February Fireworks

Navy Pier Fireworks (via ChicTraveler)

I moseyed downtown today after work to attend a gallery opening in the hopes of meeting Michael Thompson, whose art work Kosher I've featured on my blog. Attending gallery openings is not something I usually do, so I had to give myself a bit of a shove. Alas, Michael wasn't there, at least not when I was. I did ask a stranger who looked like him, and who said he knew him, and who confirmed that he wasn't there. So I took in some of the quirky work on display, and then I made my way back to the bus stop.

By now it had gotten dark - on my way to the gallery I had the great skyline view below when I walked across the bridge over the commuter train tracks. As I waited for the bus, I kept hearing popping noises above the traffic on Columbus Drive, and once I let my eyes follow that noise, what did I see? Fireworks exploding off in the distance over Navy Pier. Fireworks in February? What a nice surprise!

I tried to capture them with my Smartphone camera, but unfortunately there was too much light interference from headlights and streetlamps, and the traffic was too heavy for me to cross the drive to a darker area. So I just stood there and enjoyed the magenta and green and blue and white chrysanthemums of light blinking and popping and sparkling in the night sky. Upon returning home, a quick search informed me that today's firework display was in honor Chicago’s legendary Cubs announcer Harry Caray.

Goes to show that you never know what you might see once you venture out! Maybe not what or whom you planned to see, but something else entirely, and perhaps even more beautiful.

Chicago's Skyline from the South at 11th Street Bridge over Metra Tracks

Some End-of-the-Month Submission Opportunities

I haven't written much about submitting work to literary magazines lately, mainly because I've been slacking off in that department. But yesterday I got back in submissions mode and came across a few submission opportunities that are closing soon, so I thought I'd share:

Arts & Letters, regular reading period ended 1/31, but contest deadline is 3/18

Florida Review, 2013 Editor's Awards deadline is 3/17

Gulf Coast, regular reading period ends 3/1, contest ends 3/15

Ninth Letter, reading period closes 2/28, submit online

Rosebud's X.J. Kennedy Award for Nonfiction, postmark deadline is 3/1, and you have to submit snail mail, so get to it!

AWP Award Series, this is perfect if you have a book-length manuscript sitting around, ends 2/28.

Grönemeyer in Chicago

Herbert Grönemeyer Concert at Chicago Theatre, February 23, 2013

Lieber Herbert Grönemeyer,   [English translation below]

Herrlich, dass Sie da waren! Dass wir Sie in Chicago hautnah erlebt haben, für $50 im leider halbleeren Chicago Theatre wird uns so mancher, der ein Riesenkonzert in einem deutschen Stadium mitgemacht hat, neiden. Und Sie ziehen, wie erwartet, eine fetzige Show ab, haben, wie meine 17jährige Tochter meinte, sichtlich Spass an Ihrer Musik und am Auftreten.

Das mit Ihren Texten auf englisch hätte auch gut gehen können, denn Ihre Songs sind einfach gut, egal in welcher Sprache. Da war nur für ein Konzert ein Problem: Wir konnten nicht mitsingen, auch wenn wir, allesamt wohl deutsche Expats und Au Pairs, gewollt hätten, denn Ihre englisch-sprachige CD ist noch nicht mal auf dem Markt. Und warum geht man auf ein Rock-Konzert? Damit man mitgröhlen kann! Da waren wir also gegen Halbzeit sichtlich frustriert. Wir gönnten Ihnen sogar die Freude, endlich mal 'nen Joe Cocker oder Bruce Springsteen Song zum Besten zu geben, auch wenn wir dafür nicht auf ein Grönemeyer Konzert gehen. Glücklicherweise haben Sie ja dann Ihr Publikum erhört, nachdem wir so schön "Zugabe" gebrüllt haben, und "Bochum" auf deutsch gebracht. Das haette ich auf englisch auch nicht verkraftet, denn das geht mir zu sehr unter die Haut.

Nun denn, die Postkarte, die uns am Ausgang gegeben wurde, verspricht, dass Sie im Herbst wiederkommen. Hoffen wir mal, dass wir bis dann Herbert Grönemeyer, den besten deutschen Rock Poeten, auf englisch auch so gut finden, dass wir mitsingen können. Ich wünsche Ihnen jedenfalls für diesen etwas unbequemen Spagat zwischen den Kulturen gutes Gelingen!

Herzlichst,

Ihre Annette Gendler, ein alter Fan, ehemalig aus München

Dear Herbert Grönemeyer,

How wonderful that you were here! Many a German fan, who's experienced a concert in a giant stadium, would be jealous that we were able to see you for $50, close up in the - sadly - half-empty Chicago Theatre. And, as expected, you gave a spirited show, and you obviously enjoy your own music and performing, as my 17-year-old daughter noted.

