"  For Heidegger, the truth of being, its openness, is not our own production.  We find ourselves thrown in a historically conditioned environment in which the decision concerning the prevailing interpretation of the being of being is already made for us.  Yet, by asking the question of being, we can at least attempt to free ourselves from our historical conditioning. 

Next to the solitary bay of philosophy books were two rows of bookshelves on religion, mostly about Christianity.  Almost 20% of the floor space was given over to religion as a genre.  But curiously, a recent survey shows that the number of people in the USA who say they are unaffiliated with any particular faith today (16%) is more than double the number who say they were not affiliated with any particular religion as children. Among the younger generation, those aged 18-29, one in four say they are not currently affiliated with any particular religion.  Perhaps it is deliberate that the floor space allocated to each genre is not directly correlated to the reading habits of the consumers.

Weston was the next stop on the itinerary.  This is a charming small town, situated about 30 minutes north of Kansas, in Missouri.  The trip took us along I-435, MO10 and then JJ, deep into the country side.  The landscape was flat as a pancake, with fields stretching well into the horizon.  Weston's main thoroughfare, Main Street, is lined with antique shops and the odd eaterie.  Chief among its attractions is the wine tasting offered by two wineries, which I did not partake due to lack of time and my travelling companion being a teetotaller.

The Weston Cafe, festooned with brightly lit festive lights, offered good honest home made food.  The fries (not chips please, chips are crisps) were fab.  So was the roast pork bun; the pork was melt in the mouth.  The young girl who served us proudly explained that it is a family business and that the cafe will one day be her inheritance. 

In the warrens of an antique shop that sells all manners of trinkets, bric-a-brac.  They are Weston's answers to the flea market or car boot sales.

Some humour to attract attention.  The USP really.

The Poles are everywhere, if ever proof is needed.

New Moon, new doom

This vampire romance hit new lows for me.  It featured vampires who held court at Volterra, shirtless werewolves with sculpted six packs, and a morose teenage girl who missed her vampire boyfriend so much that she wore a single facial expression throughout that screamed of painful constipation.  The film was pitiful, plotless and pointless.  $12 and two hours of my life wasted.

Kemper Museum of Contemporary Art

Kansas is surprisingly artsy.  Downtown Kansas plays host to two art museums - the Nelson Atkins Museum of Art and the Kemper Museun of Contemporary Art, both within walking distance of each other. 

A gigantic bronze spider by Louise Bourgeois bestrides the entrance at the Kemper Museum. A creepy statement, if ever there is one.  There was a much smaller one creeping up the wall by the main entrance, much to the fascination of a young boy who was pointing his digital camera at this creature.

Inside, the gallery's spacious central atrium was bathed in natrual daylight streaming through the skylights.  The eyes were drawn to the highly polished marble floor and the reflections of the pictures on the floor. 

My favourite paintings were the watercolours by Andrew Wyeth.  Three generations of the Wyeths were being exhibited, some paintings showing exquisite brushstrokes, the kind of modern painting that I can understand.

By far the most inspirational was a huge canvass of blue sky and green fields .  It transported me to a space that symbolised hope, inspiration, and the indominatable human spirit.

Messages from home

Occasionally I get pictures sent from home, showing projects in progress.  Some are revenue generating and some are sentiments generating.  They are reminders of a life once shared in person and now, separated by time and space, mometarily shared on the phone or over Skype.  Don't be seduced by the apparent romance of business travels.  There may be a life style but often there is no life.

Thanksgiving Day

It's Thanksgiving today, a preminent annual event in the American calendar.  The Pilgrims who came over on the Mayflower in the 17th century nearly starved, and thanks to the Indians, learned to grow corn and pumpkin and lived to thank God over a three-day feast.

A colleague had invited me to join her family for Thanksgiving lunch.  She lives out at Olathe, surrounded by the country side, but just less than 30 minutes on the I-435 into Overland Park.  It was a pleasant change to get out of plaza land, away from the malls, the eateries, and the vast array of retail outlets that spring up like weeds everywhere in a wet summer.

The hospitality was very warm and welcoming.  It was a great experience to share one of the most important meals of the year with an American family.  The fayre consisted of: turkey, ham, baked sweet potatoes, baked mushrooms, broccoli and rice topped with cheese, and stuffing made from baked vegetables.  Desert was apple pie, cherry pie and ice cream.  Drink was iced tea.  The meal was preceded by the host saying grace.  Although an atheist, I nevertheless respected the practice.

Whilst Oakland Raiders played Dallas Cowboys, I played chutes and ladders, Barbie, and some kiddies' computer games with little Sarah.  Having only owned a cabbage patch doll once, coming face to face with 5 Barbies, a collection of ballgowns, mini skirts, bootleg jeans, killer heels, kitten heels, boots, hairbrushes, etc. was a revealing moment of backward development.  Interestingly, there was no Ken.

