Letter by Letter

First Amendment is First for a Reason

Barb - Hope's Flame — Sat, 04 Oct 2008 14:30:00 GMT

Last week was Banned Books Week. The fact that we live in America and need to even have such a week freaks me out. It's hard for me to wrap my brain around the notion that people STILL BAN BOOKS ALL ACROSS AMERICA. Everyday. And it's 2008. And now we have a VP candidate, Sarah Palin, who has, in her capacity as mayor of Wasilla, Alaska, inquired into whether her town's librarian would consider banning a book. The spin the Republican party is putting on this is that Palin simply asked a question and never actually named a book to be banned. They neglect to mention, however, that the local librarian, who responded to Palin and the rest of the city council that she would not ban a book, was fired two days after the incident. Huh. I doubt it was a coincidence but you can check out various versions of this story here, here, and perhaps the most detailed account here.

Like many people, I have read a lot of the books that have made it on a banned list: The Handmaid's Tale, The Grapes of Wrath, The Color Purple, everything by Judy Bloom, The Adventures of Huckleberry Fin, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, the Harry Potter series, Of Mice and Men, The Catcher in the Rye, A Wrinkle in Time, The Bluest Eye, To Kill a Mockingbird, Flowers for Algernon, A Light in the Attic, Cujo, The House of Spirits, Lord of the Flies, Native Son, Song of Solomon, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, The Great Gatsby, Their Eyes Were Watching God. And that's just to name a few. The American Library Association (ALA) reports there were more than 3,000 attempts to remove books from schools and public libraries between 2000 and 2005. In an interview with NPR, Judith Krug of the ALA says, "They're not afraid of the book; they're afraid of the ideas."

Afraid of the ideas.

I have made a new goal for myself: to write a book that one day makes it on the Most Frequently Banned Books and Most Challenged Books lists. It's the least I can do for the next generation.

For more information about banned books, visit the ALA website. And then go out and buy one of the books on the list; open it up to the title page and write, "In honor of Sarah Palin;" and donate it to the Wasilla, Alaska public library.

Freedom

Barb - Hope's Flame — Fri, 03 Oct 2008 14:35:00 GMT

As many of you know, two and a half years ago, I walked away from my 13-year successful career in Corporate America to pursue creative projects. While my departure seemed sudden for some, even for me at first, the truth of it was I had been slowly coming to that point for some time, working my way, inch by inch, to my ultimate escape from an environment in which I felt trapped and creatively deprived. The process wasn't easy. Following your dreams, leaving behind the comfort of your surroundings, not knowing what lies ahead...these are all risky actions that leave us raw and exposed to the elements. There is a chance, in fact, of having your soul broken should you fall or fail to accomplish what you set out to do. And then, like a big brick trying to weigh down your dreams, there are those who want to keep you from doing it by questioning your tactics and sanity. I even did this to myself, boarding up escape routes with practicalities like "but what about health insurance" and "how will I ever pay the rent." But I pushed through the barriers. It was hard. There was a struggle. But I did it. And once I fled, I never looked back.

I do, sometimes, think about those left behind. While many expressed their desire to do the same thing, to break free and do what their hearts really want to do, and despite the fact I showed them how to do it, they choose to stay right where they are, for whatever reason or reasons. This is not a judgment but simply an observation. Like I said, for some, it is easier to watch, nose pressed up against the window, than to leap.

Little did I know, someone had recorded my escape. So for those of you still needing someone to show you how to do it, I give you this:

Not So Ordinary, but Definitely Sparkling, Moment

Barb - Hope's Flame — Mon, 29 Sep 2008 03:16:00 GMT

There was nothing ordinary about it. But it definitely did sparkle and it definitely was a moment. And not just for me. The others who ventured throughout the studio felt something too. Something more than them. Something more than what was on the walls and shelves and tables. It was in the air. It was in the air around the air. And not even the proverbial knife could cut through it. Why would you want to cut it anyway? It was beautiful in its massive, malleable, enveloping wholeness. >

I’m talking about the show/book release/reading for Ordinary Sparkling Moments by Christine Mason Miller which I had the exquisite honor of attending at Peach Tree Pottery this Sunday. An extraordinary adventure, each page of Ordinary Sparkling Moments is a piece of art—collage or photography or both—combined with delectable morsels of insight on what is gained, found, explored, and discovered when you are open to gaining, finding, exploring, and discovering the smallest of gems in every day.

I have been in love with Christine’s art since I first saw it at Peach Tree Studio while taking pottery classes from the studio’s owner and ceramic artist, Linda Mechanic. Her “Girls” series sucked me in, her “Winged” series made me a follower, and now Ordinary Sparkling Moments—from the book to the pottery to the jewelry to the art—has made me a believer.

A believer in me.

