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Colors of the Fall…
Birches. Watercolor. September 19, 2020.

Happy Fall!

Is it “oh my God” or “Finally?”

How has your summer been?

Mine was a summer that wasn’t, between the lockdown on international flights and non-stop fulltime teaching plus fulltime academic duties. More work, adjustments, screentime and zoomed/voiced out feelings than i care to admit.

Still, there is gratitude for being able to work, pride in the results achieved with colleagues this summer, and beautiful moments of connections with my students, as we thankfully learn, adapt and evolve to communicate solely through these new media. It was a summer of intense learning, yet the curve was gentler than in the terrible Spring.

The closeness of the human voice substitutes the immediacy of vision – and this whole business of teaching and working remotely is getting a little less painful/ more bearable.

Have patience. All things are difficult before they become easy.

Saadi of Shiraz, Persian Poet, 1210

We are learning, fast, multiple new ways to transmit knowledge, of being there for someone, new ways to stay present, engaging and caring. We are growing and expanding- and this growth will stay with us even when “things return to normal”…whenever and whatever that is. I’m thankful for the enormous adaptability we possess as human beings.

Voyages – Collage June 2020

With more Covid-related uncertainty, rightful continued political protests and unrest against police brutality and killings in the U.S, waves of closures and reopenings here in San Diego, the California/ West Coast fires, alarming news from Lebanon, immense trepidation for the upcoming U.S elections –and these are just the top things that come to mind – the summer of 2020 continued the general trend of this year’s suckiness (yes I just used that term) and moments of poignant glory.

(just added, since drafting this on the first day of Fall, the passing of the indomitable US Supreme Court Judge Ruth Bader Ginsburg, a tremendous loss and the terrifying prospect of trump nominating a third judge to the highest court of the land, with multigenerational repercussions)

—- b. r. e. a. t. h. e. —

Protesting in the streets of San Diego after the killing of George Floyd at the hands of the state. Black Lives Matter ✊🏿 – and that’s just a start. June 2020

Personally, there was heartbreak and loss, hope, and gentle local travel in my beautiful state of California and the West Coast.

Endings and beginnings.

Graphite and Derwent Inktense pencils on paper. August 2020

As ever, the lovely friends and helpful spirits, old and new, God /Universe put in my path —along with a renewed spiritual practice— saved the day.

San Clemente Pier, California. August 2020.

I hope you were able to find moments of peace and beauty in the storms of your life, the nation.. the world. I hope you my readers found oases of joy in nature, friends, loved ones, cooking, yoga, joyful movement….art and spiritual practices. Time for yourself, to learn from solitude and silence. I hope, more than ever, you are taking better care of yourselves physically, mentally, spiritually and emotionally – for we are asked to function normally- and, some of us, to work even more, while there is a war going on.

The Surface and the Deep. Watercolor. July 2020.

“When under, remember the surface. When on the surface, remember the deep”. When our days are turbulent and troubled, our challenge is to remember the wave is not the sea. Though it pounds us, the pounding will pass. Though it tosses us about, the tossing will pass, if we don’t fight it. Often our fear misleads us to stay in close to shore, when the safest place is in the deep, if we can get there. Any swimmer knows: stay too close to shore and you will be battered by the surf and undertow. We must swim out past the breakers if we are to know the hammock of the deep. Stay on the land or make it to the deep. It is the in-between that kills.” 

Mark Nepo, The Book of Awakening.

I, ever the optimist, even started a running list of “silver linings” which resulted from this uncertain 2020.

Art will save us. Setup for my watercolor classes. One of the good things to come out of this year is my return to art, in form of art classes, and now I can join anywhere in the world, since everything is online!
My first watercolor with Escuela Alda con Limón in Madrid. My teacher was Ana Grasset. An attempt at a monochromatic studies when I still could not tell the difference in my Kuretake Japanese watercolor pans.
Second watercolor with Escuela Alda con Limón in Madrid – Ana Grasset’s workshop.

Six months into the new reality, and with a full collection of artful masks to wear each day before I step outside —and to remind me of our strange time —these are things I know for sure:

Image from lolomercadito.com

I know right now the good is even better because we all stopped taking things for granted months ago.

Rumi

I know the Global Pause ( as a colleague called it) is a chance for all of us to reassess the “ busyness” a lot of us identified with — and perhaps were distracted by. I know this is a chance for all of us to go deeper, to interiorize, and find the center of calm and stillness inside of us. This is life changing.

