Goodbye little red house; Goodbye 2014.

January 11th 2015

Seattle, Washington. 

Dearest Family & Friends,

Happy New Year to you all. I hope this letter finds you healthy and well.  Today is my 7 year anniversary of living in the Pacific Northwest.

As I write this, I realize that I have not blogged since August of 2013. Wow. A lot has happened since then. My year has been filled with adventures, family, love and travel.  2014 began in the windy city of Chicago at below freezing temperatures and piercing winds.  Hans and I spent New Years Eve in Chicago with my family, ringing in 2014 with family and  friends. Anneclaire and Steve, Philadelphia transplants, who previously lived in Seattle, flew to Chicago to meet us for New Years Eve.  My mom had her bi-annual new years eve bash with old-time, swing and some jazz music, piano and accordion tunes included, with a keg from Begyle brewery.

Me, mom and Brendan, NYE 2013, Chicago.

             My brother Brendan owns a successful brewery in the neighborhood of Chicago (www.begylebrewing.com) They kindly donated a keg for the party: a Midwest pale ale.  New years day was spent relaxing after a failed attempt to polar plunge into the lake with my dad.  I think we were all secretly relieved as the high that day was 15 degrees Fahrenheit.  The temperatures dropped as the week progressed.  Hans did many house projects for my mom, including fixing her snow blower, helping with the delivery and installment of a new washing machine, fixing an antique mirror and shoveling endless amounts of snow. Welcome to January in Chicago.  When we flew out, it was 0 degrees outside and 80 degrees on the airplane. Talk about climate control.
Ravenswood

2014...

All City Coffee, Georgetown

Red Ped paintings.

  On January 11^Th, 2014, six years to the date after moving to Seattle, I had my first solo art show in Georgetown: Red Peds: Moped Paintings from Photographs.  I began this series of paintings in 2008 when I first moved to Seattle and lived on Capitol Hill. One of my housemates was a guy who restored mopeds. I was able to photograph them during the repair processes.  There were eight pieces done in oil on canvas, ranging from small to large, all square in format.  They were displayed at All City Coffee, a local, Seattle coffee shop.  The opening was during the Georgetown Art Attack (www.georgetownartattack.com). That evening was memorable, as I randomly ran into another friend of mine in a different gallery who invited me to see Black Queen, a metal band at Slim's Last Chance: quite a divey bar, as the name may suggest.

B.Blume, 2014

         






The following weekend my mom fly to Seattle to visit me and join me in heading down to the 15^Th Annual Portland Old-Time Gathering (www.bubbaguitar.com). It was my 7^Th gathering and my mom's 3^rd.  We had a blast dancing, jamming and visiting friends in Portland.  My band Peckin' Out Dough played a square dance; it was one of the best dances we've ever done; high energy and enthusiasm.  

 

Peckin' Out Dough during dance calling break at the Portland Gathering, 2014

                 We headed back to Seattle on Sunday afternoon to catch the end of the Seattle Seahawks vs. San Francisco 49'ers game: a playoff game in which Seattle clenched the division title and headed into the Superbowl. My mom was stoked to be at the rowdy Barking Dog in Ballard, cheering with the other Seattle fans. Hans and his friends had scored us a great spot in the corner. Many of the fans were dressed in lime green and blue, with number 12 jerseys.  I even had to get a photograph of my mom with a guy who had a wild Mohawk and painted face.  We left the bar just in time to not hit traffic coming south on the 99.  We did see the fireworks at the stadium and the Ferris wheel lit up with Seahawks colors. I probably should have been driving, as my mom was quite distracted by the spectacle of lights. 

Mom with some Seahawks fans.

               If January hadn't been quite full enough, I left the country on January 25^Th. I spent nearly a month travelling around Austria, Germany and Switzerland.  It was one of the most diverse and exciting vacations of my life.  I was able to purchase a plane ticket using frequent flyer miles to fly to Munich, Germany on US Airways.  Hans drove me to the airport and we said our goodbyes.  The first flight to Philadelphia was just over five hours, the second flight over the Atlantic was about seven hours.  Of course, flights from the US seem to always arrive in the morning in European time. So I left in the morning of the 25^Th and arrived in Munich on the morning of the 26^Th, though because of the time change, I was not in the air for 24hours, thank goodness. Flying has become less comfortable as I get older.  Perhaps my body is not quite as flexible or self-reparable as it once was.  I called Julia from the airport, as I did not see her after clearing customs and exiting through the security gates.

