MISSISSIPPI MEDITERRANEAN

Petra, a Mediterranean restaurant and one of our favorite places to eat in town, closed not too long ago. (Sadly, it's now a steakhouse, of which this town has far more than its share.) Kurt and I mourned the loss. But then we got over it. We started cooking Mediterranean food! Kroger started offering dolmas as part of their antipasto bar! So our social loss soon turned into our gastronomic gain.

Saturday night, I put together this plate of lamb kebabs, tomato and cucumber salad with fresh basil, grilled squash, olives, and yogurt with cucumber and mint. It was an incredible spread, if I do say so myself.

Petra schmetra!
And I hate to even write these words, but Sunday did not see a single pancake. Instead, there were poached eggs with Parmesean and basil atop fresh tomato sauce with olives and capers.

Tonight, it's going to be Mississippi Masala: a yummy chicken curry. And if you haven't seen the movie Mississippi Masala, add it to your Netflix list. And take note of the scenes filmed in Greenwood, MS (the Delta town where Kurt and I got married). Denzel Washington's character's father is a waiter at Lusco's. And if you ever make it to Lusco's, which you should, make sure to order the shrimp (hot), onion rings, and the homemade flan.

FROM MY "MAGICAL MISSISSIPPI DELTA" ARCHIVES

Folk art environment on the south side of Itta Bena, MS

Next time you're anywhere near the Delta town of Itta Bena, head south on HWY 7 towards Quito, and you'll happen upon this roadside gem (go a little farther south and you'll happen upon one of the three alleged grave sites for bluesman Robert Johnson). On your way through town, make time for lunch at Bailey’s (the old E & L Restaurant) on Basket Street.

I think I'm starting to convince myself to make a little Delta road trip.

MANDALA INTERLUDE

Tibetan Buddhist monks from Drepung Loseling Monastery have been here in Oxford on the campus of the University of Mississippi all week. They're here to perform their Mystical Arts of Tibet production, which is tonight, but they've spent the week doing much more. Since Monday, some of the monks have been constructing a mandala sand painting in the Student Union. And according to Kurt, who was in line behind some of the monks at lunch today, they're getting their fill of burgers and Chick-fil-A, too.

Just yesterday, while on a little road trip to Tuscumbia, Alabama, I caught up on some podcasts and happened to catch this one. It's a good listen. And a timely one, too.


I might also add that, oh, about fourteen years ago, I had the pleasure of hearing the Dalai Lama speak in Houston. He made an appearance at the Menil Collection with his buddy Richard Gere, who had a collection of the photogrpahs he'd taken in Tibet on view in one of the galleries. It was a chance-of-a-lifetime event. I left the talk spiritually satisfied and politically motivated--and with Richard Gere's autograph.

MY FAVORITE PART OF SPRING IN MISSISSIPPI

MANO A MANO

MANO 1: Kurt's wrist is on the mend. The pain is subsiding, and the cast is preventing him from doing any heavy lifting, thank goodness, although he made some noises about weed-wacking the trail through the woods over the weekend. It's hard for him to refrain from building, cutting, or tearing down.

MANO 2: All of this mano business reminded me of a painting I did some years ago--right before I moved to Mississippi, actually. The painting above, Fortun(at)e, was a response to getting accepted into graduate school and embarking on a new adventure. It was the postcard image for my show at Koelsch Gallery that year and sold to someone in Portland, Oregon, of all places. Right now, that seems like one of life's incredible coincidences. More like things coming full circle, I suppose. Since I've been blogging, I've made some friends who live near Portland (hi Katherine, Pino and Yolanda!), an old art school friend is there (I'm going to get in touch, Lynn!), and my mother and I are making a trip out that way in April.

Back to the painting. Most of the imagery is pretty self-explanatory, I think, but the gold finger often makes people scratch their heads. It's a representation of a reliquary, many of which I've seen in my travels abroad. I've always been fascinated by the Catholic church's obsession with little bits of bones and hair (pieces of saints and other important people, supposedly), which are kept in obscenely ornate containers. But you know what's incredible about this gilded finger? And I've only just realized this, right this instant. It happens to be the very same finger that got broken my first year in Mississippi. Those of you in-the-know should get a good laugh. Everyone else, the story of how I broke my finger will have to remain a mystery.

