Monday, January 26, 2009

Images of Beacon from March, 2005



Since that last post was so long, I figure I'll keep this one short and sweet, with just three pictures of Beacon in the winter as I saw it on that first trip in March of '05.

These are a series of structures on Tioranda Avenue, just west of the train tracks which are just west of Fishkill Creek. The industrial silos right alongside this gorgeous sycamore tree...


...and all that right alongside this sweet little house. That's Beacon for you. That house, incidentally, used to be a cutesy antique shop that we never went in but is now one of our favorite places in Beacon, The Hermitage, an amazing book store and art space. If you visit Beacon (and if you live here), you must visit the Hermitage and buy lots of books and art! 


Sunday, January 25, 2009

The Why of It


What we left: Our garden in Santa Fe

What we gained: Our garden in Beacon

It's been a busy few weeks. Not that people are waiting with bated breath for my next posting, but still. I will today, finally, try to answer the "Why did you move from Santa Fe to Beacon?" question. 

About six months before we decided to leave Santa Fe, another friend of ours moved to North Carolina, quite suddenly. He got a lot of "why?'s" and, being a well-prepared, organized type, had his response at the ready for when he announced his planned departure: "Because it's wet, it's green, and it's where I grew up." Huh. Yeah, can't really argue with that. He said it with such conviction and finality that there wasn't much room for discussion or dissuasion. We all just nodded, bemusedly agreeing. 

So when we decided to move, remembering this clever ploy, I suggested that we, too, should have a sound-bite response that summed it all up. We never did. The nearest we've come is "to be close to NYC but not in NYC," and "to be closer to family," both of which are certainly true, but there's much more to it than that. But to put it into some neat, tidy explanation? Nope. Maybe that's just the way we both are. 

So here are some more of the reasons, as I see it:

1. Adventure: I think that J and I are both adventure-seekers. We like a challenge, or at least the idea of a challenge. This house turned out to be far more of a challenge than we intended, but that's what happens sometimes. That's another chapter. 

2. Career: J, as an artist, felt he had reached a sort of "glass ceiling" in Santa Fe, which has a great art community but can get to feeling pretty limited, career-wise. It's hard - not impossible, but hard - to be taken seriously as a contemporary artist if you're based in Santa Fe. Sure, SF and surrounds has some very famous artists (Bruce Nauman, Susan Rotherberg, Richard Tuttle, Fred Hammersly, Agnes Martin before she died) but they didn't make a name for themselves from NM, they moved there after they were famous, when they could live wherever and still carry on being famous. So there was that feeling for J of wanting to be closer to, or even in, a real art center. And for most artists, that's New York. Even with all the talk of L.A. being the next art center, NY not being "where it's at" anymore, blah blah blah, ask almost any artist where s/he would go to really take their career to the next level if money/family/etc. were no object, and most will say "New York City." That's just the way it is, or at least was back in 2005, or at least that's how we saw it.

And for me, too, though I was doing okay as a self-employed landscape designer and had a good thing going as a part-time lecturer at the University of New Mexico that might have blossomed into something else had I stuck it out (in which case we would have had to move to Albuquerque because driving 120 miles a day five days a week was not how I wanted to live my life), I felt like in another three years or so, if not before, I would be "done" with New Mexico. That was a long sentence. I was channeling Thomas Mann. My epiphany came one day when I was looking at ASLA's online job postings, something I did now and then, and there was a listing for a well-known firm in NYC whose work I really respected. All of the sudden, I thought, "Wow, I could work there." And if not there, then somewhere else in New York. Why not? I'd done a brief stint at the City of Berkeley and knew I didn't want a government job; I'd worked for two landscape architecture firms in Santa Fe as the sole employee, which was good but not altogether satisfying; I was doing the self-employed landscape designer thing (still working towards being a registered landscape architect), and that was o.k. but kind of lonely and limited; I was doing the UNM thing and was pretty sure I didn't want to be a full-time academic; I had even tried some freelance writing and knew that wasn't for me, either; the last unexplored territory, it seemed, was to work in a big landscape architecture firm. Not much opportunity for that in or near Santa Fe. In New York I could work for a diversified firm that did public projects and private commercial and residential projects (rooftop gardens! cool!) in a stimulating, challenging environment where I would really be forced to earn my chops, etc. It could be really great to have that experience. If I hated it, I hated it, but at least I would have tried it and learned a lot in the process, gained great experience, and have something impressive on my resume. That day, I said to J, who had been suggesting off and on moving to NYC ever since we met in 2001 and who had always been met with my resistance, "maybe we should move to New York city." I'd like to say he fell off his chair or spat out his soup or something dramatic, but I think his response was more subued than that, a kind of quietly incredulous "really?"

