Architecture, ART, Attractions, DESTINATIONS, International, TRAVEL

On My Way Home

Spanish Colonial Architecture from Bill’s 2011 mission trip to Guatemala.

TRAVEL TALK: SUMMING IT ALL UP

Our return to Dallas was blissfully uneventful.  I’ll spare you the details.  I entertained myself with Michener’s Mexico, but as I read, another part of my brain was sorting out what I’d observed on this short vacation.  My initial impressions required a lot of thought and my arrival in Dallas did not end my meditations.  

Capturing My Travel Thoughts

I’ll start with the relationship between Mexicans and Spaniards. I’m actually amazed at how good their current relations are considering the history of the natives and the invaders.  Spanish architecture is appreciated just as much as the ancient native sites.  There doesn’t seem to be a resentment between the Mexicans and their Spanish heritage.  Spain’s Catholicism has been embraced and there doesn’t seem to be any factions hoping to reignite the worship of gods who demand human sacrifice, which were the Mayans gods.

Granted the Mexicans overthrew Spanish rule during an ugly period that lasted more than a decade, but they got over it.  They didn’t reject Christianity along with the rulers they ousted or tear down Spanish cathedrals.  Though I am sure there was a lot of burning and looting during the war, since its been over, they seem to have developed a great working relationship.  The Mexicans I have observed seem just as proud of the beauties of Spanish colonial architecture as they are of their own pyramids.  Even when I visited Mexico back in the Seventies and Eighties, this seemed to be so.  Most specifically, there is not the tension over monuments and flags we Americans seem to harbor in relation to our own Civil War and slavery.

I Wouldn’t Be Quite as Nice

Personally, as a Christian, I resent the Spanish for the brand of Christianity they forced down the throats of the Mexican Indians.  They made most of them slaves and threatened to kill them if they didn’t convert.  Not that the Europeans did a much better job anywhere else, but the Spanish Conquest of Mexico seems particularly repugnant, in both their hunger for gold and their forcible spread of Catholicism.

My guide on the Chichen Itza excursion pointed out something I’d never quite noticed before.  He showed us a church decorated with serpents.  According to the guide, killing those who were unwilling to convert did not seem to be all that effective with some groups of natives.  So, instead the friars invited the natives to come to the Catholic Church to worship their own snake god.  Though this is more humane than murder, it’s still a trick and I didn’t like to hear of it. 

The Question of Christianity

Had I not mulled over the question of religion for several days, this post might have turned into a rant against the Roman Catholic Church.  They’ve done a lot of things wrong from the inception of formalized religion, but in truth, little about Christianity is attractive to many outsiders today.  In some places, like Central Asia for example, people are turning to Christianity in droves.  They are hungry for the hope it offers, but the concept of hope is alien to Americans who see Christianity the enemy.  They pull verses out of the context of the rest of the Bible and try to hold them up as messages of contempt.  I fear these people miss the point.

Christianity fails any time it gains an official capacity in government. It’s one thing to have a Christian king or president, quite another to have that leader promote his faith with his power.  Lead as a servant, sure.  Wield your power to grow your religion – NO!  Christians have made a lot of mistakes in America.  They have judged others based on a faulty understanding of what they think God wants.  They also took advantage of their majority and wrote laws favorable to themselves.  Now we are paying the price for that power.

During the Byzantine era, the Roman government encouraged its citizens to be Christians.  The emperor was Christian and he promoted Christianity in many ways, including paying bishops.  Many of the subjects of the emperor joined the church, not because they embraced Christianity, but because they wanted access to their ruler.  Others joined the clergy, not out of piety, but because it was a steady paycheck.  The Church may have prospered under these circumstances, but true Christianity has not.  The intentions may have been good, but the results were not.

Conversions which are coerced or forced in any manner are just wrong, period. A conversion to Christianity should be about faith, relationship and hope.  I do blame the Roman Catholic Church for much of the antipathy felt towards Christians.  It would take me thousands of words to discuss the atrocities of history, the distractions of Mariology and the veneration of saints, indulgences, Apolstolic Succession, the inerrancy of the pope, the practice of confession and absolution, transubstantiation, and so many other Catholic traditions which make me crazy.  However, all Christians are human first and we all screw up really badly.  Unfortunately, people judge God based on us, rather than judging us by God’s standards – and we all fall short of those.

