Street art is everywhere (the Austin, Texas edition).

I went to Austin, Texas last week. And I could tell you about the food (oh my god, the food--there was so, so much of it). Or the people (they were just like us Angelenos, it turns out--save the fake parts and the bleached blonde). But I'm going to save my words and show you the art instead. Because the art--it was everywhere, on every street. And in one case, the same wheatpasted, bespectacled, afroed fellow appeared over and over again. The street art in Austin ranged from the pasted to the tagged to the stencils in multitude. And it seemed to fit the landscape as much as the live music and barbecue.

The beautiful Balloons of Bhutan.

Jonathan Harris is a photographer and a micro-storyteller and a traveler and a personal hero of mine.

When I describe art I always say: I don't know about art. I just know what I like.

I know that the richness and colors in Jonathan's work is as moving and incredible as it gets for me.

Harris' latest released project, Balloons of Bhutan, visited the region of Bhutan where happiness reigns supreme. He used balloons to measure the happiness and wishes of 117 residents.

Writes Harris on his site documenting the project, "Instead of "Gross National Product", Bhutan uses "Gross National Happiness" to measure its socio-economic prosperity, essentially organizing its national agenda around the basic tenets of Buddhism."

A beautiful project about a beautiful region of the world and its beautiful people.

http://balloonsofbhutan.org/

The town whose claim to fame was Split Pea Soup.

Santa Barbara is the kind of town--the kind resided in by rowdy University students and a tamer set of wealthy retirees--that one comes to either to relax or to engage in the most touristy of activities.

One such activity is wine drinking. But when traveling with my mother, an avid non-drinker, we were left to other, less fermented journeys.

In the town of Buellton, one will find Pea Soup Andersen's--an inn, a restaurant, and the claimant to Split Pea Soup innovation.

In next door Solvang, visitors can engage in all the delights of a Danish Village which hasn't changed since its founding in 1911 save the addition of perhaps 3 dozen more gift and candy shops. When I'd passed through Solvang in my first and last trip to Santa Barbara, I'd discovered that the restaurant responsible for the famed Danish dessert, Aebleskiver, closed at 3 pm.

I was resolved to make it in time this time. I didn't. But determined to try the Danish donut, we made a mad dash for the Red Viking Restaurant, the only other resto in town to fry up the doughy balls. While the dessert underwhelmed me, the victory of finally obtaining it did not.

Solvang is famed for nothing beside its donuts and pancakes. But while outsiders don't know it for anything else, Solvang-ites are apparently well aware of the delights of the outside world. The local memorabilia shop features a life size (aka pint size) cardboard cut out of the one, the only Justin Bieber, a child I'm fairly certain has never made it to the quaint village of Danish architecture and plentiful tourist traps.

Diet Coke, inspiring designers, inspiring me.

When I lost my luggage this weekend...I'm sorry--when the airline lost my luggage...my first stop was Target. Spending money on new clothing would be admission that my bag was lost forever. And, well, I'm just not ready to admit that. So, off to Target for affordable, temporary replacements to traipse around Long Island in it was. Much to my great pleasure I discovered a 'Vintage' line of sweatshirts and tees that the mega-superduper-giganto retailer now carries. And lo and behold, I found a heather gray sweatshirt emblazoned with my favorite beverage, Diet Coke's, logo--this is a sweatshirt I would have purchased if my luggage had arrived. This is the sweatshirt I was meant to own, to proudly wear while coolly sipping, what else, a cold can of DC.

But in an attempt to find an image online to share with you of my new favorite dud I discovered these puppies. It turns out that sneaker brand PUMA has a thing for my beloved beverage too. Peep these Diet Coke First Round Soda kicks from PUMA's retro-inspired collection. Love.

And perfect timing for the discovery as my new Puma sneaks are amongst the items lost in my bag lost in turn in baggage purgatory.

Palm Springs: The Ace Hotel + Mods + Snow in the Desert

You like pools? You like drinking? You like desert air? You like gay men and gray haired, antique shopping retirees? Well, aren't you glad that Palm Springs is just a hop, skip and a drive East along the 10 away from Los Angeles.

