Women's March (signs of protest)

Spent the evening at Zygote Press with over a hundred other Cleveland-area sisters-in-arms making screen and letterpress posters for the upcoming Women's March on Washington.

The electricity and excitement is brewing. The march is just eight days away. You can feel something is going to shift. Something wonderful and powerful and moving is going to change the course of history. Maybe I'm reaching. Maybe I'm just hoping for something, anything to ease my fears. 

Last night's event was such a meaningful and collective experience -- standing shoulder to shoulder with all these beautiful souls. All of us preparing for the fight -- our peaceful protest against a pitiful wanna-be dictator and his authoritarian regime.

Anyone who knows me well knows that I have a love affair with words. I also appreciate their power. Which is why making these posters meant so much to me. 

Here are a few snapshots from last night:

In eight days, the good fight begins.


Shepard Fairey's protest art.

New beginnings

You know that saying about one door closing and another one opening? 

Well, it's the happy circumstance I currently find myself in. I recently accepted an amazing opportunity with a strategy and design firm here in Cleveland called shark&minnow, where I am doing all things content related: branded storytelling, content creation and curation.

This new gig means I won't be posting on love,-j. as frequently. But do stop by every so often. 

As always, thanks for reading!

love, -j.    


On networking and outfits.

Believeland

We joined over a MILLION people downtown to celebrate the city of Cleveland's first championship in 52 years!!

It felt like the whole world descended upon The Land. Absolute craziness getting downtown but we made it, thanks to a lot of perseverance and a benevolent small business owner who let us park in his back lot. I mean, look at how many people there are in this aerial photo!

We stood amongst the sea of millions for a good three hours before the parade made its way to us. Thank goodness for Daddy's strong shoulders. Caden got to see Coach Lue, Kyrie, JR Smith and King James himself. In the flesh. I don't think he'll forget this year for the rest of his basketball-loving life.

Here are some of my favorite snaps from yesterday:

And my favorite photo of LeBron:

Opening photo by Peter Larson for VICE.

#OnefortheLand

Dear Cavs,
Thank you for winning this for Caden. He always believed in you. You made history, you beat the odds, you proved that the underdog should never be underestimated. You are the champions. And tonight, he feels like one, too.

Love, 
The Salaffs.


The king did it for CLE.

Like a lion

You watch those nature documentaries on the cable? You see the one about lions?

You got this lion, he's the king of the jungle. Huge mane out to here. He's laying down under a tree in the middle of Africa. He's so big. He's so hot. He doesn't want to move.

Now, the little lion comes. They start messing with him. Biting his tail. Biting his ears. He doesn't do anything. Now the other animals they notice this and they start to move in. The jackals. Hyenas. They're barking at him. Laughing at him. They nip his toes and eat the food that's in his domain. They do this and get closer and closer and bolder and bolder. 

Until one day, that lion gets up and tears the sh*t out of everybody. 


Still in his prime. 

Egyptian phantoms (#ArtReview)

Pharaoh: King of Ancient Egypt at the Cleveland Museum of Art
By Christopher Alexander Gellert for love, -j.

As a boy, I wandered galleries lined with elaborate unearthed coffins -- dollhouse versions of chattel (human and material) to haul with you to the afterlife, the rows of stiff humorless shirtless martinets mid-stride, bedecked in serpentine headdress. I did not radiate the fascination of some of my schoolfellows. 

Picking my way through the Cleveland Museum of Art’s new exhibition, Pharaoh: King of Ancient Egypt, I felt like one of the cats on display: stony, indifferent, curious. Yet as I slinked through the galleries I surprised myself in wonder.

The show, organized with the British Museum and currently on display through June 12, contains admirable works of great beauty and remarkable craftsmanship. Seeing them through my adult eyes gave me a new understanding of my childhood disenchantment. One cannot escape that in this exhibition every great piece of sculpture, every fantastic monument, was built in the god-cult of a tyrant. The pharaoh's court, his pretended divinity, was the lodestone to Egyptian belief. We might remember that Egypt’s great monuments were immense mausoleums -- the entire culture revolved around a seemingly morbid fascination with life after death, and little concern for this one. It’s at these kinds of thoughts that one sympathizes with Mohammed crashing every idol in Mecca to pieces. But this impulse precludes us from enjoyment and appreciation of works of great power – we need not embrace them. And all of these same objections might be leveled with equal justice at Christian art.