As I stood in the plaza of Chichen Itza and considered the awful human sacrifices which were made there, it seemed to me anyone in that city should have been thrilled to learn of the God of the Bible. Instead of a stone god who expected sacrifices, the Spanish could have offered a Creator God, who sacrificed His own Son.  But the message was garbled, threats were made, abuses were committed and today many Mexicans are still caught up in a religion of works, rather than a joyful relationship with the Most High God.

These misconceptions about God, Jesus and the Bible still abound.  God is seen as the big killjoy of the world, because the message is still garbled.  The code of conduct outlined in the Bible is seen as a list of criteria to get into heaven, but that’s a total misrepresentation of Truth.  Shame on the religious people who promote this heresy.

I could go on and on, but I won’t.  Next week I will leave religion and move on to politics.

Accommodations, Attractions, DESTINATIONS, International, Road Trips, TRAVEL

Are You Kidding Me Right Now?

people at theater
Photo by Monica Silvestre on Pexels.com

TRAVEL THERE: THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT?

We arrived at the Seadust’s theater in time to score some pretty good seats and the show started promptly at the given time.  Things were looking up.

Audience Participation

Many of the live shows we attend when we’re traveling include audience participation.  It was probably most enjoyable when we were on our Nile cruise a few years before I started blogging.  There was a hysterical game with potatoes and I won a belly dancing contest on Gallabeya Night.  Bill is always the guy they choose out of the audience when belly dancers are involved and he frequently ends up on stage for other performances, too, like one of the shows on the Danube cruise.  Thankfully, the participants for this particular show had to volunteer.  Bill never volunteers.

Toto, we weren’t in Kansas anymore.  The MC did a silly skit where he and an assistant taught four guys a series of four schticks and then the MC called out the names of the schticks in quick succession, trying to catch the contestants performing the wrong schtick.  I was little surprised at the skit, because one of the schticks emulated a series of effeminate gestures.  I’ve seen things like that before, but in politically-correct America, it’s been a very long time ago.

The audience enjoyed the antics and would laugh particularly hard when the four burly guys would wave limp-wrist-ed at the audience and turn around with simpering steps to waggle their behind at us.  Apparently, politically incorrect is funny in Mexico.

Let’s Start the Show

After the Audience Participation skit was over, a series of Broadway songs were performed. The only song I actually remember was from Beauty and the Beast.  I remember it, because the costumes were beyond shopworn.  The yellow ballgown was thinner than cheap toilet paper and the Beast looked like he’d been roused out of bed for the scene.

Our favorite part of the show was a dance performed by a guy in, what I can only describe as a multi-limb-ed fabric-enclosed Slinky.  The Slinky costume was brightly colored and the dance very entertaining.

Then, yet another opportunity for audience participation came along and yes, another gay-bashing schtick was involved. At that point we had seen enough.  I sort of hate most political correctness, but obviously I don’t like gay-bashing.

Time to Call It a Night

Though it had been much more relaxing than the previous 24-hours, I’d had a pretty full schedule.  We’d be leaving the following day, but I’d have plenty of time to do my packing before our transportation showed up.  I’d stopped by the Best Day desk in the lobby right after breakfast and had made the arrangements.  We wouldn’t be leaving until almost one.

I did take the time to be sure our towels and swimsuits were hung up to dry, but soon I had on my jammies and was reading more of my novel about Mexico.  It was really beginning to get good.  However, I didn’t get very far, because I was soon drifting off to sleep.

Packing It All In

I woke up early and went to the large bathroom and dressing area to pack up our things.  It actually took longer than I expected, because Bill was up before I was through.  We went downstairs for breakfast at the buffet and I had one more errand I wanted to take care of.  I’d been shopping for a gift for my bestie throughout the trip and to my amazement, the best combination of selection, quality of merchandise and pricing was actually in the gift shop of the Seadust’s lobby.  I selected the item I thought she’d like and use most.  Then we returned upstairs to finish packing.

I felt like I was playing some sort of game, as usual.  Our big suitcase can hold an amazing amount of stuff, but if I filled it up, we’d need a crane to move it and we couldn’t afford the surcharge the airline would levy for overweight items.  On this trip, American allowed us each a carry-on.  So, I juggled our stuff, hoping to balance just the right amount of clothing and shoes with the toiletries to put the big bag under 50 pounds.  Then I had to make everything else fit into carry-ons.  I couldn’t use exactly the same formula as I had on the way to Cancun, because all of our swimming gear was still damp and couldn’t be packed in the big bag.  Eventually I was ready to go.