We could have dealt with the issue of your songs being in English, because they are great songs, no matter in what language. But there was one problem: We couldn't sing along, even if we (pretty much all German expats and au pairs) had wanted to, because your English CD hasn't been released yet. And why do people go to a rock concert? To sing along! So halfway through we were seemingly frustrated. We went along with you doing a Joe Cocker and a Bruce Springsteen song, simply because you clearly enjoyed being able to do that, even though that's not why we attended a Grönemeyer concert. Fortunately you finally gave in to your audience, after we stomped and screamed "Zugabe" (encore), and performed "Bochum" in German, which frankly I would not have been able to take in English. It simply cuts too deep.

Well then, the postcard we were handed upon exiting promises that you will be back on tour in the fall. By then we will hopefully have found that the greatest German rock poet is also great in English, and will be able to sing along. In any case, I wish you good success with this perhaps somewhat uncomfortable balancing act between two cultures.

Sincerely,

Annette Gendler, a longtime fan, formerly from Munich

Create: Knitting Glittery Scarves

Create is my word for 2013. The beauty of it is that many things fall under "creating," such as knitting. Over the last six weeks (Is the new year already 6 weeks old?), I've finished the green scarf (just in time to wear it to the theatre with my mother-in-law's elegant Persian lamb coat) as well as the purple scarf, and I started the magenta one.

The purple one is for my daughter. I actually unraveled a yarn I bought many years ago and with which I had intended to make a vest for her. But, as often happens, I abandoned that project halfway through; in the meantime she's grown up and I didn't have enough yarn for a vest that would fit her now. While I was a master knitter in my late teens and early twenties (I used to knit in boring classes to stay awake, and a bunch of us girls would compete in how complicated a pattern we could knit), I now prefer simple projects I can knit while sitting by the fire, watching a movie, or supervising my son's homework. I also like to use big needles as I want to be done fast.

Winter scarves are ideal. The ruffles on these are the only thing that requires some attention. After they're done, it's easy sailing. And the glittery yarn (Lana Lux, available at Loopy Yarns) makes these scarves look glamorous despite the plain ribbing pattern (alternating two knit, two purl stitches - BTW, I had to look this up as I still can't knit in English).

To me there is something utterly satisfying in the click of the needles and the act of creating something tangible, wearable, durable, and on top of it warm and kind of chic. Especially for someone like me, who's otherwise engaged in the rather intangible act of writing, making something "real" is a great antidote. So I'm happily clicking away and hope to finish that magenta scarf before the weather turns warm.

Are there any tangible creative projects you're involved in?

Winter Beach

Assembling a photo essay from one of my outings is one of my happiest pursuits, and so over this long weekend (In the U.S. it's Presidents Day today, which means the kids are home from school.), I figured I'd showcase my photos from a recent walk at Rogers Park Beach on the far north side of Chicago. It was still winter then, meaning snow and ice had transformed the lakefront into a cold and sparkly beauty.

Walking out to the lighthouse is always a thrill, especially when you're about to see what wonders the ice has wrought.

Seagulls in formation

 

 

 

Snow floes

 

 

 

The skyline of the Loyola University campus

 

 

 

Luckily, the footpath gets plowed; the stone bench with all its colorful paintings doesn't. 

 

 

 

Footsteps in the snow

 

 

 

It's too cold for this, Mam'!

 

 

 

Bundled up, watching birds. 

 



 

Good-bye winter beach, your magic, framed by this snaky sculpture, is gone by now.

Chocolate Pudding

Isn't chocolate pudding the perfect little comfort food? Easy and quick to make, and good in any season?

Yesterday I made some in preparation for tonight's Shabbat dinner. We don't serve desserts often, opting for fruit instead, but my husband recently mentioned that he felt we should make more of an effort to make Shabbat dinners special. Since last night was a rare Thursday evening when I wasn't out teaching, I figured I'd make my German grandmother's chocolate pudding.

Not only is it a simple recipe and rather quick to make, but because it was a special treat of my childhood, it will make any meal special for me. And everybody in my family loves chocolate pudding! Master cook and baker that my grandmother was, she insisted on a particular brand of cocoa (van Houten from the Netherlands) for any chocolate-flavored dish. One of her tin cans of van Houten cocoa holds court on a high display shelf in my kitchen. I've been using Hershey's cocoa and that has worked well enough.

