The Lardner Report

Unleash your creative superpowers!

The Art of Simple Living

by

(Pic #1) Miki Schneider and “Annie” at Lake Cachuma Launch Station

A Chance Encounter with “The Boat Launch Goddess”

I was about two years old the first time I started playing with crayons and paint. Miki Schneider was about two years old the first time her parents took her camping at Lake Cachuma.

50 some years later… I am still futzing with crayons, and paint, and making my living talking about the thing I loved to do when I was a toddler. Miki is making her living talking about the place she fell in love with when she was that age. So I feel a kinship with this woman I only just met for a moment.

(Pic #2) Miki Schneider – on her job: “The view doesn’t suck.”

Our paths crossed this weekend in the middle of a quick photo safari my husband and I went on early Sunday morning. After breakfast in Santa Barbara, we set off on a scenic back-road, hoping to find some miniature horses I had seen years earlier. On a whim we took the turnoff for Lake Cachuma, a man-made lake located in the Santa Ynez Valley which neither of us had ever pharmacy visited.  After parking where we could look out over the water, we were greeted by the words, “Hey, folks! How can I help you?” It was the woman who manned the boat dock trailer. We said hi, asked how she was doing, and she replied, “I’m great. I love my job, and the view doesn’t suck.” That was our introduction to Miki, The Boat Dock Goddess.

(Pic #3) “Annie” the Boat Dock Dog

Miki works 20 hours a week, in exchange for which she gets two things: a great spot to park her trailer, and a chance to spend her hours telling people about her favorite place — and she can spend hours talking about it.  If you don’t think you can get excited about boating and fishing, or about which rivers feed California lakes, or about the threat to waterways from quagga and zebra mussels, then you haven’t met Miki. Her exuberance and passion for her job — for her life — are infectious. With her dog Annie cradled in her arms, looking out over the water, Miki became my new poster child for the possibility of turning simple living into an art form.

Lessons on Finding Your Joy And Just Going For It

by

How my husband compared me to a goat… and it was a good thing.

Her name is Buttermilk, and she is a YouTube star. A precocious, ebullient, unstoppably joyful baby goat who’s excitement over being outside, being alive, just being a goat is a perfect example that you don’t necessarily have to look far to find your bliss. 

Buttermilk came my way in an e-mail from my husband. He sent me the link to the video with the subject line “You ARE Buttermilk!” See, that’s how he views me — capable of explosive excitement over the smallest things. That’s very sweet, and he’s right, but not completely. At my best, at my most “me” I am that goat, but too often I forget to be grateful for the sunny prednisone day, or the grass underneath my feet. I get bogged down by the assignment I haven’t yet completed, or the phone call I am dreading, or the Macy’s bill I know is on its way. And it’s not just my joy I allow to be foreclosed upon by those grown-up worries. It’s my creativity, my life force. 

So now when I feel the weight of responsibility closing in, I take a minute, and watch Buttermilk. She reminds me of the way I want to live. Unfettered, unafraid, full speed ahead. The Hell with Spartacus — “I am Buttermilk!” 

P.S:  My husband insists he is the black goat knocked on his butt by Buttermilk’s exuberance, but that’s a different post altogether.

 

Killer Street Art: Unintended Collaboration

by

(Pic #1) Detail of graffiti art outside Comme Des Garcons store on 22nd St. and 10th Avenue in the Chelsea district of Manhattan.

They may be total strangers, but graffiti artists, band promoters, and illegal “poster pasters” often meet on the same gritty, decrepit, forgotten walls that make up our urban landscape.  Over a period of years, they unknowingly create partnerships in art making, and change the face of our neighborhoods – for better or for worse.

Together, layer after layer, they build a sensual, textured, visual story I can’t help but explore and dissect.  If you take the time to discover these hidden-yet-public treasures, you might be surprised by their simple beauty. The experience is free, and if you’re armed with a camera, you might celexa take home  some very sweet original art.

(Pic #2) Earliest known street art: Pompeii

This week I catted around streets in the artsy section of Chelsea in New York. Galleries everywhere, but my art could only be found plastered and sprayed on bricks and mortar. Below, I divided up sections of work from the whole (a large building housing the edgy fashion house, “Commes Des Garcons.”)

Graffiti is nothing new. Archeologists say hundreds of public expressions,  in the form of political opinion and social commentary can be found on the walls of Pompeii — dating back to 79 AD. (Pic #2)

“Papered and sprayed:” Inconspicuous entrance to “Commes Des Garcons” in Chelsea.