Watercolor of my favorite tree and remnants of my “Drawing with scissors: Matisse” workshop with the London Drawing Group. September 29, 2020.
Watercolor class with Juan Saturio {take 1} from Escuela Alda con Limón in Madrid. I want to try this again as my street got too dark/muddy ( a danger with watercolors). I think even my imperfect children need to be shown.

I know that the work of lightworkers is needed more than ever, and these times ask each of us to lighten the load of our fellow human beings, in however capacity we can do this. Be a light and help to a neighbor, an elderly acquaintance, a friend you lost track of. We can take this time and insulate ourselves or we can greet our better selves at the end of this surreal journey.

Watercolor experiments in light. September 29, 2020.

Finally, I know and can vouch for the healing power of movement and Nature. Move that body! Move that body everyday, walk or run among trees or by the ocean. Exercise in the fresh air to revive your mind and minimize the dreaded screen time. Open your windows wide ( if there are no fires around that is ..) Make sure you move everyday at least one hour to combat fatigue, depression and what in Italian we call abbrutimento ( degradation, brutalization) which comes from never leaving your home. Challenge yourself to go to different nature spots, to give your eyes something new to look at, and revive your spirit. Rumi also said the soul needs to travel as much as the feet. Daily loving movement, as the FlyLady calls it, is the foremost way we can help our body feel better- and when we feel better we can be better to those around us. Do anything you can not to go default.

The pier in San Clemente beach, which has been my refuge in this strange summer 2020. August 2020.

This summer I managed to steal moments of beauty and time for mini-art and writing retreats in long weekends spent in the beautiful “Spanish village by the Sea” San Clemente, California.

Drawing Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica, California. June 2020.

In June I ran away to Santa Monica.

The Music Experience Project by Frank Gehry, Seattle. Graphite and watercolor. July 2020.

There was a brief visit, right before the 4th of July weekend, to a subdued Seattle. The architecture was galvanizing.. and it was so healing for me to give my eyes different views to see, after months of lockdown in San Diego. I visited the Autonomous Zone there and stood in front of menacing police in riot gears . Of course I will share my photo-dossiers of these escapes of mine. All in good time.

This summer I took A LOT of art classes online to stay sane and “force” myself to show up to my art practice. I am on a journey to develop an authentic contribution and I am exploring a lot of techniques and art workshops to find my voice amongst the languages of art. There is a lot of experimenting… right now I’m more sure of what is “ not me” than what is… but the experience is filled with light and play. There is discipline, too.

I hope you are able to follow me and my progress on Instagram, at least unti I develop the practice to post and write here before going for the insta-fix. Below samples of the art exercises I completed and the outcome from the Summer art classes I attended.

Delicate. Five minute collage, following the method of Crystal Marie Neubauer. Mixed Media. May 2020.
The Road Home. Five minute collage. Mixed Media. May 2020.
Ombre watercolor class with Jennifer Evans, of Periwinkle Studio. July 2020.
Abstract watercolor class with Jennifer Evans of Periwinkle Studio. July 2020
Gaillardia watercolor class with Jennifer Evans of Periwinkle Studio.
Fall Bouquet watercolor workshop with Jennifer Evans of Periwinkle Studio.
She Rests. Five minute collage. Mixed Media. August 2020.
Letters to Love. Five minute collage. Mixed Media. August 2020.
Love is Fragile. Five minute collage. Mixed Media. August 2020.
Abstract watercolor class with Jennifer Evans of Periwinkle studio. September 2020

What else? I finally started a morning journaling practice centered on my art development, and came up with with my approach to life and art, in the form of the French word “doucement”- softly, sweetly. How to bring a quality of luminosity to everything I am, everything I do?

“Drawing with Scissors: Matisse” course with London Drawing Group. August 2020. This involved cutting figures and shapes freehand on sheets of tissue papers( no drawing beforehand).
“Drawing with Scissors: Matisse” class with London Drawing Group. August 2020.
“Drawing with Scissors: Matisse” class with London Drawing Group. August 2020.

I watched a film that still echoes, Bright Star, on the Romantic Poet John Keats, started rereading Art & Fear and am finally, systematically, going through my possessions and purging with Marie Kondo’s book.

I know I have said this for years but it took been grounded for a whole summer to finally tackle this.

Postcards from Japan. A collage inspired by the Vintage Collage class by Jennifer Evans of Periwinkle Studio.