Chocolate Pudding

1 liter milk (a bit more than 4 cups)
6 tbsp. starch (potato or corn starch work well)
4 tbsp. cocoa
a handful of semi-sweet chocolate chips (this is my addition - there are no chocolate chips in Germany - but they intensify the chocolate taste)
sliced almonds for decoration
sugar to taste

Whisk starch and cocoa together in a medium-size pot. Put on medium heat. Pour in the milk while stirring continuously with a whisk. The only hard part of this recipe is that you do have to continue stirring this mixture until you feel it thickening. This takes a few minutes, and I usually have a magazine at the ready and stir while I read. (If you don't stir it all the time, you risk the milk burning or the starch clumping; both will ruin the pudding.)

When the mixture thickens, toss in a handful of chocolate chips and take it off the heat. Continue to stir until the chocolate chips have melted. Taste to see if it's chocolaty and sweet enough for you. Add more chocolate chips if needed (too many, however, will make the pudding too liquid). I usually add no more than a teaspoon of sugar. For a jazzier version you can add a drop or two of mint syrup. However, be careful. I once added too much (I've got some potent mint essence from one of the mint farmers in Indiana as our property there is in mint farming land), and the pudding tasted like spearmint chewing gum.

Pour pudding into small bowls and decorate with a few slivered almonds once you see a skin form. Refrigerate a few hours until firm. (My grandmother actually did not refrigerate it, and it still got solid.)

This recipe serves four but can be easily adjusted if you figure 1/4 liter (250 ml - roughly one cup) of milk per person.

Enjoy!

That Satisfying Plop of the Mail Box

Today I mailed off two photos to the Starved Rock Photo Contest. Sounds straightforward, but it was quite a production.

First, photos could not be submitted electronically. Rather, you had to submit printed copies in at least size 5x7". That meant I had to print them at Walgreens since I don't have that size photo paper at home. Plus I figured "professional" printing might be nicer. The benefit of that undertaking was that I logged onto my Walgreens photo account, something I apparently hadn't done in years, only to find that there lived an online album with my photos from our trip to Prague in 2007 that I thought I had lost during a switch in laptops. These pictures meant a lot to me, especially because they are a record of visiting my grandparents' former house with my own family (that's its own story).

One of my recovered photos - Hradcany (Prague castle) at night

Second, an entry form had to be filled out and attached to the back of each photo. Ok, not so hard, but still, you do have to print out the entry form, cut it out, and find a glue stick to attach it.

Third, both photos had to be on a CD. That means you need to have a CD handy (I did thanks to my son), and your CD drive has to work (it does, again thanks to my son who fixed it recently). You also need a CD sleeve, which I didn't have, but I did buy a photo mailer (again at Walgreens) yesterday, so I figured that was good enough.

Fourth, the little envelope had to be mailed, which meant weighing it at home (I do whatever I can to avoid the post office), affixing the right postage (thankfully my stamp collection is well stocked), and wandering over to the mail box before it gets (supposedly) emptied at 10:00 a.m. (because of course I am mailing this last minute).

When I heard that plop of the mailbox, I felt a great sense of satisfaction. Something tangible had been accomplished, and something intangible, too, namely the recovery of photos long lost. So thank you to this little contest that asked a lot but gave back a lot in return. Goes to show, perhaps, that you have to work to accomplish something...

A Yearbook

The beginnings of my 2013 yearbook - with photos from a New York
Knicks game and various playbills

In my efforts to reclaim my desk and get rid of some piles, I just started my 2013 yearbook. I began this practice of keeping a family yearbook back in 2009. It's a photo album, labeled for the year, in which I put memorabilia and photos of all those special little events of our lives that don't warrant their own album. Not that I am great at creating those albums either, but I do have neatly labeled boxes housing photos, tickets and postcards from various trips that hopefully one day will be in a photo album. Where, however, to put that playbill from a Broadway show (provided you're like me and reluctant to toss those kinds of souvenirs)?

A page from my 2009 yearbook

These yearbooks have proven themselves as a great way to verify our lives. When was it exactly that we went to Indiana Beach the first time? Was it 2009 or 2010? I have my yearbook to consult. Plus there I can showcase those sometimes cheesy event photos that show me with my mouth wide open going down a water slide.

I've been using the same Chelsea photo album in mint and chocolate from Exposures, along with a matching personalized label for the year. The only difference is that this year I'm making an effort to start the book at the beginning of the year. In prior years, the yearbook pile would grow on my desk until I would get around to assembling all those things in there, usually towards the end of the year. So this year the idea is to keep this yearbook at the ready, on the left arm of my desk, so that playbills, ticket stubs, fun photos etc. don't clutter my desk but can slide right into their own home.