I was thrilled and moved to tears for Christine, so proud of her creative risks and creative accomplishments. I floated through the studio, falling under the spell of every piece and every message. I met her friends, Denise (a.k.a BoHo Girl) and Stacy (Bella Wish), beautiful women with inviting eyes and hearts to match. I got to hug and be hugged by my friends Linda and Ann, swirling eddies of smiles, laughter, and positivity (thanks, Prince, for that word). The studio filled with people moved to excitement. Then it was overflowing, literally and figuratively. In the thick of it all, I felt high. Heady. Like I had just shared a feast at a table surrounded by friends in a room with a roaring, hot fire in the fireplace and I was on my third glass of wine. I left the studio dreamy. Happy. And affected.

Back at home, the lingering effects of the experience took a toll on me and I languidly sat in my favorite chair and let time slip by. But I was far from being passive. Ideas, desires, dreams, and hopes came flying out of the corners of my mind and crannies of my soul. An enlightening cacophony of childhood and adult wants made themselves heard. A room full of lightly tested emotions dusted themselves off and stood at attention. I never doubted myself when, two years ago, I quit my 13-year career in Corporate American to pursue my creative passions…but I’m not sure I entirely believed in myself. Until today.

With the edge of Sunday hitting the horizon, I think I’m finally coming down, albeit slowly, from the euphoria of today’s adventure. And yet, it is only just beginning.

Is this a Joke?

Barb - Hope's Flame — Thu, 25 Sep 2008 22:18:00 GMT

It's painful for me to watch this, not because I feel bad for her, but because there's an actual chance she could be in the White House someday soon.

BTW: I have friends that live in International Falls, Minn., which is on the Canadian/U.S. boarder. Not one of them would ever claim to have foreign affairs expertise, despite living in the second busiest rail port-of-entry in the U.S. Just imagine the claims Palin would make had she been mayor of I-Falls!

There's a 15-second commercial you have to sit through before you get to the 1-min. clip but it's worth the wait.

Watch CBS Videos Online

Tina Fey for President

Barb - Hope's Flame — Tue, 16 Sep 2008 13:40:00 GMT

Gov. Palin and Senator Hillary Clinton address the nation. Enjoy.

The Wedding Gift I Don't Want to Give

Barb - Hope's Flame — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 18:49:00 GMT

Over a year ago, our very good friends Tamra and Ian got married. It was our first “California wedding,” meaning it was nothing like the weddings I had attended in Minnesota (and I suspect anywhere else in the Midwest!). The most obvious difference was that the ceremony was officiated by both a Buddhist priest and a Catholic priest. But it was the subtle differences that made the evening so enjoyable: the simple, elegant dress (no beads and crinoline here), the setting (outdoors in April in the backyard of a friend’s house high above the Rose Bowl), the food (Creole!), and the guests (friends of all ages, artists, gays, non-white folk, a real Irishman) just to name a few. All in all, it was a spectacular evening that I revisit in my mind many times over. And then smile.

Tamra and Ian are special friends. I love them dearly for their compassion, grace, and downright fun spirits. When I found out they were getting married, I began a quest to find a gift that would be symbolic of their relationship. In other words, I wanted something unique to remind them of their commitment to one another but also something functional and everyday, since that’s what a commitment toward another person is: an everyday, practical effort. I also knew I wanted to commission an artist to make something, because relationships are just that: made from nothing more than a desire or need to create a connection with the soul and then sketched, molded, and shaped into a piece of art.

So I began my search to find an artist to make a wedding gift. I had no idea what I wanted as a gift other than to use the Japanese woodblock design they had on their wedding invitation. I put a call out to artists on Etsy (“Your place to buy & sell all things handmade”) and was open to just about anything: putting the design on a tablecloth and napkins, etching it into wood to make a tray, using textiles to create a hanging piece or blanket, making a stained glass piece, etc. About a dozen artists responded to my request but nothing really stood out. Either I wasn’t satisfied with the artist’s portfolio or I didn’t like any ideas they had come up with. And then, just as I was about to give up on Etsy, I got an email from ceramist artist Laurel Begley. And life became good again.

Laurel said she would be able to put the design on a ceramic sushi set (which included a platter, two dishes, two sake cups, and two sauce dishes). I loved the idea. After checking out her portfolio of work, I was even more excited. And then after reading her story, I was thrilled. I was so impressed with everything—from her suggestions on how to use the design to her promptness in communicating with me to her reasonable prices—that I asked her to make two sets of sushi dishes instead of one.

And so she went to work.

I received my sushi sets in the mail a few days ago, two months (and one broken kiln) after Laurel and I first hammered out the details. It’s hard for me to describe my emotions when I opened the box and unwrapped the pieces from the bubble wrap. One by one, I placed each piece on the dinning room table. And when they were all displayed, I stood back and whispered breathlessly, to no one but myself, “Oh. My. God. They’re beautiful.”


One of the sushi sets.

Inscribed on the back of each platter.

