Today I finally made time to go see Julie and Julia before it completely left the theater.  For those of you who missed the trailer, the movie follows the parallel stories of Julia Child and Julie Powell, an aspiring writer.  Powell is a passionate foodie who, searching for some sort of  “meaningful accomplishment” in her life on the verge of turning 30, decides to cook through Child’s cookbook in a year and blog about the experience.

This movie caught my attention for a number of reasons.  First, my mother and brother were avid watchers of Julia Child as I was growing up.

Now, I’ll be the first one to confess that I’m pretty much culinarily challenged.  My friends have a longstanding joke that my survival strategy involves always falling in love with men who enjoy cooking.  Amongst my many ignoble disasters in the kitchen, I have managed the feat of setting fire to my kitchen cabinets attempting nothing more ambitious than boiling a pot of water for Kraft Macaroni and Cheese.

I’ve never had much of an interest in cooking, but I have a deep appreciation of  good food.  And, growing up, Julia Child on the TV meant two things: 1) reasonably good entertainment and 2) interesting things happening in the family kitchen that beat my mom’s traditional Friday night zucchini quiche hands-down.

My childhood is laced with memories of Julia Child killing Bertha the Lobster, a provincial French table covered in 50 lbs. of monkfish, and random intervals of self-multilation and bloodshed coverage courtesy of PBS.  Better still, my younger brother Chris would get inspired by the showz and interesting things would happen in the kitchen courtesy of my family’s a much loved and bespattered copy of Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking.

With Julia Child a fixture of my childhood, I really enjoyed seeing Meryl Streep’s portrayal of her life.  What resonated with me even more, however, was Julie Powell’s half of the film.

Powell is just turning 30 at the beginning of the story and questioning what she has to show for her life.  I just recently turned forty and have been doing my own share of soul-searching about my life looking radically different than I expected it to by this point.

Powell is a frustrated aspiring writer who’s editor husband convinces her to start a blog.  I think the story does a humorously good job of capturing the narcissim and self-absorption involved with writing a personal blog on a regular basis.  Let’s face it.  There has to be a certain level of arrogance to put the details of one’s day-to-day existence out there in the public ether in the belief that anyone else out there is going to have any interest whatsoever in reading it.  And in prioritizing getting another post out there over spending quality time with one’s significant other.

Perhaps my favorite part of the film is when Powell has had two back-to-back major culinary disasters.  (Aspics, followed closely by stuffed chicken.)  She is lying prostrate on the floor of her kitchen amidst the remains of Disaster #2, howling in despair, when a writer for the Christian Science Monitor calls asking for an interview.  Powell immediately pops up and answers the phone sounding perky as a cheerleader and totally in command of the situation.  Oh yeah.  Been there.  More than once.

I also loved the relationship between Powell, her mother, and the blog.  While my own mother never voiced an opinion telling me to shut the thing down, like Powell’s, she tends to follow it, and mommy- radar kicks off when something breaks the normal pattern and concerned phone calls and emails follow.

Powell’s storyline resonated with me enough, that I just downloaded a copy of her book from which the movie was drawn: Julie and Julia: My Year of Cooking Dangerously.

Anyway, while I doubt it will be winning any Oscars, it’s definitely a movie I’d recommend to the Julia Child fans out there and also to female bloggers.  For my part, I am inspired to cook up some lovely, local-area corn for dinner (boiling is within my skill-set these days) and am busy reminiscing over Charlie’s lovely beed bourginon. 

So while I’ve been in AZ, I’ve been staying in my friend Jay’s guest room.  My current plan is to continue to rent a room for him while I’m down in AZ completing my certification course.

My friends in AZ are acquainted with Jay but for those readers who don’t know him, Jay is a 40-something, gay, black man I’ve been friends with going on two decades.  I’m sure you’ll be hearing more about Jay in the next few months, but I’ll start by saying that Jay’s decorating tastes diverge widely from my own. A lot.

Jay’s condo is known in my circle of friends as “Vermillion Manor”. Jay happens to believe Versailles is the peak of architectural achievement and he has designed the interior of his condo to be a miniature homage to Versailles’ glory.  He even has his own tiny hall of mirrors and collection of statuary.

Imagine walls and walls of mirrors, crystal chandeliers, baroque furniture, tassels cascading from every available vertical surface, and a surfeit velvet and you get the general vibe of the place where I’m staying.

Rumi took one look at the place, fell into immediate love, flounced upon the floor of the main salon, and announced loudly in Balinese that he had finally “arrived”.  I, on the other hand, with my love for zen lines and muted color schemes, have been cautiously tiptoeing around like an unplanned-for extra on the set of Night at the Museum.

I don’t in any way mean to make fun of Jay’s decorating.  Creating Vermillion has been an act of passionate creation for more than a decade, now.  And I’m fairly certain, Jay would feel as much a Stranger in a Strange Land aboard my floating home as I do padding barefoot around Vermillion.  But even Jay would concede that Vermillion can be a bit daunting for the first-timer.

To add to my whole down-the-rabbit-hole sensation, Jay has decided to dub me the “Lady in Residence” at Vermillion.  Unfortunately, if he had hoped having a woman in the residence was going to class-up the joint, I’m afraid he’s been sadly disappointed.  I’m much more of a Pygmalion-style project.