Until next time, be well!

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The Feast of the Redeemer (or Festa del Redentore) is one of the most important Holy days for Venetians. For one day the whole Basin of San Marco is transformed into an immense piazza/party with hundreds of boats and revelers enjoying dinner on the water and waiting for sunset. The religious day is held the third Sunday in July, and chronicled here is the day before.. the secular fête. I had seen a painting of Tintoretto depicting the yearly ceremony of the City of Venice’s marriage to the Sea.. and when my cousin, who is from nearby Mestre, told me he was invited to the Feast I suspected it would be a once-in-a lifetime occasion, and I begged him to let me tag along.

At night, beautiful fireworks light up the already dreamlike city of Venice. It is a dream within a dream ( lucid Venice) .. just like the hallucinatory Carnevale.

This tradition was started in medieval Venezia, in 1576, when a Feast was planned to celebrate the end of a particularly disastrous Plague (Venice suffered many) which killed more than 50,000. The painter Titian was amongst the perished. None other than Andrea Palladio was commissioned to build the Church of the Redentore, which was completed in 1576.

The Doge ( the Venetian ruler of the Imperial Serenissima) would walk on a bridge made of barges from Le Zattere area of Venice to the Redeemer Church each year.

There is no way that a camera, let alone a phone ( with, what I suspect a wet lens) on a moving boat could capture what the Redentore is, being surrounded by thousands underneath the summer night skies, all in love and in awe of one city. The energy of seeing a people dancing and celebrating on a sea of boats was awe-inducing ….but here I offer some impressions, pale comparisons to the live Lady at Night.

Just as wonderful as the Feast and the fireworks, was the ride through Canal Grande to admire nocturnal Venice. The Canal is only open to boats without resident permits once a year: on the day of the Festa del Redentore.

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The French poet Paul Valéry said that all things are generated from an interruption. I learned this from my favorite Italian thinker, Alessandro Baricco, here in en español, whose lectures – to be found only in Italian – I listen to to learn about literature, writing, and life.

There were many interruptions this year, and not just personal. I can think of the devastating Hurricane Irma in my beloved, beautiful Puerto Rico, or the September 19 earthquake in my favorite city this side of the Atlantic, Ciudad De México – which occurred on the 32nd Anniversary of an earthquake that killed more that 10.000 people.

My personal earthquake and hurricane happened on August 21 of this year, when my dad passed away. I can now finally begin to write this sentence, and about it, without being swallowed up in the chasm that this loss left in my life. I know his spirit went back to his sea, where he returned, and I feel he is near, both inside my heart and dancing around in freedom and light. I like to think I can take him with me wherever I go now, and share my life in a more immediate way. I like to think his energy was transformed into waves of the sea. The sea can hug you, yet you can’t hug the sea, his immensity. I like to think he is in a butterfly, sometimes in a song. A friend of mine wrote “I heard your dad went back to the Universe”. I like that.

My dad loved the Old Man and The Sea, drawing boats and fish, Jonathan Seagull, reading, Venice, watching documentaries on nature, fishing, and working on his boat. He loved his friends and he loved me. He is the reason art is in my life. He is the reason I read One Hundred Years of Solitude in middle school (I used to raid the books of his youth unbeknownst to both my parents). It became my favorite book, it still is, and magical realism, anarchy and arcane literary worlds shaped who I am.

I thought about coming back to SketchBloom with a post on Van Gogh, and the film Loving Vincent, which I saw this month. The movie reminded me of my dad, of his love of painting, his simple bedroom , and his fisherman shack on the beach, La Baracca Del Bucaniere, which he lovely composed for the last ten years of his life here on the Earth school.

That post is in the pipeline, and I took new photos of his sculpture when I was last in Calabria –  but I wanted to return with a sketch, a return to art.

I just got back from Mexico (that is how the locals call it, Mexico…no need to use “Ciudad de”) yesterday, where I finally got over my protracted artist’s block.

Here, a simple sketch (above) and some photos/vignettes/stories I bring back from my trip.

Walking in Coyoacán – Frida’s neighborhood:

Scenes from Roma, one of the neighborhoods of DF:

This is Barba Azul, a cabaret from another era, where salsa is danced from midnight till dawn, where there is an altar upstairs (I have seen them in parking lots, too) and where the exit is a tiny rectangle carved into a decorated garage door- something out Pinocchio’s Paese dei Balocchi (toyland)…or a circus in a Fellini movie. One of the many surreal vignettes of this metropolis.