3. Family: My parents live in CT, and almost all of my extended family is also on the east coast. J's parents both lived in England. Getting to both places, but especially to England, from Santa Fe was a major ordeal. Perhaps it would be better to be closer to both of our families. 

4. To live somewhere more sustainable: Santa Fe seemed, in many ways, unsustainable from an environmental perspective. You're in a city in the desert, where not that many people should be but where too many people are, using up precious water, spending a lot of fuel getting goods to and from port cities...I could go on but I'm even boring myself at this point. But suffice it to say, we were tired of constantly thinking about and feeling guilty for how much water we were using (which wasn't much, relatively, but still); showering with buckets that we then emptied out onto the perennials; spending hours each week draining the rain barrels and dealing with the water-wise but antiquated irrigation system...and so on. Plus, Santa Fe is 7,500 feet above sea level, and we convinced ourselves that living at a lower elevation was better for our health as well.

There are other reasons, too, but like I said, I'm bored and so probably boring, too. Now I know why I've been putting this post off!  Maybe I'll write sometime about why Beacon instead of Brooklyn or NYC, which were in the running when we made that trip in March of '05. And maybe not. I have to keep reminding myself that I'm writing this blog for me, not for some audience who will be upset if I don't fill in all the details. So from now on I'm just going to talk about what I want to talk about, post the pictures I want to post, and enjoy telling the story the way I want to tell it, holes and all.

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Why later. Miscellaneous March '05 pictures now.


I will, eventually, address the why question, but as I'm a bit pressed for time tonight, here are some random images from J's and my first trip to NY in March of 2005.

J, Jack, Agnes, and Boo in the hotel room in Fishkill, NY. Back when we were looking at Beacon, there wasn't a single hotel or B & B (no hotels, still, but a couple B & B's now). We were grateful to find one in nearby Fishkill that allowed pets. By the way, Fishkill doesn't mean that they kill all the fish - "kill" is Dutch for creek, so it translates as fish creek. 


Beautiful installation in the hallway at P.S. 1. Wish I knew the artist's name.

The cellphone "tree" - we didn't have these in NM because they would look even more ridiculous than they do here. Not too many tall trees in the southwest unless you're right by the river. And even then...
Is anyone actually fooled by these? I guess they at least provide some comic relief on dull highway drives.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

I Love Beacon


After the last posting, J was concerned that I painted Beacon in a bad light compared to Santa Fe. I suppose I did, but only to illustrate the point of view of those incredulous ones who so bluntly asked "why?" when we moved here (see previous posting). So to set the record straight, I love Beacon, and I'm glad it's my home. 

In fact, I feel a song coming on!* I love Beacon in the springtime:



I love Beacon in the fall:



I love Beacon in the summer, when it sizzles:



And in the winter...well, not so much. But I've never been a huge fan of that season, anywhere. Still, plenty to enjoy, including the three red foxes and two deer we saw on our walk along the Hudson this afternoon. Our friend Jennifer, who spent 13 years in Nevada before moving here, and who still gets claustrophobic from the unrelenting green foliage of summer, says she likes the winter because everything opens up a bit more. You can see the sky, and even catch glimpses of the horizon sometimes.  



