Tom Malloy Exhibit at the Trenton Library

Lewis Carroll wrote in Alice in Wonderland, "'Begin at the beginning,' the King said, very gravely, "and go on till you come to the end: then stop."

Such simple advice, but sometimes the story is more complicated than that. In writing about seeing the Thomas Malloy exhibit at the Trenton Free Library, do I start with learning about Thomas Malloy, or do I start with going to the exhibit? Or do I start in the middle.

I think for this story, I'll start in the middle. Circle back to a beginning. Move onto the end. Then conclude with thoughts for a beginning. 

A couple of weeks ago I went on a free walking tour of Trenton (love sightseeing in my backyard) and met Nicole. Nicole was the only person on the tour about my age, and the only one also taking pictures of the Seward Johnson sculptures. We struck up a couple of side conversations, one about the weekly roller skating meet up in Cadwalder Park in Trenton. The next time I went to the meet up I texted Nicole to join me. She said she was at an exhibit of Tom Malloy art, some of which was from her personal collection. Same time a friend shared on Facebook that he was at the same exhibit. At that moment, I wished I had learned about it sooner and had also gone.

I googled the exhibit (we live in amazing times where we have so much information at our fingertips) and told Don about it. A couple of days later, we went to see the exhibit. It is there through September 23, but life is getting busy.

The library is a vibrant part of Trenton.
It hosts the Trentonia Room, which is
the archives for the City of Trenton.
The room is open during the day for researchers and people with an interest in local history. It is a treasure!

In 2001, then Mayor Douglas H. Palmer named Thomas Trenton's Artist Laureate for the way he captured our capital city. He painted it warts and all, and made it look beautiful.

According to the zine created for the exhibit, he was born in South Carolina in 1912. He passed away in Trenton in 2008 at the age of 95.

Not long before his death we had the honor of meeting him in his apartment. We wanted to purchase one of his pictures. We *really, really, really* wanted to purchase one of his pictures. We looked at his scant collection and saw nothing of interest. Locally he is most famous for painting Trenton.

His zine went on to say in his 40s his wife encouraged him to chronical the city through watercolors -- a journey that continued for 50 years. He was self-taught.  In his mid-fifties he began to mesh his love of religion, community service, and Trenton through his watercolors of old New Jersey farmland and Trenton. In 1967 he had his first display in what was then called the Trenton Public Library. Later exhibitions took place in Queens, in the University of Pennsylvania Museum, and at Ellarslie Museum in Trenton, which he helped establish.

His artwork is permanently on display in the Tom Malloy Room at Ellarslie, and glicees of his artwork are for sale in the gift shop.

Love the way his art is folded into a box

This one of Atlantic City spoke to me

An aerial view of the exhibit.

I saw Nicole's art. My favorite from her collection was a small one of a streetcar.

This post could end here, except today I was invited to Stacy's non-profit's law firm's office. In 2018 I donated a bunch of her Trenton works to the law firm. At the time they were located in Trenton and served clients in Trenton. Stacy framed the art on the cheap by purchasing a mat cutter and making her own mats. They look classy.

Most are in the library

Two are in a client room

One is in the lobby

Looking at the work by the two artists I realized they found this passion later in life. there is still time for me to find mine -- even if it is not painting watercolors. 

This might not even be the end. This might be a new beginning.

 

September 11 Memorial

I have often driven past the sign for the Garden of Reflection, September 11 Memorial in Bucks County, but it took hunting for Seward Johnson sculptures to find the time to go to it.

Love how these benches are lined up as if
they are listening to the "musician," when they are
probably always there pointed towards the reflection
pond.

Some steel from the Towers

Mini memorials of all faiths

Even upside down,
we never forget

The park is much larger than this tiny corner. We were fortunate to not lose anyone in the 9/11 attacks, but many people in this area were not so fortunate. Though I find I need time to recover from a day in NYC, the reality is people from our area commute there daily (or at least they did before COVID). Others would have close friend and family members who perished that day. According to the website, 18 people from Bucks County perished. This is Official Pennsylvania Memorial to the victims of the terrorist attacks -- which leads me to wonder if every state has one, and where are they. There is a National Park Service site in further west in Pennsylvania in honor of those who crashed flight 93.  

Two decades later, the park is also used for biking, running, playing tennis and pickleball, as well as quieter activities such as reading. Around 9/11 each year they host a 5k run in remembrance. 

The memorial garden is worthy of a longer visit.

Too soon, my daughter, too soon

Recently our daughter told us she was going out with a group of theater friends to celebrate the closing of a successful show.

I knew drinking would be involved.

I knew she recently turned 21 and would want to buy an alcoholic beverage.

I knew she was running on fumes from enjoying every moment this summer, and working to pay for that enjoyment.

I knew she weighs barely 100 pounds.

I suspected there would not be any food involved, and if there was it wouldn't be enough.

I knew even one drink would be too much.