Unfortunately I could not take a better photo of it (with the usher emerging!) but it is on my list for next time. I also learned about the ficheras , the ladies of the establishment who sell a dance for a token (and more, at their discretion).

The obligatory photo of the Palacio De Bellas Artes, November 2017 version:

Where I had the chance to see Diego Rivera’s murals…

…and learn about the Rojo Mexicano (the red pigment from cochinilla bugs found inside the cactus fruits in Oaxaca, which was utilized in paintings around the world from the XV Century to the XIX) and see Van Gogh’s Bedroom At Arles with my own eyes (!!!).

I also visited Cuernavaca, La Ciudad de la Eterna Primavera (The City of the Eternal Spring), where i completed my yearly self-evaluation for #work in a garden within Jardines de Mexico, surrounded by butterflies. Talk about INSPIRING.

Italian Garden at Jardines De Mexico (my favorite, obv)

In Cuernavaca, I stayed in a copy of Unité d’Habitacion (but if you follow me on Instagram you already know this).

I want to close with a poem by Octavio Paz — who is considered the greatest Mexican poet and thinker — and, of course, was a native of Mexico City.

This is his poem Hablo de la Ciudad | I Speak of the City. Below the text in the original Spanish and the translation in English.

This poem perfectly encapsulates what Mexico City is. I have more posts on La Ciudad to craft, from my previous visits, and more poetry- but this shall suffice for tonight.

Here is to more gentle earthquakes and hurricanes in 2018, inner ones to bring soul renewals, and to a kinder year.

For the Aztecs, this was the bellybutton of the Moon.

Nos vemos pronto, Tenochtitlán.

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The Prophet described iman, or faith, as such: “Faith is to acknowledge with the heart, to voice with the tongue, and to act with the limbs,” (Chittick 6).

This outlines the hierarchy of bodily domains that human beings consist of: the heart, signifying innermost awareness; the tongue which articulates and expresses; and one’s limbs, the source of action.

The art of poetry incorporates all three of these, for one cannot compose a poem without the cognizance of the heart, the use of speech or the physical use of limbs to write out the words.

Poetry channels the three spheres of the body so that awareness, thought and activity fuse to create one product.

Beyond Words: Chronicling Spiritual Ecstasy and Experience in Sufi Poetry

Kate Van Brocklin 

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Yesterday I was lucky enough to visit the old section of the town of Vittorio Veneto, in the region of Veneto, in Northeastern Italy. Present-day Vittorio Veneto is the result of the fusion of the municipalities of Ceneda and Serravalle after WWI. 
The photos below are of the old Jewish ghetto of Ceneda, and the centro ( center or downtown) with its villas, park and piazzetta ( small piazza). 


The Church pictured just below was a surprising find: it is the oldest churchsite I have ever visited, and dates from the IV century (!!!).  The Church you see was rebuilt in 1400, a millennium after the first structure was erected. The timing boggles the mind: in 313 CE Constantine declared Christianity the official religion of the Roman Empire with the Edict of Milan, and on this site a church was built shortly thereafter. 



Serravalle, like Treviso, the regional center of the prosperous region of Veneto, features frescoes on the façades of buildings. This is something fascinating that I learned during this trip (from my mom, who is from Treviso) Frescoes in Serravalle- a town of Roman origin-were not just relegated to the interior of churches, but graced the buildings’ street elevations and were painted by notable local artists. Most of the palazzi date from the 1400’s. What was depicted on them? Hard to say from what remains in Serravalle. I could discern some courtly scenes  and patterns/coat of arms. Both here and in Treviso, the frescoes were plastered over during one of the bouts of the Plague, in a misguided effort to ‘disinfect’ homes. 

One of the photos depicts the winged lion of Venezia (Venice) on top of a tall pole. This whole area was indeed part of the inland empire of La Serenissima (the most serene) Republic of Venezia.

The best part for me, as a flâneuse was walking through the many porticoes of Serravalle. Enjoy my flâneuring..

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Luna e Venere | Selene and Aphrodite | Chak Ek’ and Ix’Chel. Mestre, Italia, January 1st, 2016.




Venus is the brightest object in the sky after the Sun and the Moon, and sometimes looks like a bright star in the morning or evening sky.

