A Little R & R

Thanks for all the encouraging comments concerning my recent move. One of the reasons I'm not as far along on the unpacking and settling in to the new place is because, once totally out of the old, I took off for 5 days to visit some friends. The drive home from Minnesota was a good start to shaking off the responsibilities and intensity of my experience there, but I also just needed to talk, relax and have some fun before settling back into a daily routine. Besides, my longer than expected stay in Rochester spoiled my plans to visit one friend back in August.  She graciously made time for me in October instead. That's her on the left...;-)

I should have visited before I moved, when the weather was still unusually warm and dry. We had plans for ferry rides and walking treks around cities, but ditched those when faced with rain and mists and more rain. We did venture out one wet afternoon, bundled in rain coats, to visit a couple of museums.

It was so grey and dismal, no color to make the lines of this bridge stand out, to make the waterfront inviting.

Monochromatic seemed the order of the day. My friend struggles with these gloomy days and I struggle to help her see something positive in them. This day I admitted defeat, unable to make lemonade out of this lemon weather.

So we headed to the art museum only to be greeted by an exhibit of black and white photography - oh, the irony! There was an impulse to turn away, not subject ourselves inside to what was in abundance outside. But we wandered into the gallery anyway and soon found ourselves mesmerized by the photographs of Michael Kenna.

Hillside Fence, Study 2 by Michael Kenna

Seven Posts in Snow by Michael Kenna

Matin Blanc by Michael Kenna

I was particularly drawn to his most minimalist photos - proving once again simple does not mean simplistic, that more is sometimes just more. He also had a series of tree photos - oddly enough, I didn't take my own photos of those, but they were particularly interesting to me because of the way he appeared to break the rule of composition by placing the horizon directly at center, and centering his trees as well. My friend noted that the positioning was very traditional quilt-like and that if you know the rules and the reason for them, you can break them successfully if you desire.

All was not all dismal in the museum though. We found some Chihuly glass, always bright and colorful. These modish vases filled with fanciful flowers were huge, towering over us and reminding me of plants gone rogue in some 1950's or 60's sci-fi movie.

And along a walkway near the museum, some leaves provided a dash of color to the grey cityscape, echoing the orange in my friend's handbag.