Welcome Back, Welcome Back, Welcome Back! Another Cardinal Climber (aka Ipomoea sloteri) Has Returned!

The newcomer to my urban terrace garden today is a vine which is currently "divided" into nine small planters that are sitting in a Mixed Nuts carton (given to me by the grower) on top of the marble table that I have in my terrace garden, as seen in the photograph posted above today's blog entry. They are waiting for Juan V to help me plant them into their new home. It is only 7:43:10 in the morning,  and already the temperature indicated on my little garden thermometer (a thermometer that I wrote about this past Tuesday) is quickly moving past the 80 degree mark , as seen in the photograph posted below.

The temperatures, in New York City, where I live and have my terrace garden, are predicted to pass the 100 degree mark, with a "real feel " of at least 105 degrees; and so at this point, in the summer of 2011, New York City officially joins the number of states in America, that are being plagued by prolonged periods of heat and humidity.


I realize my blog is not an NYC-Accu-Weather blog, nor am I a meteorologist, and instead I am a photo-artist, writer, as well as an urban gardener, but, the "connect" is this: gardening and weather conditions, as you are undoubtedly aware dear reader, are very much interrelated. If I didn't love the things which I grow in my terrace garden so much, I might spend a hot and humid day, like today, on the boardwalk at the Jersey shore standing under the watering can (such as the one pictured below)

and enjoy being watered; instead of hand watering my sixty plus beloved herbs, plants, flowers, vines, shrubs, and trees. For now, to cool off, instead of going to the beach, I will have to bring the beach to me, and picture myself being under the boardwalk's watering can's cool spray.
In any event, as for today's terrace garden work, Juan V and I plan to put the new arrivals into three eight-inch sized clay pots that previously provided a home for my Honeysuckle Vine, which we had to remove last week, as discussed in a prior post that you may refer to by clicking here.


Two of the three clay pots (the third is off camera) that had especially appreciated my beloved Honeysuckle Vine, as well as the bare trellis which it used to climb upon, are eagerly anticipating the arrival of the newcomers, which can be seen in the images posted below.

Today's newcomers are, acording to the grower, "a hummingbird's favorite" and are known as Cardinal Climbers (aka Ipomoea sloteri). They are very similar to the Maiden's Feather, a Cypress Vine (aka Ipomea quamoclit), and they are from the Morning Glory family. It has been a long time since I have put anything from the Morning Glory family in my garden; however, I have referred to them in a post that you may review by clicking here.


Many years ago, my aunt sent me some seeds for the Cardinal Climbers, and the seed's packaging can be seen in the photograph posted below.

The seeds did very well producing delightful, beautifully scalped, green leaves and red flowers which flourished in my garden, trailing up an exhaust pipe (which looks like a pole) in the northwest corner of my garden) where my H.F. Young Clematis has resided for a number of years. (I have written about my H.F. in a number of posts, including ones which you may find by clicking here as well as here and here.)


I confess that I did not take any photographs of my garden during those early green-thumb years because I actually did not even want to take time out from tending to what I grew to photograph them. (However I did take — as well as print — black and white as well as kaleidoscopic-color photographs of other things which you may view in the  various print collection pages on my web-site, Patricia Youngquist Photo-Art where purchase information is available.) Hence, dear reader, as for my early endeavors with the Cardinal Climbers, you will have to picture in your mind how they might have looked trailing up the pole, and perhaps the images you create in your imagination wil be better than ones I might have captured.


In any event, regarding the fate of my Cardinal Climbers, I only grew them from seed in that location for one season, because, for one thing, the following season neither my aunt nor I could find seeds for the Cardinal Climbers within our choices of gardening centers and hardware stores in the areas where we each live. This was unusual since my aunt lives in a relatively heavily populated northwest suburb of Chicago, and I live in New York City. Moreover, as for finding the Cardinal Climbers seeds on line, I was not Internet Literate during those years.


Be that as it may, at that time I also decided to plant perennial vines in "the pole location", so, in the years that followed, I  did this by planting varieties of Clematis: 'Candia' (Clematis lanuginosa) and H.F. Young Clematis respectively, and so the story of what grows in that location of my terrace garden, as they say, is history. . .  