And the dogs love the snow, and it's the one time of year when we don't have to worry about ticks. So you see, I really do love Beacon, every season, every year.


Next up: My answer to the "why" question.


*Please don't sue me, estate of Les Baxter.

Monday, January 5, 2009

Why?



What we left.

After we moved to Beacon, people we met were often surprised that we hadn't moved from Brooklyn (where the vast majority of newcomers to this fair city are from - more on that in a minute). When we told them we had moved here from Santa Fe, New Mexico, the response was almost invariably a blank, uncomprehending stare, followed by the question: "Why?" (As in, why would anyone in their right mind move from somewhere so beautiful to, well, Beacon?)

Most folks who move up here from the city (as in New York city) are moving from Brooklyn, and most of those emigrated from Williamsburg before it became nauseatingly full of hipsters. We were already pretty sure we didn't want to live in Williamsburg because it was already full of said hipsters in 2005. As one of our friends from Santa Fe said about her visit there, "It was chilling: I got off the train and everyone looked just like me. " That and high real estate prices were enough of a deterrent for us. But for many newly transplanted Beaconites, most of them artists or other designer-y types, this little city was attractive because it wasn't near Ground Zero; real estate prices were much more affordable; it seemed like a good place to raise kids (you could have an actual yard, for starters); there was a burgeoning art community (some even call it a renaissance); and all still close enough to NYC (about an hour and 20 minutes on the Metro North line, a beautiful ride along the Hudson) to not feel totally out of touch with what you left. Many of our friends still commute to the city for work at least part-time.

So, then, why Beacon for us? More on this soon. Stay tuned.


What we gained.

Sunday, January 4, 2009

Background? The characters, anyway.


I'm not really sure who I'm writing this blog for. Mostly for myself, I suppose, though if it's just for me, then why not make it totally private? Perhaps I harbor many bloggers' fantasy that someone will see my meanderings, think they're the most brilliant thing ever, and want to publish them. More likely it's so that I can share my memories and pictures with J, my best friend of seven years and husband of three months, and other family members and friends who might want to see/read my rendition of how it all went down. Like I said in the last posting, I don't keep a scrapbook anymore, so this is, in a sense, my scrapbook of those three plus years since we left Santa Fe on our Beacon adventure.

But for the random person who googles Beacon and stumbles upon this blog and hasn't given up reading yet, perhaps they want a wee bit of background. I did kind of jump into the plot at the deep end. 

So here are the characters:

Naomi. Your narrator and photographer. Landscape designer who will be a landscape architect as soon as she passes the fifth and final section of the Landscape Architecture Registration Examination. Moved to Santa Fe, NM straight after getting her Master of Landscape Architecture from Berkeley. Met J in summer of 2001, because he lived in the live/work lofts where she worked (and because of destiny, of course). 


J. Artist, designer, and lots of other things here and there to pay the rent/mortgage in between art sales. Born in Brazil, grew up in Suffolk, UK, moved to L.A. in the 1980s, moved to Santa Fe in the early 1990s. Initially attracted to Naomi for her two vehicles: A 1972 Chevy El Camino and a beat-up Toyota pickup truck (slightly more reliable than the Elky and perfect for trolling the back roads of New Mexico). First gift to Naomi was a rusty shovel. That's why she loves him.



Jack. Sweetest dog on earth. German Shepherd/Collie mix, born on Christmas Day, 1990, adopted by J and his then-partner at the perfect age to be adopted, 8 weeks. Died on a warm spring day in 2007. We still miss him.