For the next 20 minutes, I couldn’t stop touching and looking at them. I held each piece close to my heart. I turned them over and around and put them back down and picked them up. I arranged them in their two sets and then grouped them together by their function—the four sake glasses and four sauce dishes on one side, the two platters in the middle, the four plates on the other side. When Emmett came home from work and saw them, he was just as stunned by their beauty and quality. He returned to the table where I had them displayed over and over again throughout the evening. Like me, he couldn’t stop touching them. And that’s when, for a brief second, I didn’t want to give them away. I really, really didn’t. They are THAT cool.

Next week, Emmett and I are getting together with Tamra and Ian to give them their gift. I’m pretty sure I will give them both sets of sushi dishes. At the very least, they’ll get one of them. I think.

Signs You Know You're Back from Vacation

Barb - Hope's Flame — Mon, 08 Sep 2008 01:18:00 GMT

A big stack of vacation-clothes laundry awaits your attention.

A shirt filled with cat hair from endless hugging of your super cute, super sweet cat (and you don't mind it one bit).

The simplest dinner in your front yard never tasted so good.

You can't stop looking at this picture of your niece and nephew and saying, "Aren't they the cutest little buggers on the planet?! I miss them so much!"

You make room on your nightstand for the guidebook to your next vacation destination.

Passionate Food

Barb - Hope's Flame — Thu, 21 Aug 2008 17:14:00 GMT

As many of you know, my kitchen has become officially vegan. I can't tell you what this has done to my taste buds...and to me. I feel like I'm six-years-old again tasting everything new. Food, in all its shapes and forms (meals, snacks, treats, ingredients), has more flavor, more texture, more aroma, and, strangely, seems to burst with intense passion with every bite I take. Even though I had been vegetarian for years and years, cooking vegan at least half the time, this renewed conscious effort about what goes into my food, and ultimately into my body, has had a pleasantly surprising impact on my life. I feel more alive than I ever have before and I know a diet free from animals and animal byproducts has a lot to do with it. (BTW: did you know that 10 billion...yes, billion with a B...animals are killed each year for human consumption? And that doesn't include the animals killed by hunters, in research labs, by urban development, by careless people, or even fish. Ten billion. Every year. That's crazy, no matter how much you like your steak or chicken or hamburger or pork chop.)

One of the challenges of become a vegan, however, is that some of my favorite foods from Latin America are off limits to me because they are often cooked, baked, or stewed with animal parts. While it would be simple for me just to omit the lard, chorizo, carne asada, or pig ears a recipe calls for, there's a certain flavor that also goes missing when I do so...like when a friend of mine tried to make fresh lemonade with Splenda instead of real sugar. It's just not the same (and in that instance, it was just plain nasty). So as a vegan cook, you learn to creatively re-invent these types of dishes by paying particular attention to seasonings and spices in place of the meat. It's a delicate balance but when it's achieved, it's the Big O (as in "ooooh my goodness!").

And that's just what happened with this delicious recipe for Vegan Feijoada. Feijoada, the "national dish" of Brazil, was introduced to the country by black slaves. Think of it like the "soul food" of Latin America. Lots of black beans (and usually four or five different types of meat) stewed for hours making for a thick sauce that is slightly salty and a tad bit spicy. Feijoada is usually served with a side of rice and collard greens. With so much meat in the original recipe, I didn't think it was possible to make this dish vegan. How do you replicate that smoky, fatty flavor that comes from meat? The secret in this recipe: chipotle chili in adobo sauce and smoked tempeh. Feijoada recipes with meat in them don't call for the chipotle chili (and obviously not the smoked tempeh either) but it certainly brings the vegan version closest to the meat version, though I can't be totally sure of that since I've never had the meat version. In any case, this dish was so tasty, I just had to share.

The recipe for the Vegan Feijoada came from Vegetarian Times. And, by eliminating the meat and using canned beans, this vegan version only stews for 40 minutes instead of for the hours and hours the traditional recipe calls for. That means you get to sit down and devour this scrumptious dish before your meat-eating friends do!

	Vegan feijoada served with rice and a corn tortilla. Believe it or not, I wasn't in the mood for a caipirnha and had a delicious Cotes du Rhone red wine instead. It complemented the dish perfectly.
	A closer look at the vegan feijoada, which included garlic, parsley, chipotle chili, smoked tempeh, fresh thyme, celery, onion, and veggie broth.

This One's for Ann

Barb - Hope's Flame — Fri, 15 Aug 2008 15:56:00 GMT

I will post whenever I post and will feel good about it when I do.

Bread, No Butter

Barb - Hope's Flame — Wed, 06 Aug 2008 01:22:00 GMT

Well, I did it. I made my first batch of bread. From scratch. With my very own hands. And it was vegan too. Best part of it all: it turned out!

Learning to make bread was one of the very first things that popped into my head (and consequently the very first thing I wrote down) when I started to create my Do Tomorrow Different: The List. Why? I don’t know. It just was. So I went with it.