When I first arrived Jay had visions of the two of us sitting down on Sunday mornings to high tea with NPR Baroque Sundays wafting softly on the stereo.  I’m afraid his sensitive, artistic soul was well and truly crushed the first time I came home from a night at a fighter practice looking like a sweaty version of a Fraggle, popped open a domestic bottle of beer, and proceeded to share it with the cat–without either of us even bothering to use the crystal stemware intended for weekday use.

So far, though, Jay has been a remarkably good sport about me invading his sanctuary from the modern world.  And, for my part, I’ve been grateful for the lack of domestic chaos and also having regular good company in the form of a roommate.

I promise at some point I’ll do a more detailed video or photo tour of Vermillion.  I just know if I try to take any more pictures when Jay is home I’ll send him in to an apoplexy of cleaning and I’ve already disturbed his natural habitat more than enough for the present.

Okay, folks.  Sorry for going AWOL while I figured things out (at least as far as the short run at any rate).

Let me start by saying thank you for all of you who have sent notes or left comments of support.  They’ve really been appreciated.  I can’t say I’ve got everything sorted out but I’m slowly getting there.

Coming down to Phoenix has given me a chance to reconnect with friends, get relatively on top of work, and take a breather from renovation hell.  (I cannot begin to describe to you the depth of pleasure Rumi and I have both taken in being able to sprawl on a clean, carpeted floor…)

Part of the reason why there hasn’t been anything on the blog lately is I’ve been lost in soul-searching about how I wanted to handle the next few upcoming months.  I just reached a decision on that today.

I do intend to return to Portland and continue to work on the house.  However, in the short run, I really need to figure out things in terms of my work situation. More than anything, things not going well with my job has really sucked the life out of me.  While I continue to work hard to try to turn things around with my existing employment, I have also decided to extend my time down in Phoenix by a couple of months to finish a certification program I had started when I lived in Arizona previously.  I’ve decided I need an exit strategy in case things don’t improve (or my employer decides to let me go).  I’m sure I’ll be writing more about the specifics of this at some point.

Long story short, I’ll be starting classes in the evenings starting next week.  I should have my program pretty much wrapped up by the holidays (assuming the stress of holding down both a job and classes at night doesn’t do me in during the interim).

In the meantime, I get to spend some more time in a supportive environment amongst friends and family, which I can really use right now.

The following is a guest article written by Shireen Qudosi…

Long before the mod designs of today’s sustainable homes, there the “Glass House”.   Built in New Canaan, Connecticut in 1949 by Philip Johnson for his personal use. It was a ground breaking project in its time and still continues to astonish those of us today who cannot fathom living in a see-through house.

While most people love the concept of a glass house, they have one major problem with it – privacy. But there’s a simple solution – curtains. Lightweight curtains would provide both shade during summer months as well as privacy, without compromising the structure’s aesthetic appeal.

But what a lot of people also don’t realize is those eco homes aren’t cookie cutter houses. On the contrary, they can be built with a lot more forethought and personalized design than traditional real estate. Just ask Michelle Kaufman of MK Designs.

When Michelle Kaufman and her husband moved to California, they decided to fill the market for clean green homes after their own difficulty in finding one. Clients can design their own custom home and choose the features that work for them. According to Michelle, “the real challenge, and the critical area for a successful project, is the implementation and the production.” Fortunately, through many years of being in the business, Michelle and her team have been able to iron out this wrinkle.
Regardless of whether or not you’d choose to live in a glass house, our mutual love of aesthetic and design are instantly drawn into Johnson’s minimalist creation. A balanced sense of proportion and a design that connects with the environment is what ultimately has paved the way for modular and prefab.

Yet no matter what your home is like, you can get it be more sustainable – and contrary to what some may think, sustainable doesn’t mean living a “bare bones” lifestyle. A sustainable lifestyle can be chic and creative while still be eco-conscious.

With fall at our doorstep and winter around the corner, the number one consideration is learning to reduce heating costs. Insulating your home, using an energy-efficient space heater, and good old fashioned bundling up will certainly help you do your part in reducing energy consumption. But for extreme green, try installing a geothermal heating system, with loops deep in the ground around your home, and a heater exchange to collect relative heat from the ground.¹ If you’re already in a DIY renovation mode, then consider installing windows and skylights that’ll let more light come in – thus reducing your dependency on electrical lighting. There are also a number of window designs that not only let more light in, but also help keep in the heat.

But if you’re a quick-fix type, there are still versatile ways you can prep your home for winter and reflect your stellar taste – especially if you’re a notorious coveter of wooden floors.

If you’ve got wooden floors (hopefully bamboo), try covering them with rugs during the winter. The use of rugs is a quick DIY insulation that gives you a chance to add a new style element in your living space. Far from perhaps over bearing eclectic themes too strong for certain tastes, some eco-inspired pieces are also designed for the utilitarian thinker. For the military-mined eco-enthusiast, there’s Rebekah Rauser’s Redeploy Rug that combines the necessary military durability of surplus blankets with organic fluidity. Made of 100% wool Russian army blankets and with topographic pattern, the Redeploy adds a unique dimension that makes the piece not only necessary but stylish.

Ultimately, no matter which route you choose, the goal is to create a home that is both functional and stylish, while still doing its part for the environment.

Eco winter ideas is brought to you by Shireen Qudosi.
http://www.canadianhomeworkshop.com/home-reno-and-design/green-renovations/five-ways-to-make-your-home-more-sustainable/a/21292

Image 1: Philip Johnson’s ‘Glass House’

Image 2: David Salmela

Image 3: rauserdesign.com