In Honor of Imbolc

Last week we celebrated Imbolc, the beginning of the Celtic spring. Up until twelve years ago we would have a big party to celebrate the earth's rebirth. Christmas by now was a distant memory and plans for the garden would start heating up. My daughter Piper's birth on February 10 twelve years ago gave us even more of a reason to celebrate. And isn't she glad we didn't call her Imbolc?


In fact, we no longer need to celebrate Imbolc or St Brigid's Day (as it is also known) or even Groundhog's Day because our daughter's birthday party is now the focus for much celebration. But I can't help putting pictures of my garden here to remind me of the beginning of spring and gardens to come. Happy Spring everyone!

To get you in the mood I highly recommend Cultivating Delight: A Natural History of My Garden by Diane Ackerman. The following is her invocation for spring:

I want time to pool, not race, but tonight I’m madly impatient for the growing season to begin, and the garden, which is a different Eden for every gardener, to reinvent itself as a renewable paradise, if not a permanent one. I don’t
believe in garden gods, but I do believe in the power of invocation to stir the
spirit

.



Garden of growth, garden of green blood,
garden where dappled light and water mix in the trees,
crow garden, beetle garden, garden of dreams, garden on
the oasis of a life-drenched planet, garden where desire finds form, garden of
floral architecture and speckled fawns,

garden where wonder is incised on a
pebble millions of years old, garden visibly and invisibly teeming, garden of
beds and seed parlors, garden of dew and overdue, garden where we plight our
troth and ply our trade, garden that tilts the mind into the sacred, fleeting
garden, memorial garden, garden abuzz and atwitter, garden where toxins and

tonics both thrive, pool garden, cloud garden, garden that’s an urn for the
soul, garden of roll calls and lists where life tests different recipes, garden
where rain falls like manna, garden whose perennial borders are infinite, garden
whose customs and taboos make mischief in the mind, garden of snow, mind garden
garden of quartz crystal and siren light.



Moss has laid down a welcome mat, and red-capped fungi are mustering like
British soldiers in a rum confusion of sun and ice.
Spring is unlatching its heavy doors, rousting old
dusty hibernators from their sleep, and beginning a quiet fumbling with buttons,
knots and nubbins, and the bolting ribbons of time, light, and gore.
As I walk down to the mailbox, enveloped in mist, birds snitch on twitchy feet in the
aspens, morning ghosts between the houses, and the air tastes green at last.”

Signboard Haiku and Skate Parks

A few posts back we lamented the loss of the Red Apple signboard. And prematurely blamed it on what we thought was a turf war between shrubbery gangs. Now we know it was sold off in the Red Apple auction. Who would have thought our beloved signboard would fall into the hands of outside interests?


But seriously, we were sad to see the Red Apple signboard auctioned off with all the rest of the shelves, counters, market paraphernalia, etc. As a suitable memorial/neighborhood landmark I thought it would be fun to acquire a new signboard and make available a set of letters for the public to use in a weekly haiku. If you have any ideas for poems I'd be happy to post them here until we can locate a new signboard.


Meanwhile, Sean was allowed in to take photos after the auction. It's amazing to think of all the possible uses a giant space like this could become. Go-Kart raceway? Puffball gymnastics? How about a display space for artists or the Bellevue Historic Society? How about a Classic Car Museum? Dance Hall with 50's era diner? Movie house? Rehearsal space for dramatic productions? A branch for BCC classes--they have a north campus--how about a southwest one? Crafts market? Holiday bazaar? Community center with art classes?

Of course, this doesn't take into account the multiple uses a large space can be divided into: grocery store/cafe/tutoring center/hardware store/bookstore/space for small concerts and open mic nights.

Indoor skatepark/teen center anyone?

Puffball Turf War

The word is a shrub gang from Trader Joe's Overlake paid a visit to Newport Hills a couple weeks ago to see what all the buzz was about...we don't want to point any fingers, but some anonymous skaters say they saw something funny going on...





Now you see it
Now you don't

One-Month Anniversary

It's been a month since I started blogging and a month since the demise of the Red Apple. I thought I'd take a moment to recognize a few of my faithful followers who appear to the right:

First-ever Red Apple Award

Just because we're married to each other doesn't mean I can't invent an award just for him: Sean started EffStop Local this month and his photos complement my blog nicely because we see a lot of stuff together. When his photos in this blog appear in these pages I try to give him full credit. His work is well worth checking out.

Two of my followers over there on the righthand side of the page won the Premiato Dardos prize for blogging this month and I congratulate them: Citizen K and Premium T.