Therefore, I was resigned to having no more Cardinal Climbers grow in my terrace garden until I met a talented man, named Jay P, who found a grower that could offer me the plants. This was in 2005 or 2006, and ultimately this vine, once again, flourished, but in another location (southeast of the pole) in my terrace garden. I still was not photographing my terrace garden at that time; however, I recall the Cardinal Climbers thriving and flourishing, as well as their beauty, in the mental slideshows within my mind. Lovely as they were, because they are an annual, I decided to put a perennial vine in the southeast location, and that is when I planted my Autumn Clematis — the one I've referred to as Donna's Legacy — which I ultimately photographed and blogged about in an entry that you may refer to by clicking here.


I realize the aforementioned is a rather lengthy back-story on how I came to know the Cardinal Climbers and so, tomorrow morning, when Juan V and I are well past the activities of today's terrace work, and If I don't melt away from the oppressive heat, I will post pictures of how the new arrivals look in their new digs.


Meanwhile, dear reader, if you live in parts of the world which are affected by a heat wave, HYDRATE, HYDRATE, HYDRATE!

Tree of Heaven ??????????????

Juan V took the photograph posted above (which features a partial view of my urban terrace garden) this past Thursday (July 14th 2011), when he was at my place to help me take down my short-lived Honeysuckle Vine. The lovely vine had produced beautiful flowers which I featured in a few blog entries, including one which you may refer to by clicking here. My Honeysuckle Vine enjoyed climbing up the bamboo trellis (the bamboo trellis sans my Honeysuckle Vine can be seen in the top right hand portio of the photograph) which Juan V had built for me this past May, by using bamboo stakes that I had accumulated from my gardening endeavors in by-gone years. This is a fact, dear reader, which you may recall from a previous post, and that you may refer to by clicking here.  

In any event, my lovely Honeysuckle Vine is now gone — a victim of mildewy powder — which we think was caused by the exhaust from a newly installed fan in the window of the building directly west of me, as I stated in my blog entry this past Thursday, and if you'd like, you may refer to it by clicking here. 


An advantage of container gardens, such as mine, is that while it is sad to lose anything that I grow, things can be pulled out fairly easily, and another advantage of a container garden is that the things that grow in them can be moved around to meet their changing needs (in terms of sunlight as the sun shifts throughout the season). However, the problem of man-made things, such as the neighboring buildings's exhaust fan, always makes the herbs, plants, flowers, vines, shrubs , and trees which grow in an urban garden vulnerable.
Man-made things are not the only hazard in a New York City terrace garden that present a problem. So-called gifts from Mother Nature can be just as hazardous, such as the Ailanthus tree, — a tree which is planted in all the "back yards" of the buildings that surround me, and a tree which is easy to recognize by its leaves which are pictured below. 

Sometimes, the  Ailanthus tree, is referred to as The Tree of Heaven, for reasons unapparent to yours truly. I am not alone in my aversion for the Ailanthus tree. Ms. Karen Joyce Williams, an on-line editor, wrote about this tree in terms of its relationship to Betty Smith's 1948 young adult novel, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. In the novel, Smith (as on-line editor Williams points out), romanticizes the Ailanthus tree, making it "a symbol that floats through the novel" and using it as "a talisman in the eyes of the characters." However, Williams points out that, in fact, the Ailanthus tree is a very,"pervasive, strong-rooted interloper to the native landscape, elbowing, rooting, and edging out the hickory, sumac and ash trees" that are native to New York. (If you'd like to read Ms. William's full piece, please click here.)


Additionally — besides the Ailanthus tree's invasive nature — the web-worm pests that lurk on it build unsightly cob-like structures, which give it a sickly — even eerie —  quality, as in "Addams Family eerie", a "quality" that I discussed in a previous blog entry which I made in February of 2010, and that you may refer to by clicking here). This webby-appearance in its mild form can be seen in the photographs posted below.

However, to give it its due, at one time, the Ailanthus tree, did provide me with the inspiration for one of my kaleidoscopic photographic art prints, Trees From My Balcony, which can be seen below,

and which can be viewed more closely in the print collection pages of my web-site, Patricia Youngquist Photo-Art, where purchase information is available. I confess that I derived this inspiration from the Ailanthus tree, many, many years before I was a gardener, and I did not know about the disgusting, slimy worms that jumped from its pods, resting and nibbling on anything they could find in my beautiful garden, as evidenced in a "gotcha" photograph of one of the little worms on a leaf of my Paeonia suffruiticosa (Tree Peony).

I am not the only one who once received inspiration from the Ailanthus tree only to later find out that the tree was perhaps not worthy of my creative endeavors. The Ailanthus tree, and my aforementioned sentiment regarding it, was expressed in the Henry James novella, Washington Square, set in the West Village of Manhattan, in New York City, in the mid-nineteenth century.

