I am finally migrating my blog and portfolio into one site, and it has been a HUGE headache (explanation to follow). Although I have been blog-silent since 2014, I promise I have been tediously working on this the whole time. Updates to come, so please stay tuned!
Thanks,
Connie
This is my boss, Ben. He loves his oyster farm dearly, and I would argue probably as much as he loves his wife and kids. When I’m at our Boston shop, cooped up in the warehouse office sitting at a desk and reeking of fish, Ben is out on his boat harvesting oysters. I don’t know what’s worse: sitting at a desk for 8 hours a day or having to brave chilly winter winds and hauling heavy crates of oysters.
On special occasions, I make it down to Duxbury to capture the action on the farm. Today was one of those special days. When tides are super negative, the water recedes out of the bay and into the ocean, revealing the rich earth scattered with oysters. It’s mind-boggling to imagine the tide coming back in 12 feet higher and cloaking the oyster beds again until the next negative tide.
Today’s theme of “Water” and being on the farm was completely coincidental. It made me think of how we as humans rely on water in so many ways. People like my boss and I rely on water to support our livelihoods. Cities rely on water to flush sewage. Every single person on this planet relies on water to live. 783 million people in our world today do not have access to clean drinking water. We often take water for granted and never think twice about this precious resource, but when approached by a drought like the residents of central California, the importance of water really sinks in.
------
Side note: The results of the midterm elections were in this morning, and it’s clear that we will have a Republican-controlled Congress. There was a very scary NY Times poll showing an overwhelming 83% of Republicans who do not think climate change is a serious problem. I’m typically not into politics, but climate change is one issue I am pretty passionate about, especially working in the seafood industry. I believe we’re already seeing some repercussions of climate change including the effects on our freshwater supply, and unless we make changes, it will only get worse.
In doing today’s Photo 101 assignment, I reached an epiphany on why contemporary artists and art aficionados are so obsessed with process. I have always held the view that art should have some minimum requirements or standards, e.g. a canvas with a red dot should not be considered art. Gerhard Richter’s Blood Red Mirror (it’s literally a canvas painted in red) sold for $1.1 million. I never quite understood these one-colored canvases until I took my “Street” photo above.
My initial idea for today was to get an open shutter shot since it’s not something I commonly do, and this Photo 101 course is all about experimenting. As I was taking my shot on the bridge, my bus pulled up to the bus stop, so I ran to catch it. My shutter was still open, and it captured little bits of details illustrating my short journey. This whole back story is not explained by looking at the photo, and to be honest, I don’t think it’s a great photo, but when considering the process and background of how this photo came to be, I find it ten times more interesting.
An artist may think his art is interesting because he created its context. By sharing this context (i.e. background, methods, intentions, etc.) with the audience, bad art can potentially become great art. The context provides a moment of clarity for the viewer, and this “aha, that’s why he did it” realization allows the viewer to forgive the artist for delivering subpar work. The work represents more than what meets the eye, the viewer thinks. Maybe art today is not about the art itself anymore, but rather about the art of making art.
Home. It’s a really interesting concept to think about. For the past six years of my life, I have never lived in one location for more than a year and a half. I don’t think college really counts, and I was always gone every summer.
When I moved to Seattle for my first job after college, I struggled to call Seattle “home.” My best friend reminded me that it was like deja vu because I made the same comments when I left Los Angeles, my hometown, for school across the country in Boston.
I’m back in Boston now. And moving across the country again was tough, much harder than the last because I truly fell in love with Seattle and made it my home. Now reflecting, the definition of “home” has changed so much for me over the past few years. Having lived in LA, Boston, Minneapolis, Charlotte, and Seattle, I realize it’s no longer location based. It’s cliche, but I finally understand what they mean by “Home is where the heart is.”
I made the decision to move back to Boston to be closer to my boyfriend. We were embarking on new journeys, and it was important for us to support each other by being there for each other emotionally and physically. “Home” now is wherever he is. And one day, he promises that “home” will be wherever I am.
We moved into our first one-bedroom apartment in Cambridge and have made it our physical home complete with a projector and a 84″ screen. There are days when he works late, and I find that our home is a little empty, but it’s the nights when he walks in with his hole-ridden socks when our home is complete.
Last weekend, Jonathan and I had some friends over, so we decided to make some Hawaiian food! Even though Jonathan is from Hawaii, he’s never actually cooked Hawaiian before…
I had thought about making Lau Lau a while back, but couldn’t find taro leaves in Boston, so at some point, I had flown home to LA to pick up the closest thing I could find: dry lotus leaves. I packed them back in a hanging suit case just to keep them flat… so finally putting them to good use was not a bad idea at all.
Jonathan tackled making the Lau Lau, which is pork and butterfish steamed in taro leaves (in this case lotus leaves), the Lomi Lomi Salmon, and tuna poke, while I handled the MALASADAS!
As you recall, I had made malasadas once before, and I was not prepared. But this time, I knew exactly what I was getting myself in to, and lo and behold, they turned out to be beautiful, golden, round donuts!
We’re booked to return to Hawaii this coming January, and I will have a chance to go back to Leonard’s again. One day, I will become a malasada master just like him, but for now, I gotta learn how he injects that coconut cream…