I also knew barely a week earlier her girlfriend was hit head on by a drunk driver.

I said "we'll drop you off and pick you up."

I knew this wasn't what a 21-year old wants to hear, but I knew I was right.

I knew Don didn't outwardly question my decision, but also didn't fully agree with it.

As she came out of the restaurant tipsy from downing a beer after having a few bites of an appetizer before the restaurant closed, she said "thank you."

At that moment, she knew, too. 

At that moment, Don knew, too.

Too soon.

Praise God her girlfriend left the accident with only a few scratches, needing only a few stitches, and having no broken bones or internal injuries. The trauma will last a long time, but she is dealing with it.

I think it will always be "too soon" to get behind the wheel of a car after "just one drink," but this time I said it and she listened. 

And she thanked me for seeing in advance what she might have missed.

Seward Johnson Sculptures in Lower Makefield Twp., PA

I'll subtitle this: The Last Round.

I'm not sure how or why this turned into the summer of traveling Seward Johnson sculptures, but there are two major exhibits of his sculptures in Mercer County, NJ (Hopewell and Trenton), as well as this one in Bucks County, PA. All three exhibits are for a few months, and focus on his series of "everyday" sculptures.

Lower Makefield Township did not make it easy to find the statues. Perhaps if you are familiar with the town, then clues such as by the Athletic Center (of which there are many) means something. I would have said it was next to the Community Center, hence the picture taken after sunset because we drove around town looking for it.

Don stumbled upon these a few months ago during his biking commute to work. We kept talking about seeing them, but it was finding out they were only on display through September 1st that it became a priority. 

Attic Trophy: Kids Kingdom on Edgewood Road
(a street address would have helped)
I hope our hula hooping friend can pose with her

Time Out: at Veteran's Square

The details are so much fun -- 
the metal clasp on the envelope in his
back pocket...

... and the bandaid on his arm,
along with the ribbing in his sweatshirt band.

"Out of Sight" one of four in Memorial Park

"No Mommy, That One"

"My Dog Has Fleas"

The details are impressive

"Calling Girl," by the tennis and pickleball courts

"God Bless America"

This was in front of the Artists of Yardville Headquarters,
down a road labeled Patterson Farm authorized
vehicles only. We parked on a side street and walked up.

"Food, Wine, and Thou"
This was the hardest to find, 
despite being on a busy road.

We have enjoyed Seward Johnson's sculptures for many years. Being able to see so many in the span of a few days gave me a greater appreciation for them. As the docent on Friday's tour reminded me, unlike paintings, his sculptures are meant to be studied from all sides. You are encouraged to interact with them. You can even gaze into their eyes. They capture a moment in the subject's life -- the love between the mother and child, the intensity of the musician, the concentration of the tennis player, the glee of the hula hooper, all that and more is for the appreciating. 

Seward Johnson Sculptures in Hopewell Township, NJ

Sightseeing in our backyard continued this week when we tracked down the Seward Johnson sculptures populating Hopewell Township, NJ. The Hopewell Valley Arts Council (HVAC) and The Johnson Atelier (Mr. Johnson was a resident of Hopewell when he died in March 2020) teamed up to present the exhibit "Celebrating the Everyday" by displaying ten of his sculptures in Hopewell Borough, Hopewell Township, Pennington, and Washington Crossing for six months. We only found nine. There is one by the Hopewell Elementary School we could not find.

The Awakening

Wine, Food, and Thou

Bake Sale

My World

Captured

Time's Up

Keep Life in Balance

Follow the Leader

Monet, Our Visiting Artist

Can we dance here, Mommy

His art is meant to be interacted with. We have pictures taken over the years with Ashley interacting with the sculptures. Us adults need to channel our inner child and do the same more often.

Ocean Grove's Christmas in August

Pumkin Praline with Graham Cracker
Day's Ice Cream

On the spur of the moment we decided to drive out to Ocean Grove to pick up some salt water taffy to give as a gift to friends when we see them next month (shh!!! don't tell Andrew). It was a nice night for ice cream and a stroll on the boardwalk up to Asbury Park.

After enjoying our ice cream we walked the block to the boardwalk when we hear "The First Noel" being sung nearby. In many places, that might feel odd, but Ocean Grove is famous for being founded by the Methodists, and to this day is still a dry town. When Don was growing up it was illegal to drive in town on Sunday, or even have your car visible on Sundays! It either had to be in a garage or moved just outside the town's walls. That rule was changed in 1979 when the New Jersey Supreme Court ruled it illegal, and the chains came down permanently. Of all the shore towns, hearing Christmas music in August felt reverent and charming. As I listened to the waves on the beach and smelled the salt air, I was transported to Christmas 1999 when we celebrated Christmas at the First Presbyterian Church of Honolulu. 