James writes, "The ideal of quiet and of genteel retirement, in 1835, was found in Washington Square . . . it was here that you took your first walks abroad, following the nursery-maid with equal step and sniffing up the strange odor of the  Ailanthus-trees which at that time formed the umbrage of the Square, and diffused an aroma that you were not yet critical enough to dislike it as it deserved." 

"When I find myself in times of trouble . . . Mother Mary comes to meet me . . ." Consolation of Strawberry Fields

Yesterday, December the 8th, is the  Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary. It was also the 30th anniversary of John Lennon's murder, and just as it is said that people of a certain age remember what they were doing when they received the news that John F. Kennedy was assassinated (as I blogged about in a previous post), it is said that most people of a certain age will remember what they were doing when they received word that Lennon was shot and killed in New York City, just outside his home, a half a block away from where I now reside.

I had just moved to New York City nearly six months prior to this incident, and was subletting various places as I had not found a place to live. I did not even have a radio and didn't watch television. Therefore, I found out about his death very early the following morning, on December 9th, 1980 — thirty years ago today —when I was picking up clothes from Canopy Dry Cleaners (which was located on West Seventy-Second Street in Manhattan a block and a half west of Lennon's home in the Dakota).






The owners of Canopy Dry Cleaners were a Korean couple, and the wife always had her Korean Bible open on the counter and that day was no exception — other than she had a portable radio playing Lennon's song Starting Over very loudly. She was the one who told me he had died the previous night, the night of the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception from a gunshot. She recalled the irony of his famous lyrics (from Let It Be), "when I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to meet me . . ." and that John Lennon apparently hated the lyrics because of their "Christian undertones" although the song was written by Paul McCartney (for his departed mother Mary who died when he was a young boy).





Whatever the reason for McCartney penning the lyrics, or for Lennon's reaction to the song, Let it Be, would be the last album for  The Beatles and unwittingly made a statement about moving on in life. After  Lennon's death the conflicting rhetoric associated with this song filled the conversations of the thousands and thousands of people that filled the upper westside streets of New York City to recall their memories of John Lennon.





My main association with John Lennon's music at  that time was painful. Imagine (his big hit song of the 1970's) had been chosen by the student council of my graduating high school class — a place where I was always the unchosen one by classmates. I was not yet savvy enough to dismiss their ridicule, found no consolation in Imagine and preferred songs  such as Neil Diamond's rendition of He Ain't Heavy He's my Brother and its lyrics, "if I am laden at all, I am laden with sadness that everyones heart isn't filled with love for one another . . ." even though Imagine lyrics long cry out for "a brotherhood of man."





Besides there were moments that I hardly believed Lennon could "imagine no possessions" given his many homes. Still, it was shocking and sad to see someone murdered, especially someone who brought consolation to so many.





In particular, I remember the winter of 1964, when I was an elementary school student. In my class of 30 pupils, I was one of two students whose parents supported Barry Goldwater's run for the presidency (which he had officially announced in January of that year — five days before President Lyndon Johnson had announced his "war on poverty"in his State of the Union speech). I felt left out then also for being one of two. During those elementary school days, it was so important to be liked and I foolishly longed to be part of the majority — the "in" crowd. As it was, I was the target of bullying because I wore very thick glasses for my high myopia, and was experiencing the growths of lumps and bumps all over my face and body from Neurofibromatoisis.





At that time it seemed to me there was sadness and strife not just in my school life but also in my home life. My parents were constantly fighting, leaving my mother in tears, and the unrest was all around me. Additionally, most of the United States was still mourning the loss of John F. Kennedy, when along came the release of the record album, Introducing the Beatles. It has been said that these "four guys from Liverpool" seemed to be offering hope to our aching country when they appeared on The Ed Sullivan Show on February 23rd 1964 singing Twist and Shout, Please Please Me, and I  Want to Hold Your Hand. 





I suppose to some extent, many people wanted their hand held during such time of strife, and these four musicians from Liverpool, England, who in 1964, performed on the stage of The Ed Sullivan Theatre on 53rd Street and Broadway in New York City seemed the ones to provide hope for many. I am told the theater was overwhelmed by over 50,000 requests for tickets in a theatre that seated 703.





