Unexpected Moments

These brisk fall days are getting darker and colder as the streets of mid-coast Maine dwindle down from the many visitors to those who hold it all together. It's strange to be here through the many phases that Maine culture takes you in a year. This past week has been a whirlwind of emotions for me and I have felt my heart pulled in all different directions. This morning was the grand finale as I sat in church, pen in hand and realized that I wasn't even thinking about anything at all. It is easy to have your mind wander, but my mind just shut off and I couldn't even process what was going on. I feel like if someone had looked me in the eyes, they would have seen two fuzzy tv's instead of eyeballs. I couldn't verbalize what was happening to me and after a short conversation with a friend, I realized that I didn't even have to use words. it truly was written all over my face.

I spent my Sunday afternoon at Rock City coffee and books, sitting on their newly aquired black faux leather coach. I observed the many different kinds of people around me and especially liked watching two couples, probably in their mid to late 40's, enjoy a board game together. They laughed and laughed and it just made me happy to see people enjoy such community in our little town coffee house. I broke in a box of pastels and watercolors and just made all sorts of shapes and designs. Through it, I was thinking about the fact that I never paint or use pastels. Why today? Well, it wasn't about the outcome. It wasn't even about copious amounts of inspiration. It was that I couldn't think of words and I knew that I just needed to take part in a process of creating something. When I had finished one of the pictures, I looked down and went 'eh...' but the truth is, I realized that it calmed my mind. I wasn't overwhelmed and I wasn't overanalyzing my life. I was just sitting and doing... and it was pleasant.

After sitting for a while, I went into my favorite Rockland Gallery. I like it because the building has beautiful architecture and they always play good music. I also like the art.... but the atmosphere really helps it out a lot. I've decided to share different artists with you throughout future posts, so I will start today with someone I hadn't heard of before today.

Joyce Tenneson

I think this portrait of Joyce really shows the essence of her work. She looks strong but at peace. From looking at this photograph of Joyce and observing her pieces, the word 'meek' comes to mind. There is an obvious inner strength but the soft lines and colors show the subjects soft character. Ah, soft character... something so foreign to me and my cut throat American culture... yet so desirable.









I hope you enjoy her! Check out her section of the Dowling Walsh Gallery website. I don't love the flowers... but her portraits are quite compelling. The relationship between her floral pieces and her portraiture kind of remind me of Anne Geddes... no thanks!

Even though boiled milk smells bad...

Today is the first true 'brisk' fall day as I experience my first New England Fall. As my favorite season, fall deserves a little recognition. It is for this reason that I have parked myself in a coffee house, sipping on some Darjeeling tea with milk, just peering out the window. OK fine, I came here to do homework, but honestly- I think I am cherishing this time much more just soaking in the atmosphere.

There is something to be said for coffee houses in the fall and winter. Yes, they are pleasant in the summer but when its cold outside, they seem to be the most comforting place around. Though I think that this current coffee house in the little village of Camden, ME over-steams their milk, thus creating a kind of wrong scent in the air, I really don't think I could enjoy this any more than I am. Secretly, even the scent is comforting because I am able to be silently self-righteous in regards to my superior steaming methods. Wow, who AM i? Pour milk, cap the milk with about half an inch of froth and then pump. Do not heat milk more than two times or else the milk curdles. ....next subject.

So what pulls us over and and over again into the doors of our favorite local coffee house? When researching for my Senior Integration Paper last year, I found this great little article about coffee house culture.

Take a gander:
http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_qn4156/is_20051120/ai_n15849335/?tag=content;col1


To restate what you may or may not choose to read, the article claims that people are drawn to coffee houses because they yearn for community and a sense of home. They go to the same coffee house, order the same thing and sit in the same place. This soon becomes 'their' coffee house, 'their' drink and 'their' table in the corner allowing them to observe both those in the coffee house and those walking by on the street.

When I look back on the many hours I have spent in coffee houses, I am reminded of:
1. working at Frederick Coffee Co. in Maryland. (MOSTLY good memories...)
2. going to Chattz in Chattanooga with Mary Elizabeth and ordering everything bagels with brie and a soy chai latte. I remember us sitting by the window while we sorted through her disney valentines while we decided which character would suit the many friends on her list that she found worthy of valentines.
3. I remember going to Rembrandts in Chattanooga with Carolann and our 6th grade girls small group one sunday morning. We all ordered hot chocolate and shared our lives together.
4. I remember the countless visits to Cafe Nola in Maryland with Emmy Baltic or Natalie Beall. Emmy and I used to go there to study when we were both taking classes at FCC. As for Natalie, I remember enjoying the bar and ordering my first legal cucumber mohito in celebration of my 21st birthday. We also seem to visit Nola every single time I am in Frederick and that alone, is valuable to me as a staple activity in our relationship.
5. I remember our family summer visits to Maine and spending a lot of time at Second Read (now called Rock City Coffee and Books) in Rockland. I would go with my Dad as he would need to do his mid-vacation email check and graze the used books. I would explore the books and order my favorite treat, the oatmeal raisin cookie. I am regularly reminded of my Dad when I think on the topic of coffee houses. He raised me and my siblings to 'always suport the underdog' and I continue that mentality in mainly two areas of my life: gas stations and coffee houses. Always support local. Yes, its vogue NOW... but only because of my Dad. The Ellis family has a way of setting trends.
6. And now, as I live in Maine, I value my loyalty to Zoot Coffee. I visited it the first weekend that I moved to Maine and every time I visit, I think of all the growing pains I have experienced, and for the most part, overcome, since I moved here about five and a half months ago.

Well, I think thats all for now.