Source: windows2universe.com



Venus is one of the five planets that are visible with the naked eye. Due to its easy visibility, the ancient people were well aware of the planet’s existence. They also kept track of its movement in the sky. 

Venus is 10 times brighter than Sirius, the brightest star in the sky. Venus’s clouds project the light of the Sun as a mirror would. In addition to Venus’s amazing luminosity is the origin of its name.
Venus derived its name from the Romans who religiously followed the Greek tradition. Venus is the Roman version of the Greek goddess, Aphrodite. The Roman and Greek goddess of love, beauty and fertility is Venus and therefore, the planet was named after her. Perhaps the fact that Venus is the brightest planet in the sky contributes to how it got its name. It is quite possible that the Romans found the brightness to be so enchanting that they felt it deserved to be named after the goddess of beauty and love. Furthermore, the Romans were aware of 7 bright objects that existed in the sky, moon, sun, and the 5 brightest planets. These planets were named after the most important gods. Due to Venus being a goddess of womanhood, all of the features on the planet, except for one, are named after women. The main craters, for example, are named after influential women that existed during various times. One of them is the famous ballerina, Anna Pavlova, who lived from 1881 to 1931. Sacajawea, the Native American tribeswoman who explored the West with Lewis and Clark, has a crater named after her as well. The greatest female poet of ancient Greece, Sappho, has a crater named after her too.  

The planet Venus represents woman hood, pride, and love in many ways. The symbol for the planet Venus is the symbol of a circle with a cross at the bottom, which stands for being a woman. 

Source: moonphases.info

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Hello Stranger!

In case you are wondering what happened to me and why I’ve gone M.I.A during the month of February and most of March, the board above is one of the reasons. As it happened in 2010,
our school underwent an enormous accreditation visit, which meant preparing for months collecting, documenting and providing evidences.

One of the best things to come out of the work leading to the Accreditation was that Faculty was once more asked to prepare a record of what we have been doing – outside of teaching- the past five years.
It is a monumental task to audit, select and curate five years of life, work, art – yet I welcome the chance to take stock of where I have been, for it points to where I want to go. This process of self-evaluation is a privilege not afforded to many professions, and I was thankful for the challenge.
We were also asked to write a brief narrative. I worked on this more hours than I care to admit and I am happy to now share this with you: words, drawings and travel photography — some of which hasn’t been seen here yet! Hope you enjoy it.


“The French writer Daniel Pennac describes the notion of  the passeur, of the ‘transmitter’, as intimately connected to the ownership of culture.  He considers pedagogy as a branch of dramaturgy: a great teacher is a playwright, a vector of knowledge who instills curiosity, personifies her subject, and communicates passion. As an academic, designer, artist, and poet , storytelling is central to my work.

When I was six years old, fascinated by a book of folktales of Northern Europe, I decided I wanted to be a collector of legends. Though my path took me to Architecture and Fine Arts, teaching History of Architecture brought me to travel to Latin America, the American Southwest and the Caribbeans  where I began to record the history of place through the stories of its native people, These ‘stories of architecture’ become the framework of my courses. Through drawing, urban sketching, collages, photography, and writing, my preoccupation has been with collecting, documenting, processing and communicating narratives – while letting the spontaneous unfold.”


Miti Aiello, San Diego, March 2016

Writer Update:

My abstract on my research on Storage Cities has been accepted by one of the two main Architecture academic bodies here in the U.S for presentation at their International Conference! They are sending me to Santiago, Chile in June, and will publish my academic paper. Too excited for words. If you want to get a sneak peek and read my abstract check out my academia.edu page.

This is likely a hello/byefornow.
I wanted to update my blog now that classes have ended for the quarter, and before once again leaving for Mexico, this time in Baja California Sur for a week of volunteering. Faculty and students of my school are going to help build a healing center using natural architecture in a location that is three hours away by car from the closest road. It will be very remote, challenging and, I am sure, transforming. I will document everything.

Few weeks ago I wrote that, sometimes, we don’t have time to do art because we are too busy living a life that is art itself.
That is a true blessing, amidst the inherent challenges.

Although I have not posted here, I have not stopped taking photographs, seeing, collecting, thinking. My hope of hopes is to get caught up with my posts this summer…Promises we have heard before…

“You don’t need motivation.
What you need is discipline, young lady!”

Joe

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Lapis Azules

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My next painting 🙂

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Home....