The numbers of people who followed The Beatles went up drastically after Lennon was shot, and in fact after he died, throngs of people stood outside the Dakota chanting with such fervor that his wife, Yoko Ono, sent word to the crowd that their chanting was keeping her awake. She asked they reconvene in Central Park for silent prayer, and declared that December 14 would be dedicated to silent prayer. 30,000 people gathered in Liverpool, and 225,000 gathered in Central Park, many remembering those days in 1964 when they first saw Lennon on their television sets when he appeared on the stage of The Ed Sullivan Theater. A number of years after this, I appeared on the stage of The Ed Sullivan Theater in a small role for the sit-com, Kate and Allie. Lennon's memory was still very much of the ambiance, though it had been so many years since he was on that stage.





He continues to be mourned across the world, but mostly in New York's Strawberry Fields across the street from the Dakota. Yoko Ono has provided many resources to preserve this area which is also very near to where I live. I have spent much time in Central Park in awe of the trees and plantings but also of the rocks — particularly those alongside paths near the entrance to  Strawberry Fields that border a road in Central Park, which  leads to the lake. The way in which the sunlight falls upon the massive rock has provided inspiration for one of my kaleidoscopic prints (Rocks by Strawberry Fields) seen at  the top of this post, which can be found in the print collections within the kaleidoscopic gallery on my web-site.

Upcoming Feast Days: Chanukah & Advent Shattering Darkness Part One: Chanukah

It is good to reflect on the symbols of light and hope that mark the Jewish Feast of Chanukah and the Christian Feast of Advent, a time when "Jews and Christians use the symbols of candles and lights to shatter the winter darkness."

(This quote is from an excerpt of Archbishop Prendergast's speech at a testimonial dinner honoring Rabbi Erwin and Mrs. Laura Schild.) Both of these feast days begin on different days every year and this year, Chanukah begins at sundown on Wednesday, December 1st 2010, while Advent begins tomorrow Sunday, November 28th 2010. Chanukah's celebration lasts eight days ending on December 9th 2010, and Advent lasts until December 24th 2010. Since I am involved with making invitations and greeting cards which are often used to commentate these holidays, I read many blogs about them and recently discovered Prendergast's speech on a blog posting by Deborah Gyapong. Gyapong writes "Chanukah means 'dedication,' and commemorates the rededication of the Temple in Jerusalem after its desecration by foreign forces and the Jews' victory over the Hellenist Syrians in the year 165 B. C. For the rededication celebration, the Maccabees desired to light the menorah and looked everywhere for oil, finally finding a small flask that contained only enough oil to light the menorah for one day. Miraculously, the oil lasted for eight days. The message of Chanukah may be found in the name of the holiday itself: dedication —not only of the temple building but of individual lives to the pursuit of high religious and human ideals."





There are many traditions associated with the Chanukah holiday which you can read about by clicking here. It is also a time for sending cards and giving gifts. I have found that clients enjoy using my kaleidoscopic note-cards (because of their intricate colored patterns) for this purpose. A sample of a card from this collection can be seen at the top of this post. It is called "Sunset in Riverside Park" and was discussed in length in a radio interview for 1010 WINS; in a segment for John Montone's New York. You may hear that interview by clicking here.

My kaleidoscopic card collection (and other selections) can be found in the unique store-front pages of my web-site, where purchase information is available. All of my kaleidoscopic cards are derived from original prints which can be ordered in a variety of sizes. I wrote about this in a previous blog entry, where I included an image of a framed art print, showing how it was seen in a gallery exhibition. I posted this image in that entry, and you may see it by clicking here to view.

If you celebrate Chanukah, I hope the promises of its season grant you the desires of your heart and fill you with peace. If you celebrate Advent, I will be posting about it tomorrow which is the First Sunday in Advent.

Whatever your feast is, the two I have mentioned here or something else, may it bring you and yours peace, and shed light to all nations. 

Nothing Small Minded about Small Business

Recently I read an article by Joanna Molloy and that article, Small-business owners say their plans can't be confined by city's tiniest work spaces, has caused me to I post this as a follow-up. Molloy writes,"Big-box stores may be all the rage in suburbia, but in this recession some canny business people have been running what could best be described as thimble stores."

Molloy then describes a few small business owners who are giving "new meaning to the term small business." She delineates the measurements of selected shop owners, including those whose "thimble store" measures 5.5 feet wide by 9 feet long, and another that measures 4 feet by 4.5 feet. These stores are located on Harrison Street and Warren Street respectively. In my neighborhood (the Upper West Side of Manhattan), there are a number of "thimble stores," and älskling, at 228 Columbus Avenue is one of them.