A Blog Thank You

Article in the French Jewish magazine Tenou'a featuring the same art
work by Michael Thompson I featured last May.

Coming on the heels of my damp review of hosting guest bloggers on Monday, I received a surprise email from Chicago artist Michael Thompson, whose art work "Kosher" I had featured back in May. He sent me this copy of an article from the French magazine Tenou'a featuring the very piece I had featured. He was almost certain that my blog post had led to its discovery and thanked me again for my post. He also invited me to the gallery opening of the show "Rube Goldberg's Ghost: Confounding Design and Laborious Objects" at Columbia College that will include his work, and I plan to attend and meet him in person. I am thrilled that one little blog post of mine could have such wonderful after-effects.

Goes to show that my friend Barbara was right when she commented on Monday that whatever you put out there on your blog will come back, it just might not be from the direction you expect. I should have remembered that because that's another life lesson I thought I had learned many years ago (the hard way, of course): When you do something for someone else, chances are it might not be that person who does something for you, but someone else entirely. Clearly, I had to be reminded. Thank you, Michael Thompson!

Reflections on Two Years of Blogging

Shaker Village Bonnet - as featured on shuttersisters

I've been blogging for two years now, and since I reflected on my first year of blogging a year ago, it's time to think about what this second year of blogging has brought. Thankfully, it has brought more readers, more friendships, and more insights:

Blogging reflects me back to myself. Of course this blog is an edited version of me, and yet I find that because I have this outlet I can share something that I otherwise would not have recognized as a story. My "What's Left of a Friendship" post, for instance, was prompted by one crystal that beckoned me to tell its story once I had hung it up again and was looking at it from my desk. That post has gotten a lot of hits. Blogging continues to be a journey in figuring out who I am as a blogger. And if I knew that, I could sit back and relax!

Blogging has made me more relaxed as a writer. Not that I don't doubt my work anymore, or don't get anxious about acceptance. But this blog gives me an outlet for all those little insights that wouldn't make a personal essay. I can do what I want! I don't have to hope for an editor's acceptance letter just to get read. While blogging is its own medium and doesn't necessarily make it easier to write an essay or a book, the constant practice of blogging keeps my writing muscles in shape. It is simply true that the more you do it, the easier it gets.

Blogging led me to discover myself as a photographer. I got my first DSLR camera last summer; I took a photography class and have been reading a lot of photography books. It's become an interest that has given me lots of joy. One of my happiest pursuits now is to sit with my laptop and get lost in looking at my photos after a shoot. I had my work featured on shuttersisters. This blog has become a great outlet to showcase my photos and to develop visual stories.

Stone Fence and Barn at Shaker Village, Kentucky,
as featured on shuttersisters

Some of my blogging realizations this year have a twinge of bittersweetness to them, perhaps because the second year of blogging meant the honeymoon was over and real life set in:

Blogging friends come and go. This shouldn't make me sad, but it does. Why should blogging friendships be any different from in-person friendships: Some last, others don't. Some are steady, others fade. Readers who buoyed me on a year ago have vanished, and I miss them! Thankfully, other faithful readers like William Kendall have miraculously appeared. How do you manage to comment on nearly all my posts, William? I don't know how you do it, but I thoroughly appreciate your generosity. Thank you!

Keeping a steady pace is a good thing, but it's also a challenge. I managed to do so, but there are times when putting up a post is a drag. I deal with it by always having a few draft posts waiting for when I might feel uninspired. It also helps that I've settled into a blogging routine that works for me, namely posting 2-3 times a week, usually on Mondays and Thursdays. It seems my readers are accustomed to that routine, too, because when I miss it, such as last week when I was waylaid by a trip to New York, I get emails asking me if I'm OK. So thanks, dear readers, for looking out for me!

Hosting guest bloggers is not what it's cracked up to be, at least not in the sense of resulting in guest blogging opportunities for me or significantly growing my audience. Over these two years, I've hosted 21 guest bloggers on my blog, and have only been invited once to guest blog in return. I didn't expect to be invited in return every time, and some of my guest bloggers don't even have their own blogs, but I did expect a little tit-for-tat. Clearly that does not work and my expectation was wrong. And as so often in life, I have found that it's my expectations I have to watch. Hosting guest bloggers also means, in many cases, that, as the "editor," I have to hound the writer, something I don't particularly enjoy. Some guest posts were easy and fun, others took months of follow up, some never materialized. And yet I will continue to invite guest bloggers because I think it's valuable to offer my readers a variety of voices and insights.

So this is where I'm at after two years of blogging. I am looking forward to this continuing journey of discovery, and I am thankful to all you readers who are in for the ride and who let me know that I'm not alone in it.