And yet, we cannot approach art -- even ancient art -- as neutral apolitical relics. If art is an expression of culture, it will reflect the political and social realities of that culture. It’s not for nothing that the curators chose the title, Pharaoh: King of Ancient Egypt -- art in Egypt was pharaonic Art. Each of the 10 galleries is organized around a different aspect of court life and political theater. It reminds us that this art was used to enforce the political order, and instill faith and obedience.

The enforcement of eternal order has its parallel in the rigid orthodoxy of style. If so much of Egyptian art looks the same, we shouldn’t be surprised -- the Kingdom of Heaven is after all immutable, and if the face of the gods were to change that might implicitly provoke questions that were better not asked. (Though, with the advent of the Middle Kingdom the veneer had begun to crack under political instability, and fissures are observed in the art -- by the New Kingdom you encounter a degree of fluidity that would have been unthinkable in the old.) And from the doggerel tone individual pieces break out and astonish, and by very dint of their nature -- cracked, chipped and looted fragments -- they are incapable of fulfilling their initial purpose as propaganda, disarmed in carefully labeled glass vitrines. History has denuded them of their political import, and frees us to enjoy them as aesthetic objects, even if the shadow of their past hangs over them.

The massive Hathor capital that greets the visitor at the beginning of the exhibition speaks to us in the vulnerability etched across its face, its broken nose and bovine ears, full eyes -- its missing body, and yet even maimed it conjures awe at the civilization that erected it.

It is a loss I do not mourn, and yet I still cherish these shards.

Pharaoh: King of Ancient Egypt haunts us through June 12. An accompanying photography show (through May 24^th) in the contemporary galleries peeks at the leporine reproduction of images of Ancient Egypt, its suffusion into our culture.

Photos courtesy of Christopher Alexander Gellert and the Cleveland Museum of Art.

I love books

I could spend all day inside an independent bookstore.

At Loganberry Books in Cleveland's historic Larchmere neighborhood, there are over 100,000 volumes, countless genres, first editions, rare finds, collector's items, thousands upon thousands of titles, new books, used ones. I don't want to leave any stone unturned. 

Like I said, I could spend all day getting lost in the most wonderful way.


15 best books for your career. (Cup of Jo)

First signs of spring

I went for a walk today and look what beauties came out to say hello. These lovely little crocuses are Mother Nature's delight. Crisp white, delicate, symbol of the end of Winter, shepherd of the Spring. 

My soul is blooming again. 

                    Down in the solitude under the snow,
                    Where nothing cheering can reach me;
                    Here, without light to see how to grow,
                    I'll trust to nature to teach me

                    I will not despair -- nor be idle, nor frown,
                    Locked in so gloomy a dwelling;
                    My leaves shall run up, and my roots shall run down,
                    While the bud in my bosom is swelling.

                    Soon as the frost will get out of my bed,
                    From this cold dungeon to free me,
                    I will peer up with my little bright head,
                    And all will be joyful to see me.

                    Then from my heart will young petals diverge,
                    As rays of the sun from their focus;
                    I from the darkness of the earth shall emerge,
                    A happy and beautiful Crocus!

                    Many, perhaps, from so simple a flower,
                    This little lesson may borrow,
                    Patient today, through its gloomiest hour,
                    We come out the brighter tomorrow.

                    -"The Crocus' Soliloquy" by Hannah Flagg Gould


Spring makeover.

Simply Delicious Pies, 11:09am

Happy Pi Day!

Perhaps there is no better way to celebrate the ratio of the circumference of a circle to its diameter (3.14159) than with a scrumptious slice of pie. 

