Coffee and Writing

I stumbled upon this blog by designers, thinkers, and writers Julia and Ellen Lupton. Ellen literally wrote the book on typography. Or at least one that is much loved by those introducing ideas of type to students.

One particular post by Julia talks about a book by her colleague Ron Carlson, "Ron Carlson Writes a Story." The book is about the art and craft of writing and Lupton highlights Carlson's description of coffee as a source of procrastination and distraction. Sub in a quick email, folding laundry, anything for coffee and you've got an apt description of how it feels to derail yourself with hope that, "Once I've tended to that one thing, then I will be productive."

Lupton writes:

A lot of the book isn’t about fiction writing at all. It’s about time management. In a sharp little chapter called “Coffee,” Carlson writes, “No one among us suffers the radical appreciation for coffee that I do. It calls to me, but I have learned not to listen.” Coffee takes you out of your seat; it breaks concentration; it persuades you that “you might be smarter in the next room.” And every coffee machine has a vacuum cleaner as its neighbor. Or an email account. Or a Face Book page.

 Or a blog post. Now back to work.

Sunchokes

Sunchokes (Helianthus tuberosus) are perennial sunflowers native to North America. You may have heard of them as Jerusalem Artichokes. The plants grow 8 - 10 feet tall, flower in late summer, and have edible root nodules with a consistency of watercress and the culinary versatility of potatoes.

I got some plants several years ago from a friend who warned me that they take over gardens. I planted them and kept a close eye on them only letting 5 or 6 grow each year. That was mistake.

This tuber bearing rhizome is pervasive, tenacious, and pernicious. The crisp texture of the tubers means they are easily broken in harvest. Small uncollected pieces will root for the following season. I found the plump tubers tucked inside the roots of other perennials plants and throughout the soil. If I am here next spring I will try to pinch out every single plant that comes up. Even then the tubers may have enough stored inulin to see them through til the next year.

This is how we learn. We try things, observe the results, and take notes for the next time. I'd plant Sunchokes again if I needed a tall screen in a sunny place and did not plan to grow anything else there. Ever again. That said, they're tasty and it's neat to eat something from our front yard. As with many things we grow ourselves, the result is punier than what we can buy in a store. These tubers look paler and more elongated than most available commercially. I think that may be a function of being a second season crop. Will see how they taste.

I will scrub them, chop them, toss them in oil and seasonings, and roast them. Mahasti Vafaie (of the Tomato Head) made them into a tasty soup for the first Raise the Roots dinner and I'd like to try something like that with the roasted pieces. I made this recipe for Thanksgiving last year. Good stuff. Here's to being grateful for what comes up. 

Will Travel

Genius Loci is up at the Hardin Valley Campus of Pellissippi State Community College for another week+. I've loved getting to meet and talk to the students and faculty there. Next Monday, October 29th from 3-5 pm, I'll return for an artist talk (and to distribute the fig cuttings from the show).

On the 29th I'll also take final stock of the seed ball trade that's been going on in the gallery. The show opened with hundreds of seed balls (made with clay powder, commercial compost, and wildflower seeds) set out in a grid. A sign in the gallery invited visitors to trade something for the seed balls. This is the first time I've presented seed balls in this way and I'm pleased with the results and eager to catalog the items traded.

I suspect the objects left behind reveal a sort of community portrait. I look forward to mounting this installation in another location and community to test that theory.

Family Loci

My family helped me load, transport, and install my show this weekend. Many thanks to them and to my assistant Amy Hand.

Leap Again

Herida Abierta

This show, Viviendo Entre la Herida Abierta, by Leticia Contreras is up at the Birdhouse now and I dig it. It is the best show I've seen there in several months. Lucky you (if you live in Knoxville), you can catch the closing reception this coming Saturday, the 29th.

Genius loci

I have an upcoming show at the Bagwell Center for Media & Art at Pellissippi State Community College. Here is a flyer for you and yours to see, share, and enjoy.