However, since it measures 8 by 24 feet,

äskling might be considered the "big-box" store of the thimbles. äskling is a boutique, owned by Vivianne Tvilling, where she sells women's clothing and accessories. There is not much room to try on clothes, or to have a seamstress pin them for alterations in her store, yet Tvilling brings another dimension to Molloy's small business article.



When Tvilling's "neighbor," Maya Schaper, sole proprietor of


The West Side Cheese Company (located at 228-A Columbus Avenue, one door south of Tvilling's äskling) was forced out of her shop this past October (two weeks before she'd intended to leave because of an inability to earn enough revenue for the $4,000.00 rent), Tvilling reached out to help Schaper, who was no stranger to business struggles.


While Schaper's  shop, 

The West Side Cheese Company, had the same dimensions as äskling, it was a  substantial downsize in space of Schaper's "famous"Maya Schaper Cheese and Antiques shop, which sold antiques and cheese. It had been located around the corner and two blocks south from äskling, on West Sixty-Ninth Street. That shop of Schaper's was used in the film, You've Got Mail, where it was converted into a bookstore for the story-line of that movie, which ironically addressed an attempted closing of a small business. Schaper's shop became somewhat of an icon because of the movie.


Unfortunately, it was not enough of an icon for Schaper's Sixty-Ninth Street shop to remain in business, and after trying many things to keep that shop afloat (renting part of the space to other proprietors to have their shop within hers, and

trying to convert it into a café), Schaper closed it in January of 2009.




I know Maya Schaper personally, and she is full of perseverance. It was not surprising to see her find a location eight months later in the late summer of 2009 — the "thimble store" next door to äskling. It was quite a downsize in space, but Schaper found a way to have both her antiques and array of cheeses in her new shop, The West Side Cheese Company. However, once there, Schaper had to downsize her downsize , which she did this past summer, by eliminating the sale of cheese altogether, and selling only antiques - even though her shop was called The West Side Cheese Company.




Ultimately none of the downsizing helped Schaper to stay in business, and so this past October 24th and October 31st, after she'd been forced out early she was help by her "neighbor" Tvilling. Tvilling did this by hosting an event in äskling's small quarters, where she served wine and appetizers, and invited her clients to browse and encouraged them to buy Schaper's remaining inventory of antiques, which Tvilling allowed to be put in äskling's small quarters. Many of Maya's antiques overwhelmed the clothing that äskling sells as you might imagine, but can also see for yourself, in the photo posted at the top of this entry which was taken by Tvilling.


The point to this post, however, is not whether Schaper's antiques overwhelmed Tvilling's women's and children's clothing; rather, it is to say that even in a deep recession, where a small business is likely to be losing revenue, one small business owner reached out to another almost in solidarity - even in a "thimble store's" constraints.






Moreover, just as "small-business owners say their plans can't be confined by city's tiniest work spaces," street vendors such as Helen, (whose business is Gifts by Helen) are also persevering.  Helen vends outside (not even in a "thimble store"), a block and a half north of äskling. She is there in all types of weather, selling beautiful hand-made gifts comprised of all natural materials such as this frame (posted below) which is beautifully hand-crafted with snake-like dried dark seedpods. The corners are covered with the dried brown leaves of the Waru tree.

As an artist, with a small business of my own, The Last Leaf Gardener, a division of Patricia Youngquist Photo-Art,  I don't even have a "thimble store," and due to New York City vending laws cannot set up shop on the street. However, I still support small businesses whenever I can. I've used Helen's "journals" (which are made of natural materials such as those seen in this photo-frame) to use as guest registry books at exhibitions of both my Kaleidoscopic and Black and White photography. This use of Helen's journals can be seen in the image (taken at my one woman show at The Borough of Manhattan President's Gallery) below, and my prints can now be viewed as well as purchased via my web-site.

And as a writer and gardener, I've used Helen's mini journals,

to keep notes on various projects. Helen sells an array of journals which can be viewed here, or you can find her vending at Columbus Avenue and Seventy-Second Street on the Northwest side. She is there Tuesdays through Fridays as well as Sundays from 10:00 AM to 6:00 PM, and her table is usually "parked" slightly south of a blue van as seen in the photo below:

Helen is also available to meet with people by appointment. To do this please phone 212.362.3756, and for security reasons, please mention you read about her on my blog. Like Tvilling in her reaching out to Maya Schaper, Helen reaches out to comrades in need. On most days, you will find hand-painted rocks bearing an extraordinary likeness to various cats. I will post something about these works of art on November 13, 2010, at which time I will have photographs of the creations which are done by the artist Phyllis Alden. Helen shares her vendor's table with Alden; as Tvilling did with her tiny shop helping Schaper.

