As part of the faculty for the PopTech Social Innovation Fellows program (they are an incredible group) that is brought together before the PopTech conference, I am staying a little above Camden, Maine, near Lincolnville Beach.
In the morning, it is quiet around our wooded cabins and quiet on the beach.
Yesterday I drove to the Camden Farmers’ Market, noticing the paint wearing away on the road, and smiling as I approached the murmur that always accompanies local food vendors setting up;
next week marks the penultimate market for the season, and wonderful local goods were on offer—I almost hugged this seller for obvious reasons (I am a calcium fiend), and the milk itself is the yellowish color and thickness of fresh cream.
My friend and colleague Keryn arrived and introduced me to the smell of Sweet Jenny,
and in her wonderfully energetic way, began to talk warmly about the dedicated sellers and local festivals—all reasons I’d like to be in Camden more often.
At Peacemeal Farm, I bought tiny brussel sprouts and listened while locals
debated which type of potato was the right choice for specific fish,
near jugs of cider,
papery bouquets,
and tables selling vegetables and wool.
Impossible to pick one of the many colored scarves,
soon dancing began, the music competing with a wandering flutist.
I was more interested in the charcuterie, considering this soppressata and deciding to try the salami with orange peel,
as reaching into the cooler with the beautiful bacon, after making the seller laugh that I had eaten a pig ear sandwich once (he was selling them to feed to dogs).
On the way out, there were baskets perfect for filling with market produce,
and dried arrangements with milkweed,
hard squash and soft pumpkins,
and lovely mushrooms still joined in the large mass they grow in on trees.
Out of the pastries at Atlantic Baking Company,
I picked a swirl that held apples and spices in its crispy layers, and spreading it with local raw butter,
sipping that beautiful raw milk, I headed back to sit and listen to the waves…
In curating the symposium, David Sasaki also created “An Outsider’s Guide to Linz.” This post is an extension of his excellent guide with video and a heavy emphasis on food. (You can also find places David marked in Dopplr’s Social Atlas for Linz with geocoordinates.)
My Linz trip began with a burger in Cafe Walker that David didn’t mention would arrive with hidden corn kernels,
and later that night, through the drizzle as I walked out of the Haufplatz (the main square), I spotted my friend Seth Hunter.
Joining him and his fellow MIT artist Noah, we were off to fetch their bags from their installations, then to Italian restaurant Bigoli in nearby OK Platz (order the gnocchi), where Seth taught us how to make origami butterflies and we talked about the food of the future:
Back in the Haufplatz, young dancers in white unitards tucked glow sticks into their hair,
and then the lights went off, darkening the entire square, the better to see the glowing dancers move glowing balls to the other side of the street.
Friday morning, the market bustled in the same square (so much speck!),
and I bought a superlative cream-filled pastry with a hidden meringue layer,
thinking about food photography as I prepped for my talk (video) at the Ars Electronica: Cloud Intelligence Symposium the following day.
While the rain continued, I went to see the Ars exhibits for inspiration. A few of my favorites (also see my friend Ethan’s favorites):
a typewriter of images:
open sailing, a project about a floating community that models sustainability,
an LED abacus,
a skeeball marimba installation,
Arthur Ganson’s piece with scraps of paper winging their way,
and my very favorite, the geotextile mesh “Hylozoic Grove” by Philip Beesley,
that sensitively moved as you entered its translucent, shimmering space, brushing against branches.
Later that night, artists shrinkwrapped themselves as part of the Ars Gala,
and David toasted to the following “arscloud” symposium in classic style,
I had a wonderful tagliatelle at Cafe Lentos (highly recommend) with local chanterelles soaked in butter with steak and crunchy bits of sea salt, while Ethan had a Sicilian pasta with a large sardine,
and outside, the Ars Center pulsed with light patterns into the night.
In the clear morning, I could see rooftops and the Danube sparkling,
before I meandered around the organic grocery to find yogurt and granola to fly through last-minute revisions;
as part of the day’s proceedings at Ars on cloud intelligence, we asked all the “arscloud” symposium participants to hack their lunch (using fancy fast food as a model), and the winner made a CloudWurst (he explains):
After a full day, I opened my window to watch people mingle next to the river,
happy and tired from a long day of thinking about clouds and intelligence with this smart group,
and I stopped by a few sweets vendors on the way to group dinner,
purchasing a tangy yogurt cream pastry,
before traditional Austrian food (I had a black seafood risotto) at Alte Welt,
and then fireworks
and fire works (listen for Juliana’s take on this particular pile of flames).
