Woman of Steele approved person, Jenny, shows off her guns, and some Teddy Grahams (casual), at Harris Teeter
Breakfast this morning. Raisin brain mixed with Honey Nut Trader-Os.
I know what you’re thinking. When someone begins to post banal pictures of cereal on her blog, it’s time to jump ship. However, I was thinking about how the last time I was home, I
made poured Raisin Bran and Cheerios for breakfast, and my mom said she’s never seen anyone else besides my father and his children mix breakfast cereals (it’s usually more than two brands per bowl).
When I say “I’m turning into my parents,” I mean it in a good way. Can’t wait to see them when I’m home in two weeks for the Charleston International Film Festival! Buy tickets to see my first film The Intern and The Dumpster on May 19th at 7pm at Cinebarre Mt. Pleasant! The director is known to be charming and humble in person.
It was a chilly day in Charleston, folks! Actually, it warmed up a little after noon. But it was pretty chilly this morning. What’s that, everyone in New York isn’t watching the excellent Ang Lee film, The Ice Storm, but there’s a really awful Ice Storm pummeling most of the country? Huh, My apologies, it was lovely day in Charleston, SC! No, I’m not wintering in Charleston, Emilie, but excellent question!
Well, apparently, I still dress in various shades of black and grey even when I leave Brooklyn. I wore a blue shirt on Sunday, I swear! With a red scarf! Daring, I know.
I borrowed a very soft, merino wool sweater from Banana Republic from my Dad while he was at the gym. I think he might start locking his closet when I’m around. I appropriate his running shirts because they are soft and mostly vintage at this point. I’m also wearing a gray circle scarf from Banana Republic, a Christmas gift from my Mom, and a fake (it pains me to admit) leather jacket. It’s made by Levi’s, and I scored it at Urban Outfitter’s. My jeans are the skinny skinny jean from Madewell (shocker) in abrasion wash. They are really soft and comfortable. They should probably rename that color. I am also wearing a pair of wedges from Madewell. Madewell shoes often go on sale, look more expensive then they are, and always garner compliments, the trifecta of shoes in humble opinion.
If my college self, who only shopped at vintage stores and scoured ebay for one of a kind vintage dresses, could see me now, she’d shake her head. But I guess that’s the thing about getting older. You want your clothes to last longer than the next Bonnaroo (and not smell like someone else).
But the most important part of this picture has nothing to do with my clothes. The man on my left is T.C. Steele. A self-portrait, Steele, was an American Impressionist painter, member of The Hoosier Group, a talented collective of Indiana painters, and my Great-Great Grandfather. And I, his Great-Great granddaughter, just made him suffer through my attempt at fierce face. T.C. Steele and the American Impressionists were contemporaries with French impressionists, but they are not as well known, while no means unknown. T.C. Steele’s studio and home, The House of The Singing Winds, is State Historic Site and Museum outside of Indianapolis. However, I find their, and especially Steele’s art (no bias), to be quite remarkable, and I’m particularly fond of his stunning paintings from when he lived and studied in Germany. He once painted Dachau, which was an artist colony before the Nazi’s appropriated it for a concentration camp. It is a chilling reminder of both the best and worst of humanity’s capabilities.
T.C. Steele is most known for his Indiana landscapes. In everything he painted, however, he was a master of light. And while I can’t draw a stick figure to save my life, I’d like to think some of my artistic temperament comes from him. He was an incredibly poignant writer, as is my oldest sister Sarah, a published novelist and poet.
“It has seemed to me, that the greatest of all arts is the art of living.”- T.C. Steele
Over the weekend, my mom and I saw Charleston’s Jazz Orchestra’s first concert of the new year, Jazz on The Screen, and Woo-Wee, it was a Good Time! The first half of the program consisted of compositions from films, while the second half was devoted to music from television. I learned that the Austin Power’s theme song is actually an old Quincy Jone’s composition and danced in my seat (I may have kicked my neighbor) to the Muppets’ theme song, immediately followed by the music from Batman with conductor and trumpeter, Charlton Singleton, holding up WAM! and SPLAT! signs to boot.
After the concert, we decamped to Rue De Jean, and over shared sushi, Frisee salads for both, and more white wine for me, made my mom tell me stories about some of the men she dated before she met my father, life in Greenwich Village in the 60’s (a frequent request), and my Dad playing the banjo at their friends’ house after their first date. Awww….
Hope and Union Coffee Co., Charleston, SC
If you need me, I’ll be in the corner, writing, sweating, listening to The Black Keys, and generally being pleased with myself.
Made the front page of the local section of The Post and Courier. I’m the one who looks like she’s in agony, which is more or less accurate. This was maybe the third time I have gone running since this summer, and I ran the first mile in 8:30, which is a respectable time for someone who trains and/or runs frequently (i.e., not me). Whether it was knowing how fast I ran the first mile due to the clocks at the mile markers or the fact that my body can’t sustain that speed, the second mile in the Carolina sun made me make faces exactly like the one pictured.
Regardless, The Turkey Day Run has become one of my favorite holiday traditions. It’s a 5K race through some of the most beautiful parts of downtown Charleston, and it raises money for charity while having the added bonus of making you feel better about that third helping of stuffing and second helping of pie.
photo by Wade Spees
Gone To (South) Carolina in My Mind…(I will be there physically by lunchtime tomorrow).
The photos are from a travel article I wrote for elephant journal on touristy, yet mindful things to do in my hometown, the place Rhett Butler abandons Scarlett for, declaring “I’m going back to Charleston…I want to see if somewhere there isn’t something left in life of charm and grace.” He’s right, even if he did rape Scarlett, his wife, in Gone With the Wind…oh the land of Dixie.