As we walked closer to the crowd we saw something even more remarkable than a crowd singing Christmas carols, we saw a full on Christmas pageant called the Beach Nativity, an event held annually on a Monday during the summer (last year it was the same week, a Google search brought up a date in July a different year, so a little research would be needed before making the drive).

The costumes were charming. In New Jersey, it is so much nicer to be standing outside in August than on many December evenings. We are also less stressed about the holidays. We could just listen to the familiar tunes and hear Mary encouraging us to turn to Jesus. The feel was more evangelical than traditional Christian. It reminded me of the simple messages the International Church in Barcelona preaches. The message is simple: God loves us. We humans have a way of making it more complicated than it needs to be.

As the members of the congregation processed out, Don pointed out the camel. I was too slow to get a decent picture. It was two people in a camel suit with their head sticking out of the humps. That takes teamwork! The angels wore lights on their halos. It had a simple feel. I left feeling embraced by God's love.

As we walked towards Asbury Park we heard the end of the community band's rehearsal. They were playing "White Christmas," further encouraging us to embrace the holiday spirit.

 

Speed Reads at Princeton Public Library

I have found my people!

They are retired people living in and around Princeton who enjoy reading.

I recently signed up for the Princeton Public Library weekly email list. I noticed an monthly event called Speed Reads. 

The librarian wheels in a cart filled with advanced reader's copies of current or forthcoming books. We each choose a book and are given 30 minutes to read the book in silence. If we don't like the book we choose, we can select a different one.

How heavenly!

Once the time is up we each report back to the group what we think of the book. Did it catch our interest? Was it hard to engage with? Are we familiar with the author? Does it remind us of anything else? We can say anything about the book.

The way it worked, I was the last to go. I was a bit intimidated by the people saying they chose this book because the author has received a Nobel Prize, or the Booker T. Washington Prize, or some other highly academic reason. Someone dismissed a book I recently enjoyed because in the first 20 pages she didn't feel there was enough character development. I stood up for the book. Another person dismissed a book because it was an "airport read." 

Then it was my turn. In for a penny. In for a pound. I chose "The Second Chance Hotel" because it looked like an airport read, after all, we only have 30 minutes to read the book. The main character is fired from her job and hops in a plane for Paris and beyond to find herself. I'm doing something similar in a month when I'm hopping in a plane for New Zealand and Australia to find myself. I told the group I plan to finish the book on the flight and deposit it in a Little Free Library on the other side of the globe (yes, we get to keep the book!). 

Somehow not only did they like my response, I was invited to join them for lunch. I couldn't make it, but a couple of the women (only one man in the group) invited me for next time and let me know where they go, and that the restaurant allows us to have separate bills. 

The second Tuesday of the month I have a standing date for some quiet reading time at the Princeton Public Library.

Benefit Concert for Sterling Smith

Before the pandemic there was a plan to honor The Grayps, a band that was formed in Columbus in the mid-1960s. The plan was put on hold, as was much of the world. This summer it morphed into including a benefit concert for Sterling Smith, one of the original members of the Grayps (pronounced grapes). 

The concert was held at the Valley Dale Ballroom and featured music by Driving Guitars (Sterling's brother Tom's local band, made up of former Danger Brothers band mates) and a Rolling Stones tribute band called The Rolling Rock Show. The Valley Dale originally started in 1918, but unfortunately burned to the ground in 1923. Two years later it reopened better than before and became the local place where all the Big Band musicians performed, including Duke Ellington, Glen Miller, and Tommy Dorsey. They used the forced closing of the pandemic wisely and spent over a million dollars renovating the space. It positively glistens!

The benefit concert had one more morphing when Uncle Sterling passed away on July 29th, it became a memorial concert. The concert was lovingly recorded by Cousin Laura and Matt and is immortalized HERE on YouTube.

Sterling made quite a name for himself in the music scene as much for his musical talent as for being himself. He helped everyone who needed it. In a world where people use drugs and alcohol to keep up the energy needed to perform, Sterling fueled himself on chocolate milk and fig newtons. When Don, Ashley, and I went to Los Angeles in 2010, we connected with him and his sister, Aunt Joanie, on what became an epic tour of the local Starbucks. Thirteen years later we cannot pass a Starbucks without thinking abut him and that tour. I remember in 1982, the summer after we met him at Aunt Debra and Uncle Tom's wedding, we went out to California where Sterling took us for a ride in his big red convertible. I credit that ride to why I wanted a convertible.

The concert was a lot of fun. I enjoyed hearing Sterling stories. Made me wish I had spent more time getting to know him. That's often the case at memorials that turn into parties and celebrations.

The next day we gathered for Massey's pizza, chocolate milk, and fig newtons in his honor. I represented New Jersey ("God's Country," as his mom, Marge Smith, used to say). Others came from Michigan, and throughout Ohio. The weekend felt as if Sterling would walk in the room in any moment. That's when the sadness would set in.

Some pictures from the show and next day party:

Trip to Jeni's for us out of towners

A whirlwind of a weekend.