But it wasn’t the first thing I checked off The List. I borrowed a few bread-making cookbooks from the library earlier in the year but they weren’t very inspiring. It wasn’t until I was making a dish from the Enchanted Broccoli Forest cookbook a month ago that I noticed it had a bread section and really took an interest in making bread. That Mollie Katzen always has a way of making any food adventure seem easy and fun (it’s like having your own little cheerleader sitting on your shoulder rooting for you every step of the way). But what actually made me roll up my sleeves (literally) and try out a recipe were the folks over at Blossoming Lotus (a vegan restaurant in Kappa on the island of Kauai). Their cookbook, Vegan World Fusion Cuisine, is the BESTEST in the world. I thumb through it almost every day and it is a different experience every time. Your mood, the weather, your energy level, the day of the week, what you’ve eaten recently, and so much more all have an impact on how you perceive a recipe. So I keep my favorite cookbooks near me at all times and flip through them for inspiration. Some weeks we eat like royalty. Other times, I’m thankful for the folks at Trader Joe’s for making good hummus, having a nice selection of crackers, and always having those wonderful jalapeno-stuffed olives in stock.

Last week, I was making Blossoming Lotus’ Spicy Thai Noodles (soba noodles, toasted sesame oil, broccoli, garlic, red bell pepper, green onion, soy sauce, and cayenne pepper) and on the facing page was a recipe for Himalayan Stuffed Bread. The bread is made from a focaccia dough which is then stuffed with a simple yam mixture that includes jalapeno, onion, garlic, and coconut milk. And while it’s not a “pure” bread making experience in the sense that you don’t cut it up and make sandwiches with it, it’s close enough. I had to make the dough (with yeast!), knead it, let it rise, “thump” it, and let it rise again…and that combination of activities, my friends, counts as bread making.

Rolling out the dough.	Plopping down the yam filling.
Folding the sides around it.	And finishing it off.

Fresh out of the oven...Himalayan Stuffed Bread!

The entire process was such a delight. I’d even go so far as to say it was a high. The precious timing and tenderness required in some steps of bread making is offset by the physicality involved in other steps (kneading, punching, rolling). My greatest fear (the dough not rising) was never realized, and the final product—savory, light, textures both crisp and soft—was such a pleasant “mouthfeel” experience. (Yes, mouthfeel. It’s a real culinary term. Look it up.) I served my Himalayan Stuffed Bread with a coconut curry sauce (also from Blossoming Lotus’ cookbook) over the top. Fantastic. Emmett and I couldn’t decide if a red or white wine would go well with the meal so we had both. I still can’t tell you which one is better…they both worked wonderfully with the dish.

	The finished product with a little coconut curry sauce on top.
	A peek at what it looked like in the middle.

As an added bonus to this whole experience, I realized that the ingredients that go into bread are cheap and plentiful (who doesn’t have flour, salt, and water in the house?) so if I do f-up, it’s no big deal to start over. The only real expense of bread making is time. And I’ve got plenty of that.

1-800-SUICIDE

Barb - Hope's Flame — Mon, 30 Jun 2008 14:34:00 GMT

Because we've all been there...or know someone who has. Because I can only imagine what Bush would do with this information...or McCain. Because someone has to care...and does.

Check out HopeLine and PostSecret today.

Five, Six, Seven, Eight!

Barb - Hope's Flame — Thu, 05 Jun 2008 15:26:00 GMT

A Chorus Line has always been, and will always be, my favorite musical. Period.

I love other ones—the music in Aida was grand, I don't think I ever stopped smiling in Chicago, and Fosse...well, Fosse made me want to jump in and out of costumes, and characters, all day long.

But ever since I was little, it was A Chorus Line. Yes, I wanted to be a dancer (I think it's safe to say that almost every little girl wants to be one), but it was more than that. Even at a young age, I understood that you had two choices in life: you could take a chance and do what your heart and soul desired or you could go with the flow. One choice meant a life filled with the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. The other meant consistency. I easily empathized, and identified, with the dancers in A Chorus Line. I understood what they faced and felt...and I applauded them. I knew, at age 10 or 11 or however old I was when I first saw the show, I didn't have the guts to do it—to take on rejection, be judged, fail to make it in the eyes of others—just to pursue a dream and do something outside the "norm." I wanted to. I really, really wanted to. But I didn't know how. I didn't know how to go for it and I didn't know how to deal with it. So I rooted for those that could (and did)...from the comfort of my assigned seat in the audience.

