Tucson, Part 2

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I visited Brian and Susan for the first time in 2005, when I lived in Oregon and they hosted a family gathering. I fell in love with their house then and couldn't wait to come back this time with my camera. These two creatives are so inspiring. I guess that’s what happens when an architect and an artist come together. But also, this landscape. Can you imagine waking up to these mountains every day?

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It starts with the handmade purple cactus screen door. And then the gardens. They’re all around the house, and each one is its own beautiful vignette. Everywhere you look, there’s something amazing to discover—both inside and out. Brian designed and constructed must of the structures, including the fence and gate above.

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Two standout favorites in the back yard: the old truck above, which Brian took from Susan’s brother Charlie’s ranch and repurposed as a giant funky grill cover, and the striking bright pink wall with the purple cactus cut-out gate below.

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I remember Susan telling me years ago about how her mother had arranged groups of plants in pots every year on their patio. She’s carrying on the tradition, and man, is she doing it well.

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I learned a lot about the family on this trip. Susan’s mother Mary Jo moved to Tucson in her early twenties because she was told it was good for asthma. Mary Jo’s Aunt Emmy (my Dad’s great-aunt) also relocated from New England to Tucson and opened a gift shop downtown. Both Mary Jo and Aunt Emmy had artistic taste and a good eye—I still have beautiful bits of silk and lace that Emmy gave my mom years ago. It’s very comforting to know that all these strong, artistic, adventurous women are in my genes.

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And what better place to move than one filled with natural beauty and amazing art? We happened upon these beautiful Mexican painted animals when we visited Tohono Chul, a botanical garden and gallery where Susan had a painting on display.

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And I went crazy over the cacti. Naturally.

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We took a short jaunt downtown to historic Fourth Avenue on our last day there. I found this amazing courtyard of repurposed shipping containers selling food and drink. It’s called The Boxyard and appears to be a sort of semi-permanent food truck situation. Doesn’t this seem like something we should recreate here in West Virginia?!?

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Public art is clearly a priority in Tucson. They’ve even worked it into their bus stops. That sort of dedication really sets a tone.

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On our last night, we got to have dinner with Dad’s cousin Charlie and his partner Connie on their ranch.

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The skies are big and wide there, and both the stars and the company were fantastic.

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I told Dad he and Charlie look like east and west coast twinsies. Not only were they both wearing tucked-in plaid shirts and work boots, but also identical Carhart jeans. Whoa.

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I get it now, why people go to the desert seeking clarity. I came back from this trip having found some, and some artistic inspiration to boot.

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Tucson, Part 1: Sometimes, you just need to go to the desert.

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I took the boy on his first trip out west a few weeks ago. My dad and stepmom have taken to RVing down South through the winters, and so we met them in Tucson. Not only does Tucson have the obvious appeal of cacti and mountains, but Dad’s cousin Susan and her husband Brian live there. Which means we got to visit with some of my favorite family members and explore the desert while snowmelt filled the streams and the flowers were in bloom.

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The first day we went to the Arizona-Senora Desert Museum. That place was amazing and so well done. It’s a huge maze of pathways that connect multiple botanical gardens and desert animals in natural settings. So many different types of cacti.

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Dad wanted to know what I was going to do with all those pictures. At least two blog posts, Dad.

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Just two miles from the museum is Saguaro National Park West.

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Twice in the last few years I’ve had the feeling that I was exactly where I should be. (Both times I was out west next to some serious mountains. Coincidence?) Hiking through Saguaro National Park was one of those times. I asked Coban if this was the best thing he’d ever done in his whole life, and he agreed that it was.

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The next day we headed out of town for a zipline adventure. My second cousin, Emily, who I met for the first time on this trip, is part owner of Arizona Zipline Adventures. She and her partner have created an amazing space with bunkhouses for people to stay in, a communal space for meals and gatherings, and of course, a zipline course that gives amazing views of the mountains and surrounding ranch land.

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There’s even a place outside to mine for gold.

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Right up the road is the historic 3 C Ranch, which Emily’s family has restored to include guest houses and event space. There was so much color and texture and beauty out there that I couldn’t fit it all in one post. Stay tuned for Tucson Part 2.

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A Slice for Thanksgiving

 
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I drove to NYC last week with Coban to meet our lovely friends for a destination Thanksgiving.

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You know it’s a cold one when this child is willing to don a scarf. (The next day he snuck back to the hotel room before we left to remove his fleece and leave his gloves behind, perhaps because the long underwear from the parade day had made him sweat. This happens when you run everywhere at full speed.)