Dinner tonight was at Bristol, an upscale restaurant in Leawood that serves modern American food.  It was buffet night, and the oysters were fresh and yummy-licious.  The crab cakes on the regular menu are to die for....

Thanksgiving is homecoming time.  I miss home and I miss my loved one.

A new dawn, a new day

I count myself lucky to wake up most days to see dawn breaking over the horizon.  At 06:30, the streets are usually empty. In the distance are the silohuettes of the Town Centre Plaza, their outlines sketched out in dazzling Christmas lights. 

Breakfast is a simple affair: orange juice, a tub of Special K, a piece of fruit, and a bagel.  The Special K's were specially bought in for me; it seems that no one else is counting the sugar content nor the calories in the cereals.

Tonight, I went to Whole Foods supermarket to look for a present for the host who has invited me to join her family for Thanksgiving lunch.  The food looks fantastic, but the organized organic fruits are pricey.  Navel oranges are on offer at $1 a piece.  The service is first class though; the shop assistants are so friendly and courteous.  Here's their politically correct paper carrier bag.

The ice rink opposite the hotel was packed with youngsters having fun.  A young girl, dressed up in glitzy ice skating gear, gave a polished performance, with her proud and adoring mother looking on.

The kindness of strangers

I met the Arrowhead Man at the Chiefs' game on Sunday.  To me, he represents the archetypal friendly, jovial American, always ready to share a joke, and willing to share his food.  He had prepared his special smoked ham in special spices overnight and drove all the way from Alabama to Kansas to watch the Chiefs win.  It had been a dry time for the Chiefs, he confided, but the win over the reigning champion Pittsburgh Steelers he believed will revitalise their fortune.  He holds a season ticket which entitles him to 8 home games and a number of pre games.  He parks his truck at the same spot each time, and he has built around him what amounts to an extended family.  Being a city dweller where looking at someone in an elevator is a faux pas, this kind of warm and friendly welcome is a very pleasant experience indeed.

Oasis

Somewhere at work is an oasis of calm.  Such an unexpected find.  It's an ideal hideaway, to find an odd moment to reflect, to enjoy the peace and quiet, and to gather one's thoughts.

Tonight at the Town Centre Plaza, the white lights have come on, a reminder that the year is drawing to a close. It's been quite an eventful year, with a number of firsts - first time working in the USA, first time living away from home big chunks of the time, first time drving on the right hand side of the road, and first time realising that there is no place like home.

Dawn breaks

KC Chiefs 27 Pittsburgh Steelers 24

This photo says it all - Chiefs Win! 

The Stadium Car Park, on a grand scale.  This is just a fraction of the car population on the day.

Supporters from both sides leaving the Stadium at the end of game, orderly, patiently, and courteously. 

No Cash Value

Ventured to the Trolleys at 135th Street for some classic rock, staged by a local band called No Cash Value.  The band has a loyal fan base, not suprising, as the music it plays is good, even for a classical music devotee like me.  Check them out at http://www.nocashvalueband.com/

Absolutely Football-bulous Day

What an amazing day!  The people, the place, the atmosphere, the game - it was overwhelming, it was energizing, and it was an eruption of humanity that really touched my heart.  I was at the Arrowhead Stadium, Kansas today, to witness KC Chiefs playing Pittsburgh Steelers.  The Reds won - 27 to 24, beating last year's Super Bowl winner Pittsburgh Steelers at overtime. It was a stunning win, so electrifying that the KC Chiefs fans were high fiving even a "football virgin" like me.  Thank you John, for taking me to this truly truly memorable event. 

Getting to Stadium Drive, I encountered the first ever traffic jam at Kansas.  Here it is.

Outside the stadium and before the game started, a sea of fans and supporters had already started feasting and partying at what is known as tailgating.  There were specially adapted vehicles, most of them bearing the KC Chiefs colours of red and gold.  The creativity and the sense of fun is there for all to see.

Johnson County Community College

The sun had come out today, smiling.  It was warm too. 

The JCCC is a campus located at Overland Park, with prominent brick buildings mostly interconnected.  Dotted within the campus are pieces of contemporary sculptures, some of them rather puzzling.  Behind the unimginative straight lines of brick buildings though, there were curves and waves that break the monotomy of an idealized campus.

There was a cookery competition on and some delightful plate decorations (i.e. food).  It was pleasing to see young ones creating platefuls of art that looked appeitising.  No sampling of food though.

Contemporary Art at Nerman

Went to the Nerman Museum of Contemporary Art today at the Johnson County Community Centre, Overland Park.  It was a challenge finding it, as the entrance was hidden behind a brick building.  On entry, the museum is a bright airy construction on two floors, with a spaciousness that is both uplifting and liberating.  The white walls, the oak gallery floors, and the grey limestone create a palette of contemporary elegance.

Here are my favourite exhibits.