My Granny took me to see A Chorus Line at the Orpheum in downtown Minneapolis. I'm not sure exactly how old I was but I wasn't old enough to know what gonorrhea, boob jobs, or homosexuality were...or care enough to ask. It was my first real theater experience and I loved every second of it. And I know Granny loved it too. I remember her getting a kick out of the "Tits and Ass" song. I could literally feel her joy as she laughed her unique laugh throughout the number. (To this day, when my brother perfectly imitates her laugh, it takes me back to that moment.) And I remember the feeling I had when the show was over and the side doors of the theater, which deposited patrons directly onto the sidewalk, were thrown wide open. Granny must have taken me to a matinée because as we left the natural darkness of the theater and stepped outside, I was shocked by the brightness of the natural light, even on a gray, Minnesota-winter afternoon, and was forced to shield my eyes, still wide in awe over the experience. But in my blindness, I was giddy. I wanted to run up and down the sidewalk and tell passersby what a brilliant show it was, what an experience it was, and how lucky and special I felt to have had my Granny right there beside me. At that time, I didn't know why it was so special that Granny had taken me. But I knew it was.

Last night I was giddy again. Hopping up and down like the little girl I was more than 25 years ago, I had that same damn happy feeling as I walked into the Ahmanson Theatre in downtown L.A. to see A Chorus Line once again. This time I was with my hubby, Emmett, and our friends, Kelly and Bill. From the second Zach shouted, "Five, six, seven, eight," lights bursting on, dancers—all legs and arms and personality—filling the stage…to the last sparkly, glittery-gold number—all lights and mirrors and tightly performed steps in perfect unison—I was flooded with memory and emotion. Words to songs I never knew I knew came out of me number by number. Dancers whose names I had long forgotten rolled off the tip of my tongue as each made their way on stage and I whispered into Emmett's ear what I liked and didn't like about their character. And when I walked out of that theater at the end of the show, the faux darkness that comes with urban life was a sharp contrast to the pure glow and warmth within me. Who cares if the actor playing Zach sucked. Who cares if the Ahmanson Theater's decor was bland compared to that of the glamorous Orpheum. Who cares if, in our group of four, only Bill and I were oozing orgasmic pleasure, quoting line after line, jumping in and around and through the stories of the 17 dancers. He was just as in love with the concept of A Chorus Line as I. It was almost like having Granny right there with me. Almost. Except this time, I knew what gonorrhea, boob jobs, and homosexuality were...but I still didn't care enough to care.

I don’t know what Granny told her friends about our Chorus Line experience. I'm not sure what she would have written in her journal, had she had one, or blog, had it been invented yet. But as we walked to the bus stop after the show, my hand firmly yet tenderly held by hers, I know this: people PARTED for us. Like Moses and the Red Sea. When we walked by, they stepped aside. They moved out of our way. Some even took a look back over their shoulder as we passed. We didn't duck or dodge or maneuver our way through the crowd like we normally did. We walked. Straight. Like we were stepping up to the line. With nothing and no one in our way. It was, indeed, one singular sensation.

Circle Journey

Barb - Hope's Flame — Wed, 28 May 2008 14:23:00 GMT

I like to send mail to people. I mean REAL mail. Like a handwritten note on a cool card (or sometimes a postcard) in a nice envelope with a stamp specifically chosen for that person/card/message and sometimes a quote sticker on the envelope flap. I send so many cards that I began a "card log" where I write down what card I sent to whom and with what message. I know...a little OC. But I don't want someone to get the same card twice or, even worse, the same message MORE than twice.

It is a rare occasion that I am at a loss for words (all my friends out there can stop laughing now). Usually when I want to send a card to someone, I can sit down at my special writing desk (reserved JUST for writing cards) and have no problem picking out a card and writing a quick note to that person. The one exception to that rule is my mom.

My mom and I talk on the phone quite a bit and email each other often. And since I spent a good nine months living IN her (not to mention 20+ years or so living WITH her) and we share some of the same genes, we have that weird "connection" thing going on. You know what I'm talking about...that "hey, I was just going to call you" thing. So when I sit down to write her a note, I'm sometimes stuck. What am I going to say to her that I'm not going to talk to her about on the phone later tonight or write to her in one of the two or five or dozen emails we send each other throughout the day? And yet, I want to send her SOMETHING. But it can't just be ANYTHING. She is, after all, my mom.

Enter Circle Journey.

I can't remember how or when I discovered Circle Journey but somehow it made its way into my life. Think of Circle Journey as a mini journal or photo album or multi-page card or sketch pad that you pass back and forth through the mail. One moment I have it. Then I write or draw or glue or whatever in it and then I send it to my mom. Then she writes or draws or glues or whatever in it and sends it back to me. And then we do it again. And then again. And then again.

	"Cup of Conversation" is the name of our Circle Journey book.
	Starting fresh, starting new. Whatever we want to do. Two pages each and every time. With nothing to limit us...not even lines! A full spread for you and a full spread for me. A full book of our creativity!
	"Finished" entry: photos, lists, comments, observations...just random bursts of fun.

What I like about our Circle Journey is that it doesn't have to make sense (which is good because neither of us is known for making much sense anyway). It is not about context. It isn't even really about "keeping in touch" since we do that already. It is just whatever we want to do or say or show at the time. Sometimes weeks go by before it gets passed on. Sometimes months. It doesn't matter. It's like a game of tag without all the running around (which is also good because my mom runs marathons and participates in half triathlons and she'd kick my butt in a real game of tag). The point is to share. The point is to receive something special in the mail. The point is to have fun. The point is the journey and the circle.

