RoadBroads

December 9, 2018 by Melanie Ormand - No Comments

‘Tis the Season for…Orange!

In these days of red and green, I cringe. Orange is My Color.

Imagine my delight when this little orb danced into my line of sight.

Its mutant reflection calmed concerns about aging handwriting.

Triple bonus came upon realizing this is my first-observed orange Christmas decoration.

If this is the wave of future noels, I’m all in.

The exploding consumerism of the holiday season sickens me. I avoid malls and stores. I toss every catalog as it arrives.

Our house decorations are deliberate and minimal. Fireplace nutcracker. Santa moose. Seven-inch white ceramic tree. German music box.

Red and green candles atop the dining table remind us this is the season to slow down, offer light, pay attention, and breathe deep. Ignore what does not enhance Life.

I call it a season for the senses: see; listen; smell; touch, taste. No cash required. No purchases needed. Only savory observation.

Like an unexpected orange Christmas decoration.

I’d gone to Sugar Land’s Town Center to observe our infamous “Selfie” sculpture.

The bronze piece outraged many people at its unveiling. Even Good Morning America featured the art. Why the fuss?

“Selfie” is fun, engaging, and contemporary.

If we want to engage more people in appreciating artwork, we must experiment, modernize some creations.

Is that not partly why Lin-Manuel Miranda’s “Hamilton” still shines?

The same answer applies to painting, writing, dancing, etc.–name your art form.

One of the models for “Selfie” is Morgan, the niece of fellow RoadBroad Kay Cox. After my traffic box post last week, Kay enlightened me about the prevalence of public art in Sugar Land.

My cosmopolitan pride needed the education and the reminder: it’s never too late to learn. And so, I returned to the road.

Since, I’ve wandered across Sugar Land’s parks, streets, sidewalks, plazas and bridges. A wealth of public art surfaced. Color-filled traffic light boxes at 13 intersections. Another 18 installations of bronze, iron, granite, and glass in sculpture, mobile, monument, and tiled form, all encircling an old Brazos River sugar town.

What about where you live? Is there public art? Please tell us more!

In seeing how other communities create their art spaces, we each learn. As we share with each other, we enrich both our communities and our own lives. Thus, change gains wings.

It’s not just stories we need. We need art. In all its forms.

P.S. Notice the orange shirt in the “Selfie” picture?

Unplanned for this blog post.

Like that orange orb, floating katey-cornered from where I stood.

Ah, another synchronicity of the season…

December 7, 2018 by Ellen Seaton - 1 Comment

A RoadBroad’s Meniscus

What’s the saying? Don’t you know? RoadBroads are like sharks. They must keep moving. That’s why we stay on the road. Whether we are traveling around the country or inside the 610 Loop in Houston. We walk a lot and look at everything. We are always on the move.

Except.……

I have been diagnosed with a torn meniscus in my right knee. Don’t know what the heck that is? I didn’t either before this week. All I knew was that I was in pain. I love to walk, but lately that has been a painful experience for me.

Isn’t this a cute lil’ chubby knee? Adorable. Who would think anything this cute would cause so much pain?

I planned my entire retirement around writing and walking. Tuesdays are outing days for walking around parks, museums, neighborhoods, etc. Now I am temporarily side-lined. I am still walking, but it can get very painful after short distances.

What causes this condition? When I checked Google, I found out that this is a very common ailment for athletes. Well, of course, that’s what happened. Marathons, tennis, rugby, I do it all. I am such an athlete, that I hurt my knee. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Okay, so you’re not even going to begin to believe that? I thought you were my friend. Won’t you allow me this one little phantasm?

A torn meniscus can also be a result of aging and wearing out parts. I could think that, but I do not see myself as old. I know I am not young, but I am definitely not “old”. Other people my age may be old, but that does not apply to me. Yes, my youthful delusions do help me sleep well at night.

When I went to the doctor, I was sent off to get x‑rays of my knee. Then what was really cute was that the doctor’s assistant showed me the x‑rays. He would point at things as if I could see what he saw. As he spoke, I nodded politely. I understood what he said. Yes, there is a treatment for this. Good.