We’re almost through, except for the thoughts I’d been mulling over since the visit to Chichen Itza.  if you come back next week, I’ll try to make my meditations coherent.

Accommodations, DESTINATIONS, International, Restaurants & Bars, Road Trips, TRAVEL

The Big Ben Blues

Medium Rare Prime Rib?

TRAVEL THERE: DINNER AT THE SEADUST STEAKHOUSE

In the three days we were at the Seadust Cancun Family Resort, we didn’t have the opportunity to visit all the restaurants, but that’s OK.  You can tell us about them if you go.  Here’s what happened at the steakhouse.

Getting a Table Before the Show

I had finally discovered a spot in the lobby where a monitor showed the activities of the day.  Too bad I didn’t find it until our stay was almost over.  I learned the evening’s entertainment would be at 8:30 in the theater we’d discovered on the first day – a theater with no information anywhere about when it opened or what was playing.

That night’s show was a Broadway Revue, which could be bad or good.  The Broadway-themed show on the Vision of the Seas had been pretty awful.  Still, we didn’t want to miss it, so we went down fairly early to catch dinner before the show.

Bill suggested the Maison d’ Michelle, which might have been a better choice, but I wanted to try something new.  The Mexican food and the Sushi at the Buffet indicated those wouldn’t be the best options, so we gave the Big Ben Steakhouse a try.  According to the information I had been able to locate, it was supposed to be even more popular than the French Restaurant.

The restaurant was full when we arrived, so we put our names on the list.  Almost immediately a crowd of other patrons showed up to also get on the list.  Maybe this was going to be OK.  As the crowds grew, Bill began showing signs of antsy-ness.  Thankfully, called our name before he wandered off.

Here We Go

We were welcomed into the restaurant, shown a table in the center of the room and handed a couple of menus.  Tonight the only white wine available was a Chardonnay, so I opted for a Margarita. Foul ball!  Bill was thrilled to discover he could have a Cabernet Savignon.  When the waiter returned with the bottle, Bill encouraged him to go ahead and fill it up a little more.  Then he took his first sip.  Strike One!

If there were appetizers, I don’t remember them.  I ordered a cut of medium rare prime rib.  Bill chose bbq ribs.  Bill loves ribs.  He usually orders them when they are on the menu, even when steak is another option.  I would not have ordered ribs in an English-themed restaurant in Cancun, Mexico. 

Dinner was served.  Strike Two!  Did you see what they were calling a medium rare cut of prime rib.  It was more like an overcooked round steak.  I admit, I started giggling.  I would have preferred the duck chunks or the mediocre fried seafood, but I didn’t say a word.  I didn’t want to set Bill off on his catalog of disappointments.

Bill attacked his ribs and claimed they were pretty good.  He just didn’t like the sauce.  I thought it was funny that there was a sauce at all.  Sauces, gravy and condiments seemed to be in short supply.  The fact they’d prepared a sauce was amazing.  We’ll just call this a foul ball.

Dessert was paraded by in a glass-enclosed cart and I was disappointed to discover the coconut pie, which had been listed on the menu, was not among the available selections.  However, there was chocolate and I like chocolate.  The dessert was delivered.  I liked it well enough, but Bill called it a strike and wanted to go to the buffet to check out the selections there.

At the dreaded buffet Bill scored some acceptable dessert bites and once he’d topped off his meal with them,  we headed off for the theater.  Come back next week and enjoy the show.

ART, Attractions, DESTINATIONS, DFW Metroplex, Museums, Road Trips, TRAVEL

Berthe Morisot at the DMA

Berthe Morisot – The Cradle

TRAVEL HERE: IMPRESSIONS OF WOMEN

Women artists have been in the spotlight at the DMA this year.  The first few months of the year, Ida O’Keefe’s work was featured and I thoroughly enjoyed the peek into this woman’s portfolio.  Unfortunately, her art was overshadowed by her more famous sister, a sister who tried to shove her out of the limelight.  Reaching back to a pivotal player in the Impressionist movement, the DMA is now offering up selections from the portfolio of Berthe Morisot.  This exhibition reveals it was the male critics of the time who tried to shove a woman artist into the shadows.  Let’s think about that.