Tvilling and Helen's small businesses contribute to an integral part of the Upper West Side, as I am certain the businesses that Molloy discusses in her article do for their respective "hoods" — Small businesses give New York City its color: Nothing Small Minded about Small Businesses.

"Upon whose bosom snow has lain........."

 I think that I shall never see,

A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest

Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,

And lifts her leafy arms to pray:

A tree that may in summer wear

A nest of robins in her hair:

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;

Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,

But only God can make a tree.

 The poet Joyce Kilmer created works that celebrated "the common beauty of the natural world" as seen in his widely known poem about trees from the poem (posted above) which most people "have to" memorize in elementary school. Like Joyce Kilmer, Ruth Orkin, a photographer known to most for her black and white photograph, American Girl in Italy, was also very inspired by trees as seen in Central Park South Silhouette, New York City. The trees from my balcony --the ones in between the buildings-- are not as inspirational, as they are Ailanthus altissima Trees (Trees of Heaven), and very prone to web-worms giving them an "Addams Family" look.

Though the Ailanthus altissima trees are prone to web-worms which are a battle in my urban garden, they do provide shade and privacy, and they are the trees from my balcony, which I have photographed and rendered into a kaleidoscopic print that can be seen in the Kaleidoscopic Gallery on my web-site, I have posted it below horizontally and the web-site has it vertically and the beauty of the Kaleidoscopic Prints is that they can be hung either way.

Sunset in Riverside Park, NYC, New York

I would like to take a moment to comment on the color photo work that I have done where I have used pinhole cameras to create photographic prints with kaleidoscopic patterns, These works are mysterious, seductive, and liberating. The intricate designs give the viewer permission to feel emotions. The mood created by these is meditative. A whisper, not a shout. The delicate patterns in this series of photographic prints add tranquility to meditation and yoga centers. They create a sense of calmness in public spaces. They enhance Pilates studios. And they add ambiance to your summer home in the Hamptons - the one where your study overlooks the Atlantic. They are inspiring; as seen in the rendition of  Sunset in Riverside Park, which is posted below:

On my web-site, Sunset in Riverside Park, can be seen with other kaleidoscopic prints.The photograph above was taken at my one woman exhibition that took place in the Art Gallery of the Manhattan Borough President's office. This exhibition took place a few years after my interview with John Montone (see posting of January 6th 2010) and is the print we discussed in that interview.



During my radio interview, I told John Montone that one of the aspects that I liked about my kaleidoscopic work is the ambiguity, which allows each viewer to have a very different reaction. For instance, everyone has a different reaction to a subset depending on where they are geographically, or mentally, when they see it. Responses to sunsets are as varied as Woody Allen's, "Today I saw a red and yellow sunset and thought, how insignificant I am! Of course, I thought that yesterday too, and it rained" to Clement of Alexandria's, "The Lord has turned our sunsets into sunrises," with equally different responses in between such as Philip James Bailey's, "The death of day, how beautiful," as well as Walter Mondale's, "At least when Ronald Reagan rode off in the movies into the fiery sunset, he didn't take us with him."


My goal as an artist is to present a photographic experience, where the viewer can have a very personal reaction. Please note that all of my kaleidoscopic works can be hung vertically or horizontally, depending on the effect you want to achieve.


For those of you who don't have the wall space, or the inclination to hang art work, many of my kaleidoscopic prints have been rendered in the form of all occasion greeting cards that are printed on high quality art-paper and individually signed by me. Both my cards and my prints are available for purchase on my web-site. 


These cards are a very chic way to announce that you have been snowed-in in your ski villa and are forced to spend time reading a novel by the fireplace, or to invite a friend to the Blessing of the Animals at Saint John the Divine, or to thank your co-worker for sharing a bottle of chilled Gavi to celebrate your raise, or simply to let your loved ones know that they are loved.

"It takes a sharp eye........or does it..........?" The Possible Influence of "Wink" -------- Fanny Sonnenschein's Family

This post is about the impact of my being legally blind, the impact this condition has on my photo-artistry, and to offer a follow-up to the two radio interviews that I've given on this subject. These interviews are posted on my web-site.