For sisters Brittany Reeves and Beth Kaboth of Simply Delicious Pies, Pi Day is their second biggest baking day of the year -- second only to Thanksgiving. 

One step into their Shaker Heights shop and you'll be greeted with the delicious smells of butter, sugar, apple, cherry, peach and blueberries. And don't be surprised if you leave with more pies than you intended: a hand-crafted chicken pot pie, a savory-sweet bacon apple cheddar quiche or a sweet potato pie made with hand-peeled sweet potatoes roasted on site. Every recipe is developed by Brittany in the kitchen. Every pie is made from scratch. Real fruit. Nothing from a can.

"Cooking and baking growing up is how I got started," says Brittany, who opened Simply Delicious Pies with sister Beth in 2012. "When my older sisters had sleepovers, I would make omelets for everyone in the morning. I also remember mixing up a batch of Tollhouse chocolate chip cookies with my middle sister Kate. We would pretend to be on a cooking show together, talking to the 'camera' while we measured out our ingredients. I'll admit, I may still do this on occasion when I'm making things in the bakery."

Who: Brittany Reeves and Beth Kaboth
What: Sisters, best friends, partners, co-owners, pie artists   
Where: Simply Delicious Pies 
Best thing about working together: "One of my favorite parts of working with Beth is seeing how our relationship helps us work as a team," says Brittany. "Knowing each other's personalities -- strengths and weaknesses -- gives us a unique dynamic that you only get from being sisters."

"The unspoken communication," says Beth. "Because we grew up together and know one another so well, we inherently understand each other's needs and expectations. I think we often take for granted how much goes unsaid between the two of us. Yet [the work] still gets done."

What is each sister's role in the bakery?: "Britt is the baker and the head of the kitchen and back of the house; she pretty much leads the show as she has the baking experience and professional kitchen experience," says Beth. "My role is more retail/front of the house, marketing and community/social outreach. I have a background in these aspects and worked as a server and bartender for over a decade, so our restaurant experiences complement each other."  

Favorite pie to eat?: "Strawberry Rhubarb, hands down! After so many years of making pies I don't get the urge to eat any very often," says Brittany. "But rhubarb is a summer seasonal pie so it isn't around all the time. I always look forward to the first batch of rhubarb. The sweet strawberries mixed with the tart rhubarb is perfect."

Favorite pie to bake?: "I love putting together cream pies," Brittany says. "It's a little more artistic since we get to pipe whipped cream rosettes and embellish with different toppings. I can even customize the cream pies by writing on the top with chocolate ganache. Kind of like a birthday cake, but with pie!" 

"I actually have very limited cooking abilities. In fact, before we opened the store, I couldn't so much as boil water or make toast," Beth confesses. "It is a testament to Britt's skills that she has taught me how to make everything on our menu since we opened Simply Delicious Pies."

Shaker Heights residents: the Shaker PTO is teaming up with Simply Delicious Pies to celebrate Pi Day. For every pie purchased this week, $1 will be donated to the Shaker PTO Council. Click here for details. 

Still movement (#ArtReview)

UNFIXED: The fugitive image at the Transformer Station
By Christopher Alexander Gellert for love, -j.

          “The contingency of photography confirms that everything 

          is perishable; the arbitrariness of photographic evidence 

          indicates that reality is fundamentally unclassifiable."

          -Susan Sontag

          Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!

          Nothing beside remains...

          -Percy Bysshe Shelley, “Ozymandius”

I’m almost hesitant to label UNFIXED: The fugitive image as a photography exhibition. The show, currently on exhibition until April 3 at the Transformer Station (the Cleveland Museum of Art’s West Side annex), resists traditional assumptions about photos as pictures. Instead, it asks us to approach photography, and video, as a process that does not immortalize, but like all things inevitably dies. That death is written into the works encourages us to treat them as living objects, to find beauty in their movement, meaning in their brief passage, as in our own.

Fred Bidwell, one of the gallery’s co-founders, with his wife Laura, opened a recent gallery talk by suggesting that photography has outgrown the need to try to prove itself as an art form. Photography can finally let loose.