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The Thanksgiving Day Parade was cold, but quite an experience. My cold-blooded friend brought hand warmers, which we stuffed into our boots, and those and the fleece tights under my jeans kept me feeling fine.

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The floats are just huge, but we could barely see the street where they walked. And yet, being there with other people from all over was such a nice bonding experience. It’s not that we made friends and shared blankets, but I felt a certain positive energy from waiting in the same space for an event that everyone agrees is kind of awesome and worth freezing your pants off for a few hours.

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I just love the textures of the city. So many designs interplaying every where you look.

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I also loved how our kids made their own fun no matter where we were, running and jumping and moving quickly under pipes and railings.

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My child jumped up and down with excitement when he saw the first fast-moving subway, but then a few trips later he decided it was old hat. I find both of these positions entertaining. He may make a good traveling companion.

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These colors. Imagine this for a quilt pallet. Or a hand-woven rug. Yum.

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The new World Trade Center is nicely designed.

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And the monuments and the nearby tour guides made me cry.

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But I thought it was worth the wait to get to the 360 view at the top.

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This was the site of a mini-meltdown, so someone was pouting as he took in the views.

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But what can a bagel and lox not fix? Not much. After that, we jumped on the Staten Island Ferry.

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I didn’t get a picture of the guys behind the counter at Ray’s Pizza, who grumbled at me when I asked what something was, but I have a nice mental picture of how good it felt to sit drinking a beer and eating a slice on Thanksgiving with old friends while our kids listed things they were thankful for, which of course included pizza and Minecraft.

But hey, we were all really thankful.

Damn Good Junk

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I took the back roads to Davis last weekend, and so many things along the way begged to be photographed. But often the roads are narrow or someone’s house is right next to the thing I want to capture, and I didn’t want to stop. Lucky for me, this amazing junk shop had a pull off directly across the road. Who can resist a man in a roof canoe peddling Damn Good Junk? Not me.

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I also liked the look of these gas pumps, leftover from another time but still regally standing guard over the toilet on the porch just behind.

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I have a very poor memory for routes, but I realized as I wound my way down old Route 50 through turns so tight you almost feel dizzy in the driver’s seat, that I’d driven that road many times before. Just beyond those tightest of turns is Cool Springs, which is the most entertaining (and long-standing) of destinations. My mom used to stop there every year on her way to Ocean City, Maryland, and the windy roads never failed to make her sick.

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Hot dogs, milk shakes, fresh produce, and a coonskin cap are all available for a price in the store that still has an old school lunch counter, and so much more. The walls are lined with taxidermy, and local handmade soaps and jewelry are mixed in with the most amazing collection of kitsch and the tackiest of West Virginia paraphernalia. It’s a real treat for the eyes. The shake was pretty good too.

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The grounds include these stone figurines, an array of barnyard animals, and an impressive collection of tractors and train parts that has clearly taken years to assemble.

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The closer you get to the mountains, the more beautiful the landscape. I’ve never managed to get a satisfactory photo, but I get excited every single time I come across the giant row of windmills on Backbone Mountain. They’re just so huge and dramatic.

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My ultimate destination was the Billy Motel, where I’ve wanted to stay for years. I must say, I was not disappointed.

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When I walked into the office/bar to check in, a man in the corner said to his friends around the fireplace, “Well, shall we bash Trump some more?” And I knew I was in the right place.

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The rooms have a fresh, modern look, and the tile in the bathrooms is clearly old but revitalized (through lots of elbow grease I learned). On the rough-hewn wooden shelf were two drink tokens to use at the bar, and beside the bed was a collection of stories by Breece D’J Pancake. I love this attention to detail.

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Not only is the bar full service and the bartender a friendly source of local knowledge, but the room is filled with midcentury modern gems.

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Outside is a quaint little courtyard with a buddha in the corner. Naturally.

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Everything was just so well done. AND, it’s in West Virginia. It’s no wonder the New York Times has taken notice.

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We drove a short distance to downtown Davis for dinner at Sirianni’s and then danced to the music of a very fun and energetic band called Qiet at the Purple Fiddle.

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The next morning I stopped on my way to breakfast at Tip Top to photograph this amazing mural created by Nellie Rose, a local textile artist, who I met for the first time on the dance floor at the Fiddle the night before. She was sweet and friendly, and I couldn’t help but tell her in what I hope was not too much of a fan voice: “I follow you on Instagram!”

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Seriously, friends. Thomas and Davis: They’ve got a good thing going right now, and you should totally check it out.