King Jack


Agnes and Boo. German Shepherd/?/? mixes, sisters and littermates, born 6/29/04 at Bridging the Worlds Animal Sanctuary after their mother was rescued from a hoarder. Spent the first 13 weeks of their lives (note that the socialization period for dogs is 12 weeks) there, on a mesa in between Santa Fe and Albuquerque, with two wonderful people and about 60 dogs. Adopted by Naomi and J in September. As they drove home together, it started raining - in New Mexico, a good omen. Very, very shy around people, even today, but much better than they were at the beginning which was almost impossible. Most people continue to think that they are either coyotes, wolves, or a mix of the two. To us they're just our wonderful, cuddly, charismatic wildlings.  Still, it makes for funny anecdotes: On a walk recently, a girl saw Agnes and Boo and asked her mother "Mommy, are those foxes?" And her mother replied matter-of-factly, "No, dear, they're wolves." 


Boo

Agnes

Saturday, January 3, 2009

Santa Fe to NY, March 2005



I used to keep a journal and write at least once daily. That fell by the wayside many years ago, but I still do have a journal, which I write in from time to time. For me, in addition to creating a record of what happened when, writing has always been, among other things, a way to sift through the cacophonic rantings in my head.

And I used to keep a scrapbook, long before "scrapbooking" became a big-box marketing bonanza that people like me sneer now at. I'd put in pictures I'd taken, sometimes even from film I'd developed and prints I'd made myself in the darkroom (remember prints?), as well as clippings from newspapers and magazine, ticket stubs, cards - you know, the usual real-life stuff that scrapbooks used to be made of. 

I dug out my journal from that first "reconnaissance mission" in March of 2005 and was disappointed to find only one entry. But here it is:

Clinton, OK, March 12, 2005



We were going to take the girls [our two younger dogs, Agnes and Boo, still not yet a year old] and leave Jack [the oldster] with K., the housesitter, but K. didn't show up when he was supposed to and so we changed the plan and brought "the whole fandamnily," as J likes to say. Didn't actually leave until 2 p.m. (only 5 hours late!) and so we didn't get to Clinton - about an hour west of OKC till 11 pm or so. We stopped several times on the way, and it was wonderful to see the girls exploring the new environs - a rest stop with green, tallish grass in TX, then another one in OK, very steep hill with a woods at the bottom. Little Wildlings. Jack seems to be faring okay. Agnes likes it best up front, sitting between us, nose to the air vents. Last night we stopped at the Trade Winds Motor Lodge. The kid behind the counter, curly hair all over his eyes, just 18, and a bunch of his friends were hanging out there, keeping him company. After I'd checked in and gotten the "complimentary" Elvis story, the kid said,"Remember: What happens at the Trade Winds stays at the Trade Winds."


Oh, and we stopped at Cadillac Ranch! We weren't planning on going but I had told J about it and spotted it from the highway just in time, and so we went, just as the sun set and darkness fell. 

This morning it is bright, sunny, and warm - must be in the 60s. the dogs are good, and are getting used to being in unfamiliar places, being taken on leash, etc. The pastures or farmlands are this intense green here, like a Crayola crayon color, like a color if you saw it in a photograph you'd think someone had bumped up the saturation. A deep, shocking lime green, almost chartreuse, and such a contrast to the fallow fields around, and the dark silhouettes of the trees, still not yet leafed out. 

The drive last night was beautiful, too. Green pastures and brown fields and pink sky...old grain elevators with their white paint all peeling in that perfect lead-paint way, the romantic patina of the Rt. 66 heyday. I wonder if I'll ever tire of silos and grain elevators - one really beautiful one was just concrete, very "modern" looking, almost art-deco. 

J is in an antique store. Jack's on the "sofa" and the girls are lying on the floor, in the shade. I hope we get going soon. Want to make it to Nashville tonight.

It all started when...



I don't remember how, exactly, it all started, but in March of 2005 J and I bundled ourselves and our three dogs drive into our VW camper and drove from Santa Fe, New Mexico to New York, on the following reconnaissance mission: Should we move to New York? If so, where? Our three options were Beacon, Brooklyn, and Manhattan. We looked at Beacon first, fell in love with a house, and then didn't even bother looking farther south.