But if photographers no longer concern themselves with respect and acceptance from the establishment they now take for granted, they are threatened by their own success, the sheer volume of photographic images— a world in which everyone wishes to be a photographer, and our immediate thought on seeing a thing is to ask ourselves if it would make a good photo. 

Susan Sontag eloquently addressed these difficulties in her prescient work On Photography. UNFIXED: The fugitive image shrugs its shoulders at the hoary debates between photography and art and the ubiquity of image in our lives. It disregards the question by effacing it.

The first piece in the exhibition, Phil Chang’s series of unfixed silver gelatin photograms, reveals the memory and the trace of the rectangular forms imprinted on the negative that began to disappear within hours on opening night when the image took flight after the plastic seal had been broken and the photographs were exposed.

“He’ll supply us with two extra copies,” Mr. Bidwell ribbed during his gallery talk. “We can experience this change two more times.”

We all appreciatively chuckled, but the conceit itself serves as a kind of haunting joke about the transience of all things and the folly at our longing for permanence. We collect the world through photos. Sontag defined the photographer as a Baudelaire’s flâneur, the wanderlust plagued promeneur in search of the picturesque.

“Everything that the big city threw away, everything it despised, everything it crushed underfoot he categorizes and collects,” Sontag writes in On Photography, quoting from “The Painter of Modern Life” to articulate the character of the flâneur/photographer. She opposes this vision of the photographer to the painter, and the conflation of the two by the mob. “Some democratic writer ought to have seen here a cheap method for disseminating a loathing for history and for painting among the people,” she argues. And yet, some of the images in the exhibition resemble paintings more than they do photographs.

A pair of twin triptychs by John Opera in the larger gallery space illustrates this slippage. The works are not photographs exactly but anthotypes (images developed using the photosensitive materials of plants). Each work pairs a portrait in silhouette, a light shadow against a darkened background in the same color, with two progressively larger images of paired twin radials sprouting from a central axis, recalling mirrored fans. Mr. Bidwell introduced the artist by saying, “John is a photographer who thinks like a painter, and I think maybe he’ll actually stop using photography altogether and become a painter.”

Opera’s work brings to mind color field painters like Morris Louis and Kenneth Noland, who played with warm tones in the space of the canvas. It is neither a photograph, as we conceive one, nor a work of art to be tended and preserved. The plant dyes Mr. Opera used (beet and blueberry) are perishable. His work will escape conservators and posterity.

Art is no longer an eternal monument, but something that breathes.

In the next room Tom Persinger plays in “The Past,” “The Present,” and “The Future.” “The past” is a blue field cyanotype fixed and immutable, “The Present” develops throughout the life of the show as the agent continues to be exposed to light and the image evolves. “The Future” is blank, virgin paper with a pencil outline. Persinger will round out the show's closing on April 03 with a gallery talk and performance.

UNFIXED: The fugitive image is on display now through April 3. I strongly suggest you witness the tremendous power of the works in the exhibition for yourself.

(If you go, consult the online catalog at tsguide.org as you wander to offer some needed perspective.)

Images courtesy of the Transformer Station.

CWRU School of Law, 10:56am

Juliet Kostritsky comes alive in the classroom. 

No wonder students at Case Western Reserve University's School of Law voted her Favorite Professor six different times and bestowed upon her the Teacher of the Year Award in 2015. And the admiration is mutual. 

"They inspire me with their passion," Kostritsky says of her students. "They are amazing both by their desire to learn something new and by their kindness to others."

Perhaps what makes Kostritsky's teaching style so dynamic is her willingness to be surprised, even after 32 years in the classroom. Because law is about so much more than learning rules, she says. "How can we know what rule is best until we know how people will respond to those rules?" she asks. "In deciding what the law is, you have to have an understanding of human behavior. It is that fundamental."   