One interview is with Karen Ingenthron Lewis. She conducted this interview for W.B.A.I. Radio (a prominent FM station in New York City) for the program, The Al Lewis Show. Al Lewis was known for his role as Grandpa in the television series, The Munsters. The other interview is with John Montone. He conducted this interview for 1010 W.I.N.S. (a prominent AM station in New York City) for his news feature, John Montone's New York, where he posed the question (regarding legal blindness and photo-artistry), "It takes a sharp eye...or does it?"


In addition to my being born with NF (discussed in the second post), I came into the world with a severe form of myopia. The latter was complicated by my having a long eye-ball and a stretched retina, causing me to have extremely low vision. The prevailing attitudes about women who wore glasses during the year that I was born most likely shaped my mother's attitude about my wearing glasses. Her opinion also formed my view of having to wear them during childhood, which in retrospect, contributed to my artistic temperament.



My mother was a movie buff, and often told me that she had spent most of her high-school days at the cinema. I can still remember being told that the year before I was born, one of her favorite movies was How to Marry a Millionaire. This movie was a wide success, partly due to the character of the protagonist, Pola (played by Marilyn Monroe), and her attitude towards wearing glasses - preferring to walk into walls rather than risk a man seeing her wear them - and who was convinced that Dorothy Parker was right by saying, "men seldom make passes at girls who wear glasses."

The times, of course, have changed, and so have attitudes (to some extent) about wearing glasses. Some people even wear glasses - with no correction in them - to achieve a certain look. Obviously, had I been born at a different time, during a different mind-set, or if my folk's consciousness was raised when it came to low vision issues, my perception might have been totally different. The background I am giving here is to set the tone for what it was like to grow up at the time I did, and how that shaped my artistic endeavors. 
A few months before my fifth birthday, and the onset of kindergarten, my mother suggested that I start a hope chest, and began filling it with dishes that I might need if I was 'fortunate enough to have someone to marry.' My mother (who did not wear glasses) was already worried that I would not have a boyfriend since I wore thick glasses. Perhaps this is because when she was growing up, she was surrounded by many aunts who were single (although they did not wear glasses), and who were labeled 'old maids' - even though they longed to be married.


When I first went to kindergarden, I was not thinking of dishes that I might need to start a household. My perspective of having low vision was this: "I have worn very thick glasses with pointed pink frames since I was three. Once when I stayed overnight at a cousin's house, I wore them to bed - thinking if I had to get up at night to pee, I would surely need to find my way to the bathroom. When my cousin discovered this, she told everyone that I even needed glasses to see my dreams. That’s when the neighborhood kids started calling me 'Four Eyes' and 'Little Miss Coke-Bottles,' and saying I was 'blind as a bat.' I cannot tell Daddy this, because he wears thick glasses too, and I don’t want to hurt his feelings. Mom, who doesn't wear glasses, says I can take them off if I want people to like me. But I can’t do this, since without them I see very little - and what I do see is fuzzy. If I say I wish I could be like my sister and not wear glasses, she calls me a green-eyed monster. I do have green eyes so I suppose she is right."


It seems odd now, as I write this blog, to think that wearing glasses pained me so much, and looking at this snap-shot below, taken before those kindergarten days, you'd never suspect that wearing glasses made me feel unhappy. (I'm the one on the left.) For me, one of the perks of those pre-school days, is that I was not with so many other children, and so I didn't perceive there was anything 'wrong' with me (other than my mother's wish that I did not wear glasses and occasional teasing from my sister and cousin), until I started elementary school, where I became the target of cruel remarks.

My mother is the one who took this photo (most likely coaxing a smile) of me when I was with one of my cousins and my sister. My mother spent a lot of time looking at life through the view-finder of her Kodak-Instamatic plastic camera, preserving memories of how she wanted my sister and me to remember our childhood. Perhaps behind the lens, she was protecting herself from the sadness she must've felt, seeing others make fun of me. At one point, she even blamed herself for my low vision, saying that if she had not taken so many photos of me as a baby, and allowing the flash to go off in my eyes, my eye-sight might not have been so poor.


However, even if it was true that flashbulbs going off in my eyes could've resulted in low vision, it is obvious that I most likely inherited my low vision from a long line of folks on my father's (Albert Loth Youngquist), side of the family. He evidently also wore the 'Coke-Bottle' version of glasses when he was a child as seen in the photo below. (He is the one on the left.)