Andre & Julia, Berchtesgaden, Germany, 2014. 

Julia & Innsbruck, Austria. 2014

 
In case you do not know Julia, she is my best friend in Germany. We met in 2001 when I was an exchange student living in Bad Homburg, Germany.  We had math and English (Literature) class together.  We have been friends ever since.  She visited me in Chicago twice: once for a few weeks with our ex-boyfriends and once for a month by herself. The month-long trip was awesome, as she was able to take a language course and we were able to spend two weeks travelling about the US. We took a trip to New York City and a road trip to Nashville and Memphis.  Julia and I go way back.  I always stay with her family when I go back to Germany.  I was even able to spend Christmas with Julia's Oma, for the last Christmas of her life.  Since we've met, we have been consistent and diligent about keeping in contact; first it was via email and phone calls, now it is via email, phone calls, skype and viber.  Technology has made our relationship seem as if it is not so distant.  I am so thankful for this.

Innsbruck, Austria. January 2014.

So, I got off on a tangent, though I felt it was a necessary one.  Back to the trip.

Stadtturm (City Tower) Innsbruck, Austria.  

If you haven't experienced German culture; Germans are quite terrified of being late for any sort of scheduled appointment or date. Being late makes them anxious, nervous and stressed out.  I have some of that trait instilled in me. But when I am in Germany, I feel very lackadaisical and laid back about time in contrast to the natives.  My friend was not at the airport when I walked groggily out of the security gates. I waited for a bit, then wondered to a different gate thinking "She can't be late, she must have the gate mistaken." After about 15 minutes of wandering about, extremely exhausted and jet-lagged, I decided to change some money to get some snacks, a coffee and some Euro change for the payphone. Unlike in the US, one can readily fine a pay phone that takes change at the airport and in most other public places.  I called a left a message on her voicemail.  Because I have an iPhone I was able to connect to wifi (pronounced WIH-FEE in German) and check my email.  Julia had sent me an email, in which she explained that she confused the times and thought my plane landed in the afternoon.  I could sense the embarrassment she felt via that apologetic email.  It was a two hour drive from her mountain town in southern Bavaria to the Munich International airport.  

Julia and Andre, her fiancee as of this year, live in Schoenau am Koenigsee, the southeastern most town in Bavaria. In fact this Berchtesgadener region is so far south, that it is a small chunk of mountains and national park surrounded by Austria on three sides.  To get here from Munich by train, one must take a train to Freilassing and then transfer to a smaller train to Berchtesgaden.  Then it is about a 10 minute drive to Schoenau am Koenigsee.  This area is mountainous and beautiful.  I was in this region once before, visiting my host brother Sven when he was completing his military duty after high school.  Julia decided to move out of Frankfurt when Andre got a job as a bobsled coach in Berchtesgaden for the German national team.  The bob sled course is about 1 mile from their house.
That's Julia's neighborhood now.

The bobsled course in Berchtesgaden, where the German team trained before heading to the 2014 Winter Olympics in Sortie, Russia. 

More to come on Europe and the rest of 2014.............

New York City-August 2013

I love New York City. I do love that big, dirty, grimy, rough city.  I was lucky to be able to visit NYC on my trip to the east coast.  The Bolt Bus goes there from Philly for a reasonable price. I paid $23 round trip from downtown Philly to midtown Manhatten.  It's a two hour bus ride, with traffic.  That's closer than Portland to Seattle.  If I lived in Philly, I'd probably visit NYC once a month.

What is it that I love about NYC? I don't love crowds of people, in fact I am an introvert.  This city is alive and vibrant, yet there is a pace about it that allows space within chaos.  During my two days in the city, I found many moments of solace among crowds. I felt lost within the bubble of activity, but I did not mind.  Having brought my watercolor book and paints to the east coast, I did more artwork during the 30 hours I spent in New York than I did in all of the other places combined.  I may not know how to describe that in words, but I feel as though it is what people call inspiration.  As a visual learner, I take in the environment that surrounds me. In NYC that environment is rich with colors, people, movement, art, music and smells.  As I stepped out of the bus in midtown manhatten, I had no idea my location, but I knew that I could walk anywhere and be somewhere fascinating.  People watching is timeless in this city.