The next morning, I wandered Linz, peering through open doorframes,
and admiring the fineness of the pale architecture (that almost has an icy tone to it, heavy on the glass),
watching those walking,
under crosses,
and past buildings with glittering, embedded religious mosaics,
on my way to the park,
and the buildings beyond,
On my way back, I found door handles shaped like pretzels,
more traditional Austrian for lunch,
and traditional dress to complete the lesson.
Before a trip up the mountain for dinner, I had gelato with David (hear what he discovers his favorite flavor is),
then it was time to meet gnomes,
follow them on signs,
to this restaurant,
where we all liked the pumpkin seed cheese best,
until the first course at the castle arrived,
consuming all our attention until (at least for me), this table sat down,
and there was birthday fire.
The next morning held pastries with Ethan and David,
this last is David’s favorite, and he felt it would power a longer morning run in the Austrian hills with Teddy of Project Diaspora (a former Ugandan Olympic hopeful in the decathlon),
and asking slightly less of other pastry, I purchased the Brandl Bakery version of the famous Linzer torte for the office, heading off to discover shaggy pastel marshmallows,
glistening jellies,
and an exhibition of recovered mosaic pieces from places of worship,
that included twinkling ships.
From the mosaiced currents, I opted for a fish sandwich a few doors down,
and wandering further, like a siren song, organ chords drew me into an old cathedral,
where I watched sunlight fill more and more of the pews as an unseen organist played on into the afternoon, sounds I carried with me back to Brooklyn…
I’m starting with the men and women in the mirrors; at the Brooklyn Flea this afternoon, my good friend Laura (who is in town for a few days, we always have adventures) and I ventured toward new treasures and reflective objects.
Fresh from a walk through a rollicking street fair in Carroll Gardens where the entire band accompanied the drummer on air bongos (this is what you might call the “Rock Band Effect”),
we walked through the DUMBO Farmers’ Market toward the Flea,
which is, as advertised, held under the Brooklyn Bridge.
and met up with my friend Eudie from high school, who I ran into the other day in Park Slope.
It’s so nice to meet up with people years later and discover they are even more fabulous now than they were then.
As the lobster roll line snaked around most of the vendor stalls (next time!), we opted to try raw chocolate ice cream on dry ice (you can choose between cashew and coconut bases) and wander the flea.
Before leaving, we found sparkly slippers to keep easing on down the road (that Laura and I began Saturday night at a midnight showing of “The Wiz” at BAM punctuated with wild applause for MJ as the sweet Scarecrow)…
And before that screening, I admired the emerald trees as I walked through Prospect Park to the Farmers’ Market at Grand Army Plaza on Saturday morning,
charmed by the flowering lemon thyme
and sage.
Heading out with my friend Matt (a fellow member of the Park Slope Food Coop), we admired the glass seltzer bottles in Ronny’s Seltzer truck (a Brooklyn delivery tradition),
before hopping the ferry to Governors Island to see the PLOT09 art exhibition,
where everyone seemed pulled toward giant chimes,
that we could still hear faintly as we opened apple chips from the market and sipped strawberry cider (actually very good) along with “Womanchego” cheese.
I looked up at the trees,
and listened to the sounds of families playing games, this little girl toying with a bike.
Old-fashioned music awaited near a reception for the PLOT09 opening,
and children were similarly smiling and happy on a beautiful wooden play structure (I like the exposed dowel ends below) and the nearby miniature golf course on another part of the island.
My favorite piece in the show was Edgar Arceneaux’s installation (Edgar is one of the Knight Pulse/GOOD L.A. Community Leaders tapped a few months back) of a machine that transmitted eerie sounds at low frequencies from a closet in one of the old houses with flaking drywall that ring the island.
For many years, Edgar has been working on the Watts House Project (”a collaborative artwork in the shape of neighborhood redevelopment”), and so it was especially appropriate for him to suggest disquiet in such a way that could be reversed, or at least removed at the end of the exhibit.
Is it the sounds without and within that bring comfort in a house, that ease the mind? I listen to my new Brooklyn neighbors laughing, steel drums, and the thum-thum of the train as I fall asleep lately…
Why are there so very many spider webs on kthread?
This is how my day begins—with morning webs draped across cacti like necklaces tossed off by flappers, the many strands tangled after a night’s revelry (certainly explains the dew),
or hovering like white noise,
catching stray new light as though a cornet,
and often working from underneath, the spiders tool coded strands,
attentive only to the attached lines, while I am easily distracted by the circular and hexagonal bokeh that imprint the air like softened measures from celestas…