I have two more Circle Journey books sitting on my writing desk...just waiting for the right person (or persons) to send it to. Anyone up for a little tag?

Making Books

Barb - Hope's Flame — Tue, 20 May 2008 20:04:00 GMT

A few months ago I ordered How to Make Books by Esther K. Smith from Purgatory Pie Press. It was a spur-of-the-moment purchase...something very rare for me to do. But the picture and description of it was so beautiful and the review on SuperNaturale was tantalizing so I took the leap and bought it.

When the book arrived in my mailbox, I was thrilled. I fell in love with it immediately, kept it by my bed, fondled it almost every night for a week, and then, for whatever reason, tucked it away and didn't pull it back out again until now, several months later. Actually, I can list two reasons why I did this. First, because it really was such a gorgeous book, I didn't want to "break it," "get it dirty," or in any other way destroy it. How ridiculous is that? It wasn't like I was planning on taking it mud wrestling or using it as fuel to help the U.S. Forest Service with one of their "controlled burns." But I didn't want to take a chance. I mean, we were, after all, coming into "controlled burn" season here in California. The second reason is because, quite honestly, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to follow the instructions and instead of ending up with a cool looking, handmade book, I'd end up with a dorky looking and rather useless attempt at a handmade book. How ridiculous is that? I have always had the dream of making my own book. Not just writing a book (I want to do that too) but actually making it...folding, stitching, letterpressing (is that a word?), and all. If I was going to ever fulfill that dream, I was going to have to actually MAKE a FIRST book...and not just stare at a book with other people's handmade books in them (though that is quite fulfilling too).

So I grabbed a couple of catalogs from my junk mail recycling bag and began tearing out sheets for my first project, the "Instant Book." "Instant" is a bit misleading, in my professional opinion. As you can see from the picture at the right, I didn't quite get the hang of the folding and the manipulating and the cutting at first. But once I did, there was no stopping me. Then I moved on to the Accordion Book and mastered all three versions. Then I went on a bender and made all sorts of Instant and Accordion Books in a variety of shapes and sizes (long, wide, short, tall, with extra big paper and super small paper). I even tried it with my eyes closed (easy to do with the Instant Book...not so much with the Accordion Book). And then finally, in some weird state of mind, I "practiced" how I would teach Madison and Brady (my niece and nephew) how to make these books. I literally spoke out loud, offering praise and guidance, as if they were right there next to me. I couldn't help myself. Making these things is like magic and who better to impress with magic than a 6- and almost 3-year old? I can't wait to show them how to do it for real, in person and not in my head.

	*My first "Instant Book"*

I'm unstoppable now! Books, books everywhere!

Now, with Chapters One and Two under my belt, and momentum on my side, I'm venturing into Chapter Three: Stab and Stitch (a.k.a Japanese binding...though there will be no feet involved). I'm going to have to buy a tool or two (or four) for this one (who has an awl, a bone folder, a large needle, and some wax thread just lying around...besides Esther K. Smith?). But just going out to buy them is going to be a unique experience (and a blast) in and of itself. I'm looking forward to it.

I hope to have my first book, published with my own hands, out by the end of the year. It is going to be a Christmas gift to me, from me. Personally, I can't think of a better recipient!

If you're interested in ordering How to Make Books, I encourage you to buy it directly from Purgatory Pie Press. You'll get an autographed copy (by Esther K. Smith, the author, and Dikko Faust who handset and letterpressed the cover and chapter headings) and you'll be supporting a small, independent press that has an amazing portfolio.

As a side note to my friends in Minnesota, I recommend visiting/checking out the Minnesota Center for Book Arts. I discovered this wonderful place and its fantastic exhibits, special events, and classes just a few short months before moving to California. I remember thinking, as I stepped through their doors the very first time, "Great, just as I'm leaving Minnesota, I find heaven." I plan on visiting the Center the next time I come back home for a visit (probably in August). Anyone is welcome to join me!

Just a Cool Pic

Barb - Hope's Flame — Tue, 20 May 2008 18:30:00 GMT

I snapped this picture on the way back from our friend Kelly's surprise 40th birthday party in Hollywood. It was around midnight and Emmett was driving my car on the 110. We had the top down (or, as my niece would say, "lid off"). There was an almost-full moon. It was a warm evening (after triple-digit temps during the day) and it was very clear (no marine layer or fog). It was a perfect evening for driving the convertible around LA. We could have driven around for hours, except for the fact that we were both REALLY tired and ready for bed!

Anyway, I just really liked this picture and thought I'd share. Enjoy!

I heart Hiking in LA

Barb - Hope's Flame — Thu, 15 May 2008 15:40:00 GMT

One of the best things about living in Southern California is you can be surrounded by 18 million neighbors one minute and the next, be on top of the world all by your lonesome. Specifically, I'm talking about the San Gabriel Mountains in the Angeles National Forest.