(Brooklyn Bridge, walking Manhatten to Brooklyn; a tradition of mine while in NYC)

I got some cold brew from Stumptown in Chelsea and sat in Washington Square Park near NYU for nearly two hours listening to a brass jazz band busk in the plaza while I painted what I saw.  Another aspect about NYC that really appeals to me is people's sense of self importance.  I noticed that no one bothered me while I was painting in the streets there, it must be common. Either that or people are busy doing there own thing.  

Above is a photo of an old lady collecting cans and bottles out of the trash cans in Chelsea.  She had so much weight on her shoulders, but was balancing it quite nicely on a stick. 

 

 My feet in sandals love the pavement of NYC.  I walked so much. I didn't even use my metro card that I bought on the first day, becuase walking is more enjoyable in NYC.

Just returned from "back east."

I have become aware that people on the west coast, or at least folks in the northwest refer to anywhere east of the Rockies as "back east," as if all of us have traveled in a covered wagon west during the 1800's.  I certainly did not, but I did travel from east to west.  That being said, I don't feel as if I am from the east coast, especially since where I come from is most often called the "Midwest." This I believe is currently mislabeled, as it is more "mid-east," as it is much closer in proximity to the east coast than the west coast. 

By this time, you have either stopped or are puzzled as to why I am so obsessed with geography....

(sunrise in Philadelphia, PA)

 

Last week I returned from a two week trip to the east coast.  Three time zones away and an entirely different world, if you ask me.  It almost felt like culture shock.  In any case, I knew that I was far away from everything familiar. 

I took a Friday night red-eye flight direct from Seattle to Philadelphia, PA.  A five and a half hour flight, 2830 miles according to Google Maps, and my seat didn't recline.  At least I had some tasty Thai food, a warm sweater and a content smirk on my face from the rush that got me to the airport just in time to clear TSA, banjo and all.  Yes, I was bringing my banjo because I was headed to Philly and Clifftop (for those of you who don't know....Clifftop is a small WV town that hosts the mega old time festival of 4000+ people playing tunes 24/7). Anyways...I left Seattle at 10:15pm local time and arrived in Philadelphia at 5:45am local time. 

 (right: brick gutters, left: driveway of the estate sale)

AC picked me up from the airport and we headed to get coffee and scones at a small coffee shop in a Berkley-type neighborhood called Mt. Airy, in the north part of Philadelphia. After coffee we headed to her rental house, unloaded my stuff and started out on a walk to Wissahickon park, a huge natural park that runs the length of the city.  We were shortly detoured by the prospect of an estate sale.  Wandering up the woodsy driveway, we inquired within, the sale was officially open at 9am. I believe it was 8:30am. By the time we got back to the house, I was ready for a nap. 

I ended up walking in the Wissahickon Valley Park on Sunday alone, exploring the forest and the trails, picking up loose pieces of wissahickon schist, a shiny, flaky stone, mined in the 1800's and used to build the foundations of large stone houses.  Anneclaire and Steve's new house is built with the schist.  It took me three days to be able to roll "wissahickon schist" off my tongue. 

(wissahickon schist)

 

 Many proper names in Philly were so foreign to me; names of stones, streets, neighborhoods and then specific types of architecture, houses and flats.  Manayunk (MAN-eee-UHNK) is a trendy neighborhood where college students live, located on the banks of the schuylkill (SKOO kill) river. 

In Philadelphia, or perhaps much of the east coast, steak is not a sirloin or t-bone, but rather refers to Philly cheese steak, which is basically sliced meat on a kaiser roll with melted cheese. Steve introduced me to another local speciality that I was not aware of, the "Schmitter." It is basically a Philly cheese steak add pastrami, thousand island dressing sauce, more melted cheese and tomatoes.  To me, it tasted like cheeseburger with a different texture.  I could have done with less than half of the sauce they put on that sandwich. 

 (right: the schmitter at the tavern it originated in, left: explanation of "schmitter" at the ballpark)

 Below is a photo of me lounging on the wrap-around porch of Ac and Steve's new house in Mt. Airy neighborhood. It's a Victorian house from the 1850's made partially of wissahickon schist.  It is a four story house with a full side lot and a huge garden.  I have to say, the porch is perfect for jamming at painting.  I spent some time painting, while Ac took care of her garden work. 