Mano a mano.

SUNSET WITH CRAPE MYRTLE

The Kroger parking lot never looked so good.

STORIES IN CIGAR BOXES

Today, while looking for something else, I came across the photograph above. I haven't seen it since I took it almost five years ago. Perhaps Birney Imes was still swimming around in my head. Or maybe it was just a cigar box.

Imes's book Whispering Pines, which I mentioned in yesterday's post, is a document of the now defunct roadhouse of the same name. What's more, though, is that it's a document of a man's life and the relics he left behind.

Blume Triplett didn't throw anything away, and most of the things he kept were small enough to fit in cigar boxes. Hundreds of cigar boxes. So among the photographs Imes took of Triplett laughing at the bar, eating lunch, and shooting pistols, are haunting images of his many collections--little still lifes of objects.

The still life above is a photograph I took while documenting the Cotton Row Club in Greenwood, MS. I'm not entirely sure I even knew about Whispering Pines back then, but three's certainly a connection there. A while later, I did this painting, which was, obviously, inspired by the photograph. It's kind of hard for me to look at it now (painting on particle board, what was I thinking?!), but I do still love the memories it evokes of that time and place--and those objects.

I have no idea what was in the cigar box.

IF BIRNEY MET BIG MAMA

Big Mama's Restaurant in Lambert, MS. It used to be Club Nubian.

















Chandelier over the bar, where you can now get drunk on soul food, not cocktails.



Riverside Lounge in Shaw, MS, by Birney Imes, 1986.

I think of Birney Imes so often when I'm in the Delta. His photographs of rural juke joints take my breath away. Make a point to find his book Juke Joint, if you don't know it already. And if you don't know the book, you might recognize the photograph that's the cover of Lucinda Williams' album Car Wheels on A Gravel Road. It's one of his.

In addition to spending years documenting Mississippi's rural jukes, Imes spent years hanging out at one of them: Whispering Pines. Now Whispering Pines wasn't actually a juke; it was a club that, back in it's heyday, had one side for white patrons, another for black. The place fell into decline, but it's owner, Mr. Blume Triplett, stuck around. He entertained guests. He saved everything. Imes visited and took photographs. Those photographs became a book called Whispering Pines. It's a stunning collection of images.

I'd love to see Imes' interpretation of Big Mama's because I certainly can't do the place justice.

MAGIC LIGHT

Saturday evening in downtown Oxford.

BATH ITEMS, BOAS, AND BUNK BEDS

A few choice listings in this week's Tradewinds Classifieds, Mississippi's Weekly Bargain Hunter's Magazine. "The best shoppin', readin', tradin', sellin' magazine in Mississippi." They ain't kiddin'.

STOOL + CABIN + LAMP = PURE GENIUS

Behold the Stool Cabin Lamp. This unique little treasure was purchased for a mere fifty clams at the Mason Jar Antique Mall in Pontotoc, MS. I was only about ten feet in the front door when I saw it. Of course, I absolutely had to have it. Just take a few minutes to admire the details.

Those popsicle sticks! Those pebbles! The woodpile at the edge of the porch! And there's even screen over the windows and sand in the yard. Know, though, that I installed the barnyard animals. They’re a nice addition, don't you think?

You can see a few more photos of the cabin right here.













Here are two more treasures I found on the same outing. First, a collection of three miniature wooden bowling pins. Oddly, they're each a different size and color, but I think that's definitely part of their charm.

And then we have the landscape painted on a piece of wood. More precisely, a piece of a tree. Not only do I love this as an object, but it also has a little personal significance. One the reverse, there's an artist's stamp and, while I forget the artist's name, he is/was from Manitou Springs, CO. Kurt and I spent some time in Manitou Springs on our August trip to Colorado. That, and this thing only set me back 75 cents AND it's a perfect addition to our Folk Art Room, which happens to be one of our guest rooms. You'll notice it found the perfect home just above the bed to the left.

I'm looking very forward to my next trip to Pontotoc, although I'm not too sure how much more our little house can hold. All the more reason to get to work on the new studio building, I say.

HOUSE GUESTS

My mom and her friend, Bonnie, are staying with us this weekend, and we're ready to have a Mississippi adventure. Look for a recap here on Monday.

Till then, have a super swell weekend, wherever you are.