When I returned home from the medical appointment, I wondered what a writer could do with a torn meniscus. Should I write out a dialogue with my knee? Write poetry? What the heck rhymes with “meniscus”?

Here we go:

Hello Meniscus,

You make me feel like such a nimscus,

You impede my sunny dispositicus.

Let’s try this:

Oh my meniscus,

Why can’t you be more viscous?

Yet, you are torniscus.

Maybe this?

Ouch, Ouch my torn meniscus,

Maybe I’ll just sit and drink a tea of hibiscus.

Okay, I know what you are thinking. Yes, I’ll stick with prose.

Until next week.….

December 2, 2018December 2, 2018 by Melanie Ormand - No Comments

Why December 2nd Matters

We fly the flag at our house every December 2nd.

This year, for the first time, I notice its wrinkles, saggy middle, and a lengthening shadow.

I smile. Kind of like (cough, cough)… us!

Twenty nine years ago today, DH and I married.

That ’80s hair, the pouffy hat, and those puffy sleeves offered omens of flyaway adventure.

Arrive they did.

We’ve traveled by land, water, and sky. In planes, trains, boats, ships, and submarines. Up mountains on Segway and in aerial trams. Over rivers and through woods (yes, sometimes to see Grandma). In three decades, we’ve slept in all 51 states plus 18 foreign countries on two continents.

Some doubted we’d travel so far for so long. A tumultuous five-year courtship preceded our noon-time wedding ceremony.

Pre-marriage counseling smoothed our ride. We predicted our issues and developed a response plan. How’s that for two crisis communicators?

We committed to travel together. Through Everything. Our platinum bands meant more than simple finger metal.

Shout-out to Dr. Tim Van Duivendyk for his wedding “charge:” you’ve got to meet in the middle with each other — and the middle that’s in the middle of those two middles is very difficult to find.

Whatever road we’re on, DH and I aim for the middle lane. Sometimes, we don’t arrive at the same time. Sometimes, somebody must wait waaay longer than they’d like for the other. But, always, we meet in our middle. Eventually.

In writing this, I realize this strategy applies to many life situations.

Yes, December 2, 1989 was our Big Day. Big, too, for others in other years for other reasons:

On This Date BY THE ASSOCIATED PRESS

1823	President James Monroe outlines his Manifest Destiny doctrine.
1969	The Boeing 747 jumbo jet debuts.

Whether it’s across a century or only half as long, the years, the middle, and the adventure roll on.

For each of us in our own ways.

For DH and me, we’re making more than a life together.

We’re creating a Story.

What’s yours?

November 29, 2018 by Ellen Seaton - No Comments

Fall Weather

I traveled to Hermann Park this week. While I was there I saw something that you are never guaranteed to see in Houston.

Fall foliage.

All around the park I could see trees with yellow and orange leaves. They were really pretty. Considering the fact that Houston never does fall the same way two years in a row, I was delighted to see this.

Yes, I know all of my relatives and acquaintances who live in places like Iowa and Colorado are way past fall colors and deep into snow and blizzards. They are the folks who put snow chains on their tires and actually have separate wardrobes for hot weather versus cold weather.

But here in Houston we don’t always get a decent fall season. When we do it is a cause for celebration.

I have even managed to turn off my central air conditioner for extended periods of time. I like my home at about 68 degrees. That means when many here are turning on the heat and lighting fires, I am opening up the windows.

And fall can be a fleeting season. It teases us. One day the air is crisp and cool. Low temperatures in the 40s and the highs in the 60s. Brrrrrrrr!!! The next day the warmth will blow back in and the temperature will jump up to 80 degrees.

There are even some people around town who saw a few snow flakes shortly before Thanksgiving. They bundled up in coats and sweaters one day and the next day they wore shorts and flip flops to go shopping for a Christmas tree.

Of course when I say “a few snowflakes” I really mean like two or three. Total.

We don’t wait for the snow to stick to anything to get excited. That event is too rare. After surviving our typical hot and humid summers, we get our weather jollies anywhere we can.