As an Ace Hotel aficionado (I love the NY location and you remember my recent Seattle stay), there was no other place we would have lodged when we headed to the desert a few weekends ago for the dual birthday celebrations of the BFFs than the Ace Hotel Palm Springs.

It happened to be Modernism Week in PS which meant airstreams and retro-styled hotel guests. But save a few funny folks, the hotel was it's usual Ace style awesomeness. Except with two pools and a hot tub. Score.

Planning a trip to Palm Springs soon (Coachella, perhaps)? Don't miss out on the Palm Springs Tramway. A five minute ride in the tram and you're 8,000 + feet up a mountain and in SNOW. Yes, SNOW. Granted, we stayed inside and enjoyed the concessions area and gift shop for longer than we did the freezing temperatures outside. But still, snow in Palm Springs?! Well worth the trip up.

 

The coast of California. The good, the bad, the blonde.

During the many glorious days off between the end of my last employment and the start of the new, I decided it time to finally explore regions North and South of Los Angeles. Having moved here more than 4 years ago I deemed myself ready.

Jetta packed, travel partner obtained, and trunk stocked with diet colas, I headed first up to Santa Barbara and then down to San Diego. Unlike my last trip to Seattle, I did not plan meticulously. Nor did I document my trips ad nauseum. I just went, I saw, and I did my best pretending to be a person who is without OCD and can 'go with the flow.'

Here are some of the things we did, saw and learned in our travels...

SANTA BARBARA

Santa Barbara is not the place to visit if you like bright lights, big cities or much to do. Santa Barbara is a town of leisure--an activity I'm generally foreign to, but could possibly learn to love. As far as I can tell, the residents of Santa Barbara spend their days playing beach volleyball, drinking wine, shopping on State Street, and doing absolutely nothing of note in Montecito. Save the college students who spend their days drinking and possibly drugging in Isla Vista.

I recommend...

Visiting the Gaviota Hot Springs where you will see Springs that are indeed hot and possibly naked men jumping in should you visit at the same time as my travel partner.

Enjoying a drink at the Four Seasons Biltmore where you will have a view of the ocean and awkward training sessions.

Hiking the mountains above Santa Barbara where you will have a view of the entire city, the valleys, and the ocean.

Traveling outside of the city for wine tasting and letting someone else drive so you can see, well, your life continue after Santa Barbara wine tasting.

And eating at the Cold Spring Tavern where [a friend of a friend of a friend told me that] you will have a view of bikers and that you should enjoy said view with a Coors Original and a shot of whiskey. It was my intent to sit on a biker's lap and while I saw no bikers I did enjoy my lunch at the quaint, historic little restaurant off the beaten path of SB.

Many friends also recommended that we stop at the Solvang Restaurant for Aebleskivers (pancake/waffle/donut like treats). My many friends did not inform us that the entire town of Solvang closes at about 3 pm. I went to Solvang and all I got was this crummy picture of a video tutorial on making Aebleskivers through the restaurant window. Yeah, I know.

SAN DIEGO

To be fair, I cannot really offer commentary on San Diego. We did not make it further than Del Mar, which is an upscale beach town just North of the city itself which is a little bit luxurious, a little bit suburban, and a whole lot of blonde.

We went for a birthday party--a three year old's birthday party which is the only kind I'd travel for. Besides saying with absolute certainty that I haven't been to a finer third birthday party (my own was sans jumper), I can say only this about Del Mar...

The pinnacle of the Del Mar shopping experience is a Chico's at the Del Mar Plaza

I do not fit in in Del Mar. I am neither fit and petite, nor with child. I do not own a pair of Uggs.

The Del Mar racetrack will be the place to see and be seen come July, provided you enjoy betting and own a big hat. I do happen to own a big hat. And I will be attending.

Brigantine has the best fish tacos around. Supposedly. I do not eat fish but this is what I hear and I believe it.

Chicago: I came, I saw, I left 40 hours later.

As part of my new initiative to visit American cities I've not yet seen (which is most of them), I took the opportunity this past weekend to join my mother in an insanely brief visit to Chicago where my brother and his fiance now reside.