Refreshing Art

Before getting to Morisot, I’d just like to say thank you to the DMA, for offering up such delectable exhibitions as O’Keefe and Morisot.  I’ll admit, I was on the brink of not renewing my DMA membership when the Berthe Morisot exhibition was announced.  I fell in love with my museum through exhibitions like Pompeii and Shogun.  I hurried to the edifice every time there was an Impressionist show and cried as I added to my personal visual catalog of Van Gogh’s.  I’ve raved all over the world about our Reves Collection and touted our Dallas Museums of Art theory offered by Rick Brettell.  I’ve haunted shows like Jean Paul Gaultier and Tut with visit after visit, dragging in anyone I could bring.

In recent years, however, I’ve felt a little betrayed.  It’s been Contemporary after Modern after Pop after Modern after Contemporary.  Some of it I’ve enjoyed, like Cindy Sherman’s photography, but most of it just wasn’t gorgeous – and as I’ve said before, I’m into gorgeous.  The last time I was really wowed was back in 2014, when they mounted the exhibition on Nineteenth Century French Florals.  Meanwhile, their counterparts over in Fort Worth, the Kimbell, offered one gorgeous show after another.

When I saw Morisot’s name, I knew someone, somewhere had heard my lament.  I didn’t need every single show to match my personal taste, but I did need some breadcrumbs.  2018 had a few less than dark spots, but it was Morisot who kept me renewing.  Then I met a friend for lunch at the DMA and there it was, the Ida O’Keefe exhibit.  I’m a big fan of Georgia, so it took me a few moments to dial in the fact that I wasn’t looking at her work, but at her sister’s.  I made several trips to the museum to oooh and aaah over the exhibit and said a prayer to the art gods to keep the gorgeous coming.

Berthe Morisot – Reclining Woman in Gray

Berthe Arrives

My prayers were answered in spades.  Berthe Morisot’s work is delightful.  When most Americans think of female Impressionists, they think of Mary Cassatt and because she was an American, we know a whole lot more about her.  However, Morisot was also in the thick of things. She was married to Eugene Manet, brother to painter Edouard Manet, but don’t think she was dragged to fame by his coattails.  She was in her own right an important contributor to the Impressionist movement.

The demands of society at the time limited the scope of her subjects, but not her creativity.  her lovely pastel impressions of the world around her show a keen eye and a sure stroke.  As keen and sharp as any of the other Impressionists, but received by the critics with significant bias.  There’s a great infographic on one of the walls of the show.  It juxtaposes one of Morisot’s paintings with two of the other giants of the Impressionist movement, but their painters were men.  All three pictures of are women in domestic scenes, but while the men are recognized for boldness and creativity, the critics call her painting charming and sweet.

While her work is charming, she was also pushing the envelope.  If you’ll notice in the picture of the woman in the gray dress above, Morisot did not take the paint to the edges of the canvas. While the rest of the world was carefully covering every inch of canvas in paint, she experimented with incorporating unfinished portions of the canvas into the finished work.  She was accused of losing interest and not finishing the pieces, but it was not neglect.  It was a method she incorporated over and over again.

Berthe Morisot – In the Country

At first, she seemed used the trick on the edges of the painting, but she became bolder, using bare canvas in the center of her subjects’ faces as if to say, “I’m doing this on purpose. The woman in the hat demonstrates this tactic.

I must be honest, I find the bare places in the center of the paintings a little distracting, but I admire her pioneering spirit.  Nowadays, we see paintings with the canvas coming through all the time.  When you do see it, thank Berthe Morisot.

I love this show and have already seen it several times.  I hope you’ll go, too.  If you love gorgeous, you’ll love it.  I’ll leave you with one last piece by Morisot, which was perhaps my favorite, but that’s hard to say when there were so many I completely adored.  Like Van Gogh and so many of the artists we now love, Berthe didn’t sell much while she was alive.  Most of her paintings were in the hands of family and friends.  I’m so glad she has been rescued from those hands and put on the walls of museums, where people like me can enjoy them.

 

 

 

Accommodations, Attractions, DESTINATIONS, International, Restaurants & Bars, Road Trips, TRAVEL

Acting Like Adults

TRAVEL THERE: ADULTS ONLY AT THE SEADUST

So, the food wasn’t great, but we were having a pretty good day at the Seadust Cancun Family Resort thanks to our friends at CTC Travel, especially Sandra Rubio.  Hanging out on our balcony, going to the gym, enjoying the beach and playing in the pool.  What’s not to like?  I could have happily gotten another margarita and stayed at the Main Pool, but I feel like I have a responsibility to my readers.  I couldn’t just leave the Seadust without reporting on the Adult Only Pools.  So off we went.