I don't know how he felt about his low vision, because he divorced my mother when I was a child, and I did not see him often. However, that might not have made much difference, because he was not one to share his feelings on many subjects. I do know, that unlike my mother, my father did not grow up around doting family members. What I know about my father are things I learned from his older sister, Evelyn Youngquist Swain, a celebrated ceramic artist whom I did not become acquainted with until I was in my thirties. When she sent me this photograph of my father's boyhood, she enclosed a note on the back, giving me her perception of the neglect he experienced in boyhood.

I am sharing these details with you in this blog because it should be kept in mind that the stories of my father are through Evelyn's perspective. Evidently, she was in high-school when he was born, and it is her perception that my father spent the first few years of his life not being able to see very much, and that his need for correction was ignored because their mother, Clara Loth Youngquist, had moved out of state - without her family - due to severe asthma problems. According to Evelyn, who claimed she received full parental attention, my father's need to wear corrective devices was ignored for a number of years. She would recount this story whenever I expressed memories about my childhood and the reactions I had experienced from others over my need to wear such thick glasses, and to the loneliness I had felt when my father moved out of the house. "What do you expect," she'd say, "He can't give you what he didn't get from his parents?"

Although my father had poor vision in both eyes, one eye performed much worse than the other. This can cause the eye with lesser vision to 'turn in' giving the appearance of being cross-eyed. I too have this manifestation, and once in the 1980's, I was asked by a commercial casting agent at Abrams Artists, in New York City, if I minded the fact that my eye turned inward. The agent did not wait for my answer, but proceeded to tell me, that during her high-school years, she made fun of someone whose eye did this.


Fanny 'Wink' Sonnenschein, my father's grandmother, and my great grandmother, had this affliction too. One of her eyes performed so much less than the other, that she was nicknamed Wink, by her mother, Rosa Fassel Sonnenschein - the "flamboyant editor and publisher of The American Jewess, the first (1895) independent American Jewish magazine, published by a woman" and dedicated to issues concerning women. Rosa is shown in the image below "on the cover" of her publication, a ploy Oprah Winfrey has done with putting herself on the cover of her "O" magazine. However, in Rosa Sonnenschein's case, I don't know if she put her photo on every issue of her publication as Oprah continues to do.

I am also not certain if Rosa had poor eye-sight as she is not wearing glasses in this photo, since poor eye-sight was associated with shame when I was a child. Perhaps if Rosa had an affliction, she hid it. However, from what I understand about Rosa, she was not shy about who she was and what was important to her as evidenced in the text printed on the top left corner of this postcard that I received in the 1980's. It reads:

"Rosa Sonneschein (1847-1932) was the flamboyant editor and publisher of The American Jewess, the first independent American Jewish magazine published by a woman for women. After every meal Sonnenschein relaxed with her favorite cigar, 'Between the Acts.' She had taken up the habit when her physician suggested that an after dinner smoke might prevent the indigestion she suffered from the constant dinner disputes with her husband. When her four children were grown, she terminated her disastrous marriage and turned to publishing as a means of livelihood. Her magazine boasted 29,000 subscribers during its brief run (1895-1899). She brought to the magazine her great story-telling ability along with a global view on people and events. Most articles were written by women and covered social and religious issues as well as literature. In one editorial she wrote 'The New Woman! The new Woman! That is the cry on every side. But where, oh where, lingers the New Man? Is he looming on the horizon, or will the feminine phoenix still have to content herself with the Old Specimen?' After attending the first Zionist Congress in Basle (1897), she wrote about women's disenfranchisement with the emerging socio-political movement. She saw no conflict between her feminism and her liberal Judaism, and was impatient with all who failed to recognize women's religious equality and their potential power as change agents in the community."


I was sent this card by my great uncle David Loth who was the son of Fanny 'Wink' Sonnenschein. He had heard about me through my ceramic-artist-aunt. By the time I met David Loth, I was in my thirties and he was eighty-six years old. I was able to meet him on only two occasions prior to his death, and he had much to say about this background, including the fact that Rosa's husband, Solomon Sonnenschein, was 'a child of the first night,' and that because of this, it wasn't thought he would go to rabbinical school, much less study at Jenna, or that he would be a successful Rabbi in Warasdin, Prague prior to coming to New York where he was a successful Rabbi, before founding a synagogue in Missouri.


My great uncle David Loth, was afflicted with very low vision, but was not deterred from a successful journalism career as he used devices to help him read.


Thankfully, as you may have heard in my interviews, I've also been able to adapt equipment to meet my needs, when it comes to my photo artistry and doing computer work. The details in this post are intended to set up a context for viewing my art work and to encourage others with a visual challenge to pursue endeavors despite the visual restrictions.