 

On Monday, Steve drove me around to diffferent parts of Philly, including downtown and the colonial area where there are houses from the 1700's. The "trinity" was a special building, a very narrow brick row-house with only one window and door in the front.  It was a three story row-house with each floor only having one long room. These are now very rare and saught after in the old part of town. Unfortunately I was not able to get a photo of one. The photo on the right below is that of some brick work done in the 1700's and then again in the 1800 or 1900's.  You can see where the brick style changed. 

 

  To the left is a photo of me posing at the Magic Gardens, a place I remember from last time I was in Philadelphia about five years ago visiting a friend on the east coast.  It amazed me how many public mosaic installations this artist had throguhout the city of Philly. 

 

We stopped by the Magic Gardens (www.phillymagicgardens.org), where a local mosaic tile artist Isaiah Zagar's work is displayed. 





 On Tuesday morning after packing the car we headed out of Philly, destination Clifftop, West Virginia for a week long music festival, the Appalachian String band Music Festival.  Before leaving the Philadelphia area we went to the gas station to fill up.  Because of a broken hose attached the nozzle, gasoline began spraying inside the car as well as on Anneclaire.  It took me a second to register what was happening.  Because of the gas leak, we ended up doing the 8 hour road trip inhaling some gas fumes. Not at all pleasant, especially since the windows had to be rolled down quite a bit to get some ventilation.  Below is a picture of us at rest stop airing out the car.  I believe this story is one of those that I can laugh about now, but at the time was annoying. 

 

 

(airing out the gas fumes somewhere in the state of Virginia)

 We made it to Clifftop in time to pitch our tent and have burritos with the folks we were camping with before it got dark.  We decided to share a tent and pitch it close to the road, probably not the safest place, but definitely the most level place we could find. Clifftop does not have the most ideal camping situations.  We camped with friends of mine from Chicago and Dayton Ohio, some musicians from Melbourne, Australia and a couple from Tasmania.  They had quite the set-up by the time we arrived. 

  I didn't take nearly enough photos at clifftop this year, but I did play lots of fiddle. I was fortunate to play with many new folks, most of them from the east coast; a lovely couple from Rhode Island, a group from Connecticut and an accordian player from NYC.  Ac and I played tunes with a great banjo player camped with us from Melbourne.  We also got to catch up and play tunes with our friends David and Michelle, folks who moved from Seattle to Ithaca, NY.  The weather at clifftop was rainy and muddy some days, and sunny other days. The mud was quite thick and encompassing.  My toes were so grimy.  The couple from Tanzania cooked us the best meal one evening, I felt as though I was in Italy at the home of a gourmet cook.  I couldn't put down my fork. 

More to come....

 

Red Peds, June 2013 in White Center

Red Peds:

A series of detailed oil paintings depicting various moped components.

By Brigid Blume

June 2013 at Center Studio

        Artist Reception: Thursday June 13^th 6-9pm

Center Studio, 9611 16^th Ave SW, White Center, WA

www.whitecenterstudio.com

"When I graduate high school....

.....you're going to be 30!" my sister said to me several years ago, when she stated our 12 year age difference out loud. Yes, I am THAT old now.  It was about 12 years ago when I graduated from high school.

Last Wednesday Maggie graduated from a private, all-girls high school located in Chicago.  I was  fortunate to be able to fly back for her graduation ceremony, located at the Copernicus Center, a beautiful old theater on the "nordwestSIDe" of Chicago. Two hundred plus girls in white gowns and heels with an average of 5-6inches. Some had sparkles. No one tripped! It was a very sweet ceremony. I love my sister. She is beautiful, smart AND an amazing water polo player.  We celebrated afterwards at my grandparents' house with round pizza cut in rectangle, square and triangle shapes (don't ask me why, it's a Chicago thing).   I cannot believe she will be leaving Chicago soon. Mom, dad, Grandma Carol, Aunt Karen,  Brendan and Christian also attended the ceremony. We really missed Peter, but I'm pretty sure we can photo shop him into the photo below.

(from left to right: Brendan, Me, Christian, and Maggie)

 

I love my siblings and am so very proud of all they are up to.  Brendan and Christian own a pedi-cab business that is doing extremely well. Check them out: www.blumebrotherspedicab.com Brendan also is co-owner of a fantastic community supported brewery in the Ravenswood neighborhood called Begyle, check them out: www.begylebrewing.com. Right now they distribute to bars and stores in Lincoln Square.  I helped him fold t-shirts the other day, in exchange for some brews. My trip to Chicago was short, but very sweet. Congratulations to my beautiful sister. More to come!