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Lei’ que San Juan, Cadiz y La Habana son la misma ciudad, pero en otros lugares

I read that San Juan, Cadiz, and Havana are all the same city, just in different places.
V.

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San Francisco, Samovar @ Yerba Buena Gardens, April 6, 2014. Drew Fish (left) and Miti Aiello (right) . Ink, Watercolor.

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Posting from sweet Montego Bay, Jamaica.

To ‘post’ something once referred to mailing a missive – it’s ironic  we use the terminology of a technology that the internet has almost replaced  to explain the workings of said internet.  Sort of like how in the early 19th century the workings of the brains were referred to in terms of hydraulics.

Nonetheless, I am sending out these digital postcards  for the passer-byes, the dear ones, the far away ones.

Life is good here …paradise.

It is the end of the year, so today I scheduled all the remaining posts for 2013…all the ones i promised – don’t be overwhelmed;)

Music on my mind. I made a new podcast, an uptempo one this time, and called it Wicked Mojito – for all your wicked nights.

Download the uninterrupted  flow here (technical difficulties) or listen play by play on 8tracks.



Enjoy. Make it a good one tonight ;).
See you in 2014.

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This is the beach I get to go to…and no, I did not take this photo,{courtesy of coming-to-jamaica.com} ..but all the rest, yes:) enjoy….



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My Boxing Day coffee…

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My spot.

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I can’t stop looking at this sculpture on the beach. SO beautiful.

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The Parker. Palm Springs. December 19, 2013.

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The Ace hotel in Palm Springs. December 19, 2013.


We came to Palm Springs
in search of the sun and found desert modern design,

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Desert Springs. The Canal @The Marriott.

perforated walls and floors that become water.
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Muji paper bag, found material. Milano, Italia, January 2012.


As Stephen King used to address his imaginary interlocutor…

Dear Reader,

Conscious of my erratic posting frequency lately and sudden absences and reappearances, I feel it is right to append few words to this latest image and not once more slink out without, if not an explanation, at least a taste for things to come.

To the handful of Sketchbloom aficionados, a reassurance that this digital sketchbook has many pages yet to be filled.
This hiatus was a leavening and not the intermittent sputtering of an engine about to give out.

I have been traveling and working within and without, intensely, compiling new travel material and unearthing little gems to share from the past four years.
Call it a spring cleaning of many, many drives that was long overdue and undertaken in the mind first and, secondarily, going through storage media in different geographies.

It’s going to be a long, luscious end-of-summer, of images like frames of a wanderer’s life-movie , of odes to my father that will live next to art made by hands, of necessary, daily making, of teaching…and thoughts, words and warmth that become memories and  poetry.

I finally (finally!) feel caught up and organized,  ready to knock out creative projects I have flirted with for years. Along with the biggies, a lot of posts ready to be shared.

My cardboard suitcase is always packed,  and I’m taking you with me.

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‘Habana is very much like a rose,’ said Fico Fellove in the movie The Lost City,

‘it has petals and it has thorns…so it depends on how you grab it.

But in the end it always grabs you.’


“One of the most beautiful cities in the world. You see it with your heart.”

Enrique Nunez Del Valle, Paladar Owner

Habana’s real essence is so difficult to pin down. Plenty of writers have had a try, though; Cuban intellectual Alejo Carpentier nicknamed Habana the ‘city of columns,’ Federico Llorca declared that he had spent the best days of his life there and Graham Greene concluded that Habana was a city where ‘anything was possible.’

ARCHITECTURE

Habana is, without doubt, one of the most attractive and architecturally diverse cities in the world. Shaped by a colorful colonial history  and embellished by myriad foreign influences from as far afield as Italy and Morocco, the Cuban capital gracefully combines Mudéjar, baroque, neoclassical, art nouveau, art deco and modernist architectural styles into a visually striking whole.

But it’s not all sweeping vistas and tree-lined boulevards. Habana doesn’t have the architectural uniformity of Paris or the instant knock-out appeal of Rome. Indeed, two decades of economic austerity has meant many of the city’s finest buildings have been left to festering an advanced state of dilapidation. Furthermore, attempting to classify Habana’s houses,palaces, churches and forts as a single architectural entity is extremely difficult.

Cuban building – rather like its music – is unusually diverse. Blending Spanish colonial with French belle epoque, and Italian Renaissance with Gaudi-esque art nouveau, the over-riding picture is often one of eclecticism run wild.

Brendan Sainsbury


















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