One lone snowflake can give us the hope that there just might be a just and loving god somewhere in the universe.

This brings me back to the picture I showed you a few weeks ago. Here in Houston, if all else fails, we will pretent that it’s cold for the holidays. Many folks like snowmen and will blow up big plastic ones in their front yards.

Also, please note that in this picture the holiday critters are sitting on top of boxes of firelogs that are specially prepared for enjoying a fire in the fire place. Not exactly the way our rugged pioneer forefathers and foremothers did it. However, it doesn’t get cold enough for people to go out and chop up a cord of wood. So we improvise.

Actually I just noticed recently that one can order a cord of wood from Amazon. How convenient!

Back to the firelogs. Some have told me that they are good, because if you don’t use real wood, then you are helping to save a natural resource. Who knew!

Once the fire is roaring in the fireplace, you can imagine the early pioneers braving all the elements so that now we can drive to the nearest store for firelogs. Pretty strenuous work for a fire that is lit maybe two or three times a year.

Every year people do love their holiday traditions and fires in the fire place. It’s fun to watch and observe.

I personally don’t have a fire place. I have air conditioning for warm weather and open windows for cold weather. When the temperature inside my home drops below 68 degrees, then I turn on the heat. A little. For maybe five minutes.

I hope everyone is enjoying the fall weather in whatever way makes them happy.

Until next week.……

November 27, 2018 by Melanie Ormand - 2 Comments

Being Art

The headline stuns.

How did I not know about an art feast gracing a baker’s dozen intersections across my town?

My ego burns.

Isn’t a 26-year, artsy resident — one who’s also an avowed news junkie — supposed to know all about the who and what of Art where she lives?

I share my discovery with fellow RoadBroad Ellen, who mentions that similar traffic-signal art boxes stand across Houston. My mind wonders — is there anything Sugar Land has that the bigger, bossier sister city, 22 miles northeast, doesn’t?

My ego sizzles anew. Town pride smokes in the same skillet.

A Google search confirms Houston and Sugar Land are among hundreds across America that have repurposed ugly metal boxes into talking points for travelers stuck in traffic. The effort began at least 15 years ago in Connecticutt. Leave it to the Yankees to be so clever. And yet…

What a delightful way to turn unsightly man-made mechanics into eye treasures for the stuck, the delayed, the bored!

Ignorance morphs into curiousity which yields opportunity.

A day later, it’s time for an Art Box Scavenger Hunt.

First find is Judy Hope’s Tweet, Tweet, Sweet. Her melange of birds, hiding under this overpass, speaks to me. Freedom. Happiness. Peace. And color!

I dub the next stop “Blue Belle.” Not for that Brenham confection up the road.

Vivienne Dang’s Lady in Blue looks outward, dreamily, yearning of a bright future.

Her face rests directly atop the traffic box door. I wonder is that how she opens up — only at eye level?

The sea of blue in which the entire image sits mirrors the background sky. Are we all sitting in a similar sea of blue?

The bees arrive down the road.

I offer thanks these insects are not this large in real life.

Why does this box scare me even as it lures me closer?

Mike Doan calls his creation Bizzy Beeze, praising the vital role played by honey bees in the farms that circle the Sugar Land community.

I realize an odd truth. The Bees have this blog post. Hmm…

Next comes Blossoms. That’s my title Artist Nataliya Scheib titled her creation, Butterfly Garden.

I see only flowers. Zoom in and you’ll find butterflies by the dozen, darting to and fro among the color-filled panorama of flowers.

This is the only traffic box I touch. Can you guess why?

The final box I visit yields a single Butterfly.

Joy Chandler’s creation of Sweet Transformation highlights the plight of the endangered Monarch Butterfly, supposedly native to Sugar Land.

This lone image echoes Freedom. Joy. And the approaching Spring. The background of pastel circles add a sweet, supportive pallet.

I smile, standing here at the last traffic-box art installation.

Birds. Blue Belle. Bees. Blossoms. Butterfly.

Don’t forget Boxes. As in Traffic-Box Art.

The theme emerges: B Art. And now you ‘get’ the title of this blog post.

But what it all means? Alfie, do you know?