The temperature was in the 30s which Chicagoans will tell you is not that cold. Well, Chicagoans can suck it. I've lived in Los Angeles for over 4 years. Anything below 50 during the day is ungodly.

The sky remained gray for most of my visit.

Though it allowed for a clear view of the Sears Tower (now the Willis Tower).

The Lincoln Park Zoo offered a free light show to those willing to face cold night temperatures for tree covered branches, neon animal shapes and a polar bear who knew enough to stay hidden inside his warm cave.

Despite a 4:30 am arrival, O'Hare Airport was already abuzz with holiday travelers this morning. Had I been any more fatigued, I might have thought this light installation a sign of hallucination.

To see the rest of my Chicago pics, visit the album on Flickr.

Seattle - Day 3: Fremont hippies + Wyeth at SAM + Psychic Readings

It poured again this morning. It poured so hard that for several minutes I thought, 'this is it. I am done with Seattle. I could end this vacation now--with my wet pants sticking to my cold legs, I could leave and never look back.' But then I went into yoga, back at the Seattle Athletic Club--stretched, strengthened, and perhaps took a doze during meditation--and emerged out into clear skies. Because things work out that way. They absolutely have to when you're on vacation.

Revived by the nice[r] weather, I ventured, via public transportation, to Fremont--a neighborhood that an acquaintance had described as 'artsy,' and some girls at the nail salon yesterday described as a 'hippy area.' Just goes to show you...I'm not sure what exactly...something about perspective.

(It should be noted that Seattle's bus system is terrific--strange, yes--but terrific. There's a 'ride free' zone throughout part of downtown and after that it's just $1.75. The busdrivers are nice. They are helpful. They are totally different from NYC busdrivers.)

First on the Fremont agenda was the Fremont Troll. The troll was a community art project designed in 1990. And just like the '90s, it is ugly, self-indulgent and big. After taking a couple of pictures and watching parents send their young children up the troll for photo opps, I waited. I thought perhaps the troll might spout lava or at least spit up a chewed up villager. It didn't. So I left.

The town of Fremont is everything everyone had said. Artsy and hippy-ish. And sort of awesome. Not to mention, strewn with fantastic foliage.

 

Fremont claims the Center of the Universe. Which is curious as I had always thought that I was the center of the universe.

On Saturday afternoons, the young locals of Fremont apparently come out to square dance.

I asked a store clerk for a lunch recommdation. She told me about a vegetarian restaurant, Silent Heart Nest. She wasn't sure 'what nationality the food was' because its 'like religious or something.' Turns out, according to the restaurant's webpage, that they are followers of a certain Sri Chinmoy. Which isn't actually a religion. But rather a spiritual group (which clearly implements the white woman in sari look). Bordering on a cult (I'm not saying...I'm just saying.)

Because no trip to a metropolis is complete without a visit to the local art museum, I had to head back downtown to the Seattle Art Museum, more familiarly known (check this out, I'm just like a local now) as SAM.

Here were some of the my faves from SAM...

George Segal - Woman on a Bed

Do-Ho Smith - Someone (Made with 40,000 dog tags. Count 'em if you don't believe me.)

I sat down to watch a video on making beads. But secretly I just sat down so that I could stop walking.

Jeff Koons - St. John the Baptist

A man. Viewing a Wyeth.

I also came across a psychic in a last walk through the Pike Place Market. And as I had had a premonition about seeing a psychic while I was here, I took this as a sign.

The first thing she asked me was if I had a problem with my right eardrum. Um, yeah--yeah I do. I have had trouble in my right ear since I was a child and have a hole in my right eardrum from a botched procedure. Wow, I hearted you from the word eardrum, psychic lady.

The rest of her reading lasted an hour. This had something, I'm sure, to do with the fact that she was charging me in 15 minute increments.

Though I can't reveal the rest of our reading which will remain between her, I, and her computerized astro charts, I can tell you that for more pics from Day 3, you can visit the online album. It will make you say 'ooh,' 'ah,' 'fantastico.'

And now, with the hoots and hollers of drunk Belltown residents outside my window...goodnight.

xx * Jessie B. R.