Emmett and I ventured out last Sunday and tackled the Icehouse Canyon/Icehouse Saddle/Chapman Trail hike (9 miles round trip), which we've done once before. Located in the Mount Baldy area, it is, perhaps, my favorite hike in the San Gabriels. I love the challenge (at one point on the trail you climb 2600 feet in 3.5 miles...ouch!) and I love the surroundings (pine, cedar, oak, sycamore, towering canyon walls, huge boulders, rivers and waterfalls, snow, glorious and colorful birds, wildflowers, views, views, views). I also love the idea that I am hiking on a huge chunk of the earth's crust. The San Gabriel Mountains are "young" in a geological sense. It's my understanding that they are "only" 10 million to 12 million years old (makes my paltry 37 years on this planet seem like nutin’ but a hiccup, if even that) and were formed when two plates came head-to-head like a couple of male rams head butting it out over a lady ram. I may be totally misinformed about this but who cares...I like the story so I'm sticking with it. The trail is well established but it definitely feels like you're walking on stuff belched from the gut of the earth...tons of rocks that have either been deposited by torrential floods in years past or that have slid down the ever-changing mountain top and sides or risen up from the underbelly. Gotta love a mountain with attitude.

Here's a little pictorial stroll through our day (in no particular order):

	I love, love, love Our Lord's Candle when it is in bloom. The flowers are gorgeous and creamy and it smells like jasmine. For a plant that is so HUGE and emerging from evil spiky things at the base, it is so delicate and precious to behold when in bloom.
	The view back down Icehouse Canyon from the top of Champman Trail. Mt. Baldy is just out of the frame on the right.
	The super cool Cedar Canyon shot in sepia tone...just to emphasize the dramatic beautiful of this little flat.
	Columbine in bloom.
	EJD on the Icehouse Canyon trail up to Icehouse Saddle. The trail got its name because there used to be an ice factory at the base of the canyon in the 1860s which provided ice to residents living in the valley.
	You never know what you're going to find on the trail. Especially in LA. In this case, it was llamas. There are a few old cabins (with electricity but not sewer) still remaining at the base of the canyon and they use llamas to transport stuff. Crazy. Who would have thought we would be sharing the trail with llamas? They were pretty cool to watch as they gracefully maneuvered the rocks and trail. But what I really wanted to do was make those two people carry the crap they were making the llamas carry. That's just mean. Poor llamas.

	Me lovey the blooms on the Our Lord's Candle.
	Another little surprise we ran into on the trail. Well, it wasn't that little, and, considering it's that time of the year when they are coming out of hibernation, not so much a surprise either. This rattlesnake was almost four feet long. She was a beauty. And we got the extra pleasure of watching her slide and wind (and what seemed like skating on ice) across the trial as she looked for a nice rock on the other side to sun herself on.
	Walking on the what the earth spit up...rocks from the aftermath of a head-on collision between plates over 10 million years ago. Seriously, how cool is that?!
	Looking up from Champman Trail.
	The view from our lunch spot at Icehouse Saddle.

Give Me Five!

Barb - Hope's Flame — Wed, 14 May 2008 20:38:00 GMT

Not to toot my own horn (or casually use the word "toot" after my recent two postings on beans), but I just posted one of the most fun writing assignments I've done yet for my other project, Dually Noted (and we've done a lot of fun stuff on that site!). I encourage you (and would warmly welcome you as well) to not only check it out, but also take a stab at it yourself.

Rancho Gordo - Saltistry Update

Barb - Hope's Flame — Tue, 13 May 2008 13:31:00 GMT

Update to yesterday's comments about pairing Rancho Gordo Ojo do Cabra beans with Saltistry infused sea salts:

Emmett's favorite: Lime Flake Salt
Barb's favorite: Smoked Chili Salt

Worthy of a try: Lemon Thyme Salt

Thanks for playing but you're not a winner: Six Pepper Salt (the great flavor of this salt just got lost in the earthiness of the beans).

Also note: Saltistry no longer sells the seven-salt sampler that I ordered a few months ago. They now have a variety of five-salt samplers, which is totally cool...especially considering the price (only $18/each). My only complaint is that there is overlap in samplers...so you end up with some of the same salts. For example, both their Classic Sampler and their Harvest Sampler includes Lemon Thyme Salt. It's not a deal breaker for me (I just ordered two of the new sampler sets as a birthday gift for a friend) but it makes it a bit of a challenge in actually accomplishing the "sampler" part of the deal.

Rancho Gordo, meet Saltistry. Saltistry, meet Rancho Gordo

Barb - Hope's Flame — Mon, 12 May 2008 23:39:00 GMT

I mentioned a few days ago about my recent Ranch Gordo purchase (heirloom beans). The beans are beautiful and I don't have the heart to put them away in my pantry yet so they sit out, on full display, on my kitchen counter. When I pass by them (which is like a billion times a day), I pick up one of the bags and sigh with great admiration (and perhaps a little love). I'm telling you, I never quite understood the big deal about beans but I'm definitely an admirer now! Lovely little buggers, they are! (I think I can now say, officially, that I'm a kitchen geek.)