Me? I have no clue. But I will drive back down Highway 90A before long.

Eight traffic boxes await review.

November 22, 2018 by Ellen Seaton - No Comments

Off Road With Traditions

It started Wednesday afternoon at 1:00 p.m. Driving down the freeway, I had just left Starbucks and was heading home. There was a lot of traffic. I debated about running errands. I looked at the traffic again. Heck no. All errands would wait until next week.

It was the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. Holiday traffic was growing by leaps and bounds. I don’t do holiday traffic. I went home.

As a RoadBroad, Thanksgiving is the time of year where I go “off road” until the holidays are over. Except for Halloween, I am not a big holiday person. As an adult I converted to Judaism, which means I no longer celebrate Christmas and my other holiday traditions have changed as well.

As you might remember from my blog last week, my Thanksgiving traditions are somewhat off the main road. I am not alone in tweaking the Thanksgiving theme. I took this picture when dear friend (DF) and I were driving to our Thanksgiving dinner at Kiran’s. These folks weren’t at a relatives house. They were standing in a long line waiting to get into Cleburne’s Cafeteria. Thankfully we had reservations where we were going.

We drove to our favorite Indian restaurant that prepared a trans-cultural Thanksgiving dinner. There were many traditional foods, but prepared in Indian style. There was turkey and dressing for the carnivores. I filled my plate with rice, yams, brussel sprouts, green beans, and carrots and a few things I did not recognize from childhood.

It’s not easy being a vegetarian at Thanksgiving. Once DF and I made a meal completely out of a variety of squashes. It was successful, but I prefer to let someone else do the cooking. Over the years we have managed to find a variety of restaurants that will accomodate vegetarian palates. However, Kiran’s is our favorite.

I also enjoyed a pumpkin martini. Was that traditional or off road? Who cares, it tasted really good.

After we completed our feast it was time to go to the movies. This year’s pick was At Eternity’s Gate. This movie told the story of the last days of Vincent Van Gogh. Not exactly a cheerful movie, but what a fascinating character. As an added bonus there was a cameo appearance by Gauguin. If you are an art lover, then you don’t want to miss this one.

Tomorrow this RoadBroad will not be on the road. Let all of the shoppers enjoy the crowds and traffic. I plan on relaxing and reading a good book.

November 19, 2018 by Melanie Ormand - No Comments

Recording a Reading Revolution

I love books, as evidenced by this corner of my house:

Again, I’m a planet outlier.

Publisher’s Weekly bemoans a 20 percent decline in fiction sales. Only one year out of the past five have sales climbed. Thank Harper Lee’s 2015 book, Go Set a Watchman.

All the reasons for declining fiction sales equal sensible logic:

More competition for entertainment hours and products.

More closings of brick-and-mortar stores.

Fewer book reviews.

Shorter attention spans.

Even audiobooks are displacing the printed novel. Mike Shatzkin, a noted publishing industry guru, calls it words-to-be-heard vs. words-to-be-read.

What’s ignored in the worrying noise is the price we’re paying by not reading.

Be it television, video games, the World Wide Web, streaming books, and other entertainment options, we’re actively rewiring both our brains and bodies. Few of us pay attention to the consequences, either short or long-term.

Writer Maryanne Wolf takes a look in her fascinating (ahem, non-fiction book), Reader Come Home: The Reading Brain in a Digital World.

Wolf cites varying studies that blame the widespread screen explosion for our collapsing attention spans, declining imagination and thinking skills, worsening physical health, and strained relationships.

One of the first studies came out in 1998. Linda Stone, of the Virtual Worlds Group at Microsoft, possessed frightening prescience when she coined the term “continuous partial attention.”

Stone referenced children specifically when she created the term. Twenty years later, she’d no doubt label us adults with the same syndrome.

Tag me guilty, too. But only when I’m not reading a book. In that printed landscape, my attention laser-focuses to imagine a world only I can see.

Delicious creativity and control! Fun and fulfilling, too!

Yet, these recent books and magazines frighten me about this road we’re on. There seems an almost willful ignorance for behavior and consequences. In confronting these effects, there’s information and messages to share, heed.