Who: Juliet Kostritsky 
What: First-year course on contract law
Where: Case Western Reserve University School of Law
What makes a teacher "good?": "This question is a provocative one. There is no one way to be a good teacher but the best ones I've had [when I was a student] had a passion for the subject. I remember a poetry teacher who was a quiet speaker but his passion for Yeats, Synge and James Joyce was so palpable. 

The best teachers care deeply about the students and want them to learn the subject but also be inspired by it. The best teachers do not lecture. They welcome and carry on an interactive dialogue with their students. I love it when students come up with answers that I have not even thought about. That is wonderful and it makes me smile." 

This is Cleveland.

Home clothes

Do you have an item of clothing you wear at home all the time?

I have been wearing this plaid shirt almost EVERY DAY for the past two weeks. It's what happens when you work from home. I think fondly of those days when I worked in an office. Putting on the war paint and fabulous outfit, feeling ready to conquer the world. 

After a fulfilling day at work, I looked forward to my Mister Rogers Comes Home Moment. Remember when Fred Rogers would sing that cute tune, change out of his jacket and Oxfords and slip into something more comfortable -- which was usually a cardigan and pair of canvas sneakers? That was my reward at the end of the day. Kicking off my heels and changing into my slippers and favorite pair of comfy pants.

Admittedly, it's hard to feel like you're slaying when you're wearing pajamas or sweat pants or the same flannel button down every single day. I recently read about the concept of "home clothes" on one of my favorite blogs which got me thinking about articles of clothing you would might not want to be spotted in. Though I really like this flannel shirt I'm starting to think people might notice I wear it all the time. 

It's becoming my uniform.      


The definition of sexy.

Wintry

Meanwhile... Outside my bedroom window.


Winter survival guide.

Man and his BBQ

Nothing can come between a man and his barbecue. Not even a 7-degree windchill.

Happy Friday, y'all!!


22 grilling recipes. (Bon Appétit)

Winter survival guide (2016 edition)

Thirteen degrees outside and all I'm thinking is, "It's gonna be a long road to spring..."

You may be living in cold, cold climes like me, where the earth -- once teeming with flowers and insects and magnificent trees wearing magnificent coats of green -- is now barren and frozen solid. Maybe you're sick of me talking about the weather and thinking, "Yeah, yeah in Cleveland you gotta be tough, you've already told me that!"

OK, so this California girl is really proud of herself. After three winters here (two of which were B-R-U-T-A-L) I feel like I'm becoming a cold weather veteran. It's like having gone through parenting a newborn and surviving the haze. You know what to expect the second, third, fourth time around.

How do you survive frigid temps and not seeing the sun for weeks? 

In 2016, these are my tools:

I will forever preach the miracle that is oregano oil. A powerful antioxidant with natural antibacterial properties, two drops of it in my orange juice every morning keeps the doctor away. And if I feel the onset of a cold, I double the dose and I swear it's like smashing that virus before it becomes full-blown.  
  

My hands get crazy cracked in winter. I never leave home without my favorite hand cream. It smells delicious and will not leave your fingers feeling greasy.

    
Anthony Doerr's Pulitzer Prize-winning novel is keeping me up late at night. The Cleveland-born author spins gorgeous sentences together, so impossibly simple yet pure genius. I just can't put this book down!

This totally awesome ceramic coffee dripper was my favorite Christmas gift. I brew a fresh cup almost every morning. I'm ruined.

I think my favorite part of this relaxing pillow spray and sleep mist is that fact that it, "works great on overactive children." It really says this on the label! 

Chapped lips are not sexy. Use this scrub on DRY lips and then gently wipe off with a warm washcloth. It will do wonders on that pretty pucker of yours. 

A beautiful, bright lip is an instant winter pick-me-up. My favorite pink is called Schiap (named for Italian fashion designer Elsa Schiaparelli).  

It looks like a weird tea pot with a long snout. One of my girlfriends introduced me to the neti pot years ago and it's become a year-round staple. It naturally irrigates your nasal passages, removing excess mucus, pollen, dust and other irritants. Using it takes a few rounds of practice but you'll get the hang of it.   


Chocolate will definitely help you get through winter. (Cup of Jo)