So Saturday night as Emmett and I were discussing plans for our hike the next day, I told him I was going to make the Ojo de Cabra beans. Our hike was going to be a tough one and I knew I'd come back physically exhausted. Plus, the drive to the trailhead was going to take about an hour on the 210. When the 210 became almost as evil as the 405, I'm not sure. But I hate it. So in addition to coming back spent, I will have accumulated much more time than I would like to on a Southern California freeway on a Sunday afternoon. Needless to say, I was looking for an easy meal.

Come on...you have to admit these Ojo de Cabra (goat's eye) beans are beautiful!

According to Rancho Gordo, all you have to do with his beans is throw them in your slow cooker with a little water and maybe some onions sautéed in (gulp) lard, set the slow cooker on high in the morning and then come back in the evening for a delightful experience with cooked beans. And that's exactly what I did. Sort of. There was no lard involved (I used canola oil instead) and in addition to the onions, I also sautéed a little serrano pepper (I had an extra one sitting around...jalapeno would be fine too).

The lovely Ojo de Cabra beans with onion and serrano pepper in my blue-walled crockpot (who would have thought a crockpot could be so pretty?)

My plan was simple: the beans, corn tortillas, and a salad with a lime-ginger vinaigrette. Oh, and a very nice Pinot Grigio too.

Rancho Gordo is right: his beans are wonderful on their own. I could have eaten the whole pot by itself. They were so full of flavor and their texture was out of this world. Lovely. Simply lovely. Amazing really, if you think about it. It's just beans. And yet, so much more!

After my first bowl of "just beans" (pushed onto my spoon with a corn tortilla, of course), I served up my second bowl topped with heirloom tomatoes from the Farmer's Market and fresh avocado. Just as delightful. For me, there is nothing more beautiful than a simple dish that allows crisp, distinct flavors to dance with your taste buds. I think too many people, especially when cooking at home, feel that the more complicated the dish, the more spices and ingredients they can combine, the better. We've forgotten the pure joy, and powerfulness, of simplicity (not just in the kitchen, but in other areas of our lives as well).

Emmett gets ready to enjoy the simple pleasures of "just beans."

With this in mind, I was fully enjoying the last bean in my bowl (that sounds like a cool name for a ska band...Last Bean in My Bowl...doesn't it?!) when I remembered another little delightful treasure I had bought (and blogged about) a while back: infused salt from Saltistry.

Back to the crockpot for a third time, I ladled up one more scoop of beans and then turned to my Saltistry Sampler package. With seven different infused salts to choose from, I thought it was going to be a tough decision to make. But it wasn't. When my eyes hit the Smoked Chili Salt, I dove in. (FYI: the Smoked Chili Salt is AWESOME on scrambled eggs too.)

With the Rancho Gordo beans decorated with a little Saltistry salt, I brought the spoon to my mouth. Oh my. There was some serious some dancing going on. OUTSTANDING. Hands down, my favorite combination. (Sorry, no picture here. I was too busy eating...and eating and eating and eating!)

Emmett just called to let me know he'll be home for dinner tonight. I plan on making the salad again (which was wonderful as well...I'll have to share the recipe in another blog entry) and having the last of the beans. This time, I'm putting out all seven of the infused salts I have from Saltistry...and we're going to mix and sample and discuss and rate and, most importantly, enjoy all the flavors...one at a time. Oh, and have fun doing it too.

I did it! I got the Diana+!!!!

Barb - Hope's Flame — Fri, 09 May 2008 18:39:00 GMT

I've been eying this camera for a while. A long while. And I finally broke down and bought it when I was at the Getty Center a couple of weeks ago with my neighbor (btw: the new outdoor sculpture garden is totally awesome). The Diana+ has been on The List and I'm thrilled to be able to check it off. Now comes the real fun part: what to shoot.

I have a few project ideas in mind but nothing that really rocks my world right now. Plus, I want to play with the camera a bit and see what it can do. It takes 120 film (should I get B&W, color negative, slide??) that shoots either 12 or 16 pictures (depending on the size you set). It's got a variable shutter (I can hold it open for as long as I want...night shots, here I come!) AND it's got a pinhole setting. How cool is that? So I plan on practicing with it first, then diving into a super cool project (preferably a writing/photo one)...if anyone has any suggestions, let me know. Like I said, I have a few ideas in mind but nothing that's making me tingle at the moment. You can check out this cool Diana+ photo gallery for inspiration and to get an idea of what she can do. I'll be thumbing through the book below, which came with my Diana+ (and weighs about 10 times more than the Diana+ herself).

I plan on posting my practice shots so check back in a week or so and see what I've done.