Even so, I cross my fingers, remembering what’s happened with music. Printed books could travel a similar road.

Remember LP’s and turntables? They’re back, and popular, for reasons I don’t comprehend. Records over CD or streaming tunes? Clunky equipment over flat, round disks or no plastic at all? Pray tell, why?

Amid my semi-Luddite questioning, possibility arises.

Once can become twice.

Music now, books next?

Meantime, I read, wait, and check my mailbox.

Shoes inbound promise a coming retro-revolution.

Our world needs more fiction, published. And read.

A broad can hope.

November 14, 2018 by Ellen Seaton - 2 Comments

Traveling Through the Holidays

Ho hum. Halloween is over. No more ghosts, goblins or witches. Now I am sad. Now what do I have to blog about? Maybe I should write about how much I miss Halloween and have already started planning for next year.

What I feel compelled to write about is the fact that I saw and heard the beginnings of Christmas…..before Halloween. Stores began to decorate with lights and music. Santa Claus sat on the shelves just one aisle over from scary skeletons. Has the world gone completely mad? What happened to Thanksgiving? Are we ignoring Thanksgiving this year?

In my sense of order in the universe, Christmas does not show up until after Thanksgiving. I like to take all of the holidays in order. Thanksgiving is coming up next week. Now it is time for Jack-O-Lanterns to turn into pumpkin pies.

I wanted to include pictures in this blog of some nice Thanksgiving decorations. However, I couldn’t find any. Driving around I did see one large inflated turkey wearing a pilgrim hat in front of a nice house, but I did not know the people who lived there. Since this is Texas and I didn’t want to get shot, I decided not to take pictures of a stranger’s house. However, I visited a friend who decorated her house with this dandy pumpkin table runner. Enjoy.

Thanksgiving is a nice enough holiday far as they go. If you like turkey and football you typically aren’t disappointed. However, I am a vegetarian and not especially fond of football.

Let me repeat that.

I am a vegetarian and I am not very fond of football……and I live in Texas. I realize that by publicly posting this I am risking getting an eviction notice giving me 30 days to vacate the Lone Star State. Over the years it has been a bit tricky for a vegetarian in Texas to find just the right traditions befitting the holiday. But thankfully my Dear Friend (DF) has helped provide ideas and guidance.

Before I retired last May, I would attend a departmental Thanksgiving luncheon every year at work. I always volunteered to bring the salad. That’s really the only thing a room full of carnivores will trust a vegetarian to bring to a luncheon. Luckily, since I am not much of a chef, I always found it hard to mess up cooking a salad when all I had to do was open the prewashed and premixed bags of lettuce. Then I would add a handy variety of bottled salad dressings fresh from the grocery store. Please feel free to borrow my special recipe if you would like.

Back to my personal celebrations, it took us several years, but my DF and I finally hit upon a winning combination for our turkey day festivities. We begin by finding a restaurant that has a definite Thanksgiving vibe, but also includes plenty of vegetarian options. I prefer a restaurant without a television; however, one over the bar area for the die hard football fans is acceptable. Our current favorite is Kiran’s. They provide a special wonderful buffet that includes both Indian dishes and a variety of traditional Thanksgiving offerings. When the meal is over, we will go to see a movie. Since we don’t eat turkey, we won’t need to worry about tryptophan making us sleepy. A Star is Born? The Nutcracker and the Four Realms?

Once Thanksgiving is over, then we can discuss additional holiday topics; such as, this insane picture that I captured outside of a local grocery store.

Until next week……

November 11, 2018 by Melanie Ormand - 2 Comments

A Bag, A Man, A Card

To live well, we must see.

But some days, life demands listening, too.

Consider yesterday.

At the grocery store, I laid my blue recycled bag onto the short conveyor belt. Beneath the bag scooted a pair of soup jars, cornbread muffins and bananas, plus a bag of greens. Dinner.

I turned to my purse. On the phone, I tapped the grocery app then reached for my wallet. I heard a male voice and looked up.

The checkout person — millennial, I assumed — repeated his question, “you like books?”