Citizen K was my very first follower and this means more to me than I can express here. He did me the honor of recognition after accepting his award:

"Since nothing in the rules says I can't do otherwise lest the sun burn out, I'm naming five people who write about their everyday lives in such a way that they have either deepened our long-time friendship or helped build a new one. In no particular order:

The demise of a local chain store inspired Red Apple Elegy, which has become a sort of layman's guide to urban design as seen through the malls, parking lots, and produce stands of the Newport Hills area of the Seattle suburb of Bellevue. Entries like this prove her point that "if you find something ugly you're just not looking closely enough..."

I have found so many wonderful writers through his blog. You can too by scrolling down the right hand side of his webpage where up to the minute snippets appear for each one.

Premium T's blog is a constant inspiration to me and I am so proud of my good friend.

Newport Heights Elementary School

Newport Heights Elementary is a beautiful, green addition to our community. And I love the way its designers made the decision to leave out all the warning signs that plague "old-school" public spaces which list rules in a very uncreative, unfriendly way. Subtlety is woven into the design here. Concrete borders/benches encourage sitting but discourage skateboarding--not with warnings but with small stainless steel raised strips. And this is a school that doesn't stop teaching at the classroom. What do the following photos tell you about what's going on inside? Click to enlarge any photo.



A hallway with child-level windows to see outside as you're walking past.



OK, now I'm curious! Isn't the point of education, (and architecture?) to get a person curious about his or her environment? Correct answer: Yes! What better place than at a school? Don't you wonder what's going on behind the small green window?



I moved around the building focusing on how they were able to drain rainwater from all these different roof pitches. I found this lovely courtyard garden with a circle of rocks as its central element. Looking up I spotted the arrow-like shape of a downspout, trained on the center of the rocks. On rainy days this becomes animated with rain pouring in a beautiful slender waterfall onto the rocks below, creating a
restful sight and sound sculpture for the users of the school's library.



Another view of the library courtyard, showing the windows angled toward the northern sky, bringing in light to this interior space. From the outside you can tell this is the protected heart of the school.



One of several downspouts directing rainwater to the planted areas.



A small amphitheatre for outdoor productions is surfaced with permeable grass, rather than concrete. Also kinder to tumbling small bodies...beyond is a grassy swale which becomes a creek in the rain.





The creek-like outlines on the concrete paths offset the strong vertical lines and angles of the building. This makes them more inviting and human, somehow. As if to say, walk this way...



Wonderfully elegant "treestumps" in concrete for children to sit on as they wait for the bus after school.


I love the proportions here--they seem to emphasize what's important: generous overhangs for rainyday afternoons waiting for the schoolbus, or for moms and dads waiting for the bell to ring. Windows for administrative staff to keep an eye on things from their desks; but also at a height conducive for children to peek in--wonder how the secretaries like this? It's friendly, though. And you know this is the main entry. Always important in a public space.

The Sunny Side of the Street

Gorgeous sunny weekend, clear air--recent highs of 64F. Beautiful weather for moving Mojo Espresso from its increasingly invisible spot beside the Red Apple. The place to be is now across the street with its southeastern exposure, Sahara Pizza and occasional picnic table-selling. Not to mention a nicer view of the wild side of Somerset. Come hang out this weekend--our first "third place" in Newport Hills! You can also let Tom the owner (pictured below) know where you think Mojo should ultimately be placed.

At Play in the Park-ing Lot

Julie directed me to a wonderful San Francisco site called REBar which "remixes the landscape" in a variety of clever, green, artful ways. The "panhandle bandshell" features a fabulous video about throwing up an old-time performance space with recycled car hoods all set to the music from "Triplets of Belleville".
watch it now


Here's another project on the site bearing a strange resemblance to man-made puffballs:



Blow-Up Stroll
By Traci Vogel
San Francisco Examiner

"Rebar, the art and design collective that brought you Park(ing) Day, has come up with a creative new way to interact with the urban environment: Bushwaffle. Just as Park(ing) Day repurposed a public space — the parking spot — Bushwaffle purports to turn the entire city into the rec room of your dreams. In its simplest form, it's a pink inflatable cushion about the size and shape of a chubby cartwheeling toddler. The cushions can be hooked together to make impromptu easy chairs, trampolines, or forts, or they can be used as bicycle airbags, privacy screens, or bantam-weight punching bags. Your imagination's the limit -- a limit which Rebar is quite happy to push on its Bushwaffle Tour, a public stroll incorporating their blow-up tool. The tour, says Rebar, will demonstrate "the power of Bushwaffle to soften any urban surface and provide space for freedom and play." Apply Bushwaffle to the city, and those hard surfaces vanish. Truly, the Bushwaffle gives a whole 'nother meaning to 'art inflation.' "
Wed., Jan. 7, noon, 2009

http://www.rebargroup.org/
Check this out


http://www.bushwaffle.com/project
and this.

Lesson Number 6:
Never, ever be limited by your own imagination