I smiled.

Compadre! I love when this happens!

“Love them actually.” I shook my head, wondering why he had asked me the question. He held up my bag, returned my smile.

My grin broadened. His friendly blue eyes returned kinship. On the conveyor belt, his hands slowed. Both palms now clutched the bag of greens as if they offered secret treasure. I looked to my left. A growing line behind me. Here we go.

“I write books, too,” I said and, without pausing for his acknowledgment, volunteered, “My first novel, it’s in progress. Agents awaiting completion.”

“Really?” his eyes alit with new interest. “What’s it about?”

My mind raced. What do I tell this reader about a book targeted at older women, female readers who’ve lived longer lives than his, many who’ve raised children and worked for older versions of himself?

A brain flash. Elevator pitch then the blog. I sped-talked through my novel plot then soared to here, the RoadBroads blog. I was on the road here at the grocery store.

“You might check out my blog.”

He cocked an eyebrow. My left hand clawed through my purse, scrounging for a RoadBroads business card. Holding one aloft like an envious prize, I elevator-pitched the blog.

(An explanation for non-writers: an elevator pitch equals a short summary of a story-in-progress. The concept riffs off the image of a writer and agent riding an elevator together, giving the former only a few quick floors to tell her entire novel to the latter.)

Mr. Checkout took my card and listened to my generous pitch. WIth kind eyes and matching generosity.

In our brief exchange, he taught me much.

When you listen, you see people, discover opportunity, and, sometimes, find a fellow reader.

Translation: listening builds Life.

Plus, we’re never too old to learn.

A day later, I wonder: did the grocery store exchange begin with my t‑shirt? Pardon the sloppy selfie but consider the sentiment.

Like listening, words matter, too. Now. More than Ever.

November 8, 2018 by Ellen Seaton - No Comments

Election Day Art Stroll

On election day while so many people were standing in line waiting to vote or working at the polls or watching the election news on television, I decided to take an Art Stroll. I had already voted and done everything I could do as far as campaign efforts. Watching the news was just making me nervous and stressed. I needed some self-care and relaxation. As always, one of the best ways for me to stay calm and centered is to surround myself with art.

Lucky for me Wivla (Women in the Visual and Literary Arts) had an exhibition called Shape at the Downtown Houston Library. Visual art was combined with the written word. Artists and writers combined forces give their impressions of Space via paintings, poems, collage, short essays, and mixed media. I believe this exhibition will be on display through December.

As it turns out I recognized the names of several women writers and artists who were a part of this exhibition. Here is a mixed media piece by Sharon Bippus. Her piece deals with Space as it pertains to family and generations of relatives.

I took the following picture of a group of works in this exhibition. When I looked at it later I noticed that I had included the painting in the upper right corner that was created by artist, Josena Arquieta, who has a studio in the Silos at Sawyer Yards. She is a very talented artist I met in the Women in Art class I have been taking at the Glassell School of Art. I look forward to seeing more of her work during one of the upcoming Second Saturdays at Sawyer Yards.

After strolling through this exhibit at the Houston Library, I traveled to the Museum of Fine Arts. I wanted to see the exhibit of the British Royal Family. I especially enjoyed the following pictures.

I loved this one of Queen Elizabeth with Ann Richards who was the Governor of Texas in the early 1990s. The Governor was hosting a party for the Queen here in Houston at the Museum of Fine Arts.

Ann Richards was always self-assured and projected a strong independent persona whenever she was in public. She also had a great sense of humor.

Of course the Queen remains a very powerful woman herself. Throughout the exhibit it was interesting to see how the various portraits of her have shown her over the years.

I especially liked this picture of Queen Elizabeth. It’s not the typical portrait where she is sitting down looking elegantly regal. There is a real strength in this picture that is not always shown in her day to day duties.

This exhibit will remain on display until late January 2019, I enjoyed it so much that I strolled through it twice and may go back again.

By the time I had made my way through all of the works by local women artists and the pictures of strong women rulers and leaders, it was time travel home. I was in a much better frame of mind and ready to take however the election results turned out.

Until next week.….….…..

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