First You Have to Find It

If there is a map of the Seadust property, it’s not posted anywhere, there’s not one in the room and no one gave me one.  We were able to follow our noses and discover most of the attractions around the resort, but some we had to ask about and as for the casino, we didn’t care enough to bother asking.

We could see the Adult Only Pools, the ball courts and a tip of the Water Park from our room.  We found the Water Park our first night.  The pool and the courts we had to ask about.  With a little perseverance, we found the pools earlier in the day, but they were abandoned and we didn’t have on our swimwear.  After our kite and Main Pool adventures, we were properly dressed and interested in what we would find.

The adults only pools are actually one pool and two huge hot tubs.  One of those sit-in-the-water bars graces one end of the pool.  There is a sizable kiosk in the center of the section, which seems as if it would be a great place for a snack bar and grill or a place to sell excursions, but it was empty.  They had some of those double bed-like chaise lounges we enjoyed at Punta Cana, but there was no awning over them.

Then You Have to Overcome Your Inhibitions

Not to worry!  You don’t have to take off your clothes to enjoy the hot tubs, but if you have any germ phobias you might have a problem.  The first thing I noticed was a ring around the hot tub.  It didn’t look like it had been there since the last Ice Age or anything, but it did show a certain level of neglect on the part of the resort. 

When we arrived in the Adult area, the bartender was absent and a couple was trying to pour themselves a beer.  Bill was ready for a beer so he went over to help them.  I went ahead to test the waters and found them to be a very comfortable temperature.  As I went down the steps the bathtub ring caught my eye, but I decided to overlook it.  While I sat there, the bartender returned and caught Bill in the act.  How much trouble can you get for pouring yourself a drink at an all-inclusive hotel?  Apparently not much, because soon Bill and the couple returned.

As we enjoyed the hot tub we shared some conversation with the other couple.  They were Russian, but lived in America.  The woman had started her American residency in Oklahoma, but had moved further north when she married.  I don’t remember what state.

Along with a lot of stuff about their business, we discovered they were in their second week of vacation at the Seadust.  They were having a great time.  They thought the food was fine. They loved their room. They had kids, so they loved being able to abandon the young ones to the kids clubs and have some private vacation time. We told them how beautiful the beach was, how much we loved our balcony and pretty much smiled through their happy description of their time at the resort.  No use tarnishing their vacation with our culinary and architectural complaints.

So like beauty, enjoyment means different things to different people.  The other couple had to go get their kids and the sun was going down, so we headed back to the room to get cleaned up for dinner.  Yes, there are a couple of more meals before our time at the Seadust is over.  Come back next week and we’ll go try out the Big Ben Steakhouse.

ART, Attractions, DESTINATIONS, DFW Metroplex, Road Trips, Shopping, TRAVEL

A Member of the Press

Jane Sadek goes to the Dallas Art Fair
A Gallery at the Dallas Art Fair

TRAVEL HERE: A BLOGGER IN MEDIA HEAVEN

While the rest of the world gets rich and famous with social media, I blog on in anonymity – at least for the most part.  I’m famous among my real life friends and on Facebook among my followers, but beyond that it does me little good.  However, anyone driven to write, the way I am, needs a place to express themselves, so I blog on.  However, from time to time my blogging does get me a few perks.  That happened last week.

Dallas Art Fair

If you’ve been paying attention, then you know this is my third post about 2019’s Dallas Art Fair.  If not, some details about the main event are here and I also attended an introductory event I described on Monday. Last Thursday morning I reported to the FIG (Fashion Industry Gallery) for the Opening Press Conference. There among other media types, I perused the event’s art offerings and listened to a series of speeches by the designated dignitaries.

One of my favorite parts of the day was wandering around the space with a tag identifying me as “MEDIA.”  My thoughts about the media are not always congratulatory, but it’s nice when a lowly blogger like me can be of service.

Getting There

It meant skipping an MLS meeting, but I felt that was a small price to pay to attend the event as media.  Deciding what to wear was a bit of a challenge.  I’d been disappointed in my fellow females’ fashion choices the evening before, but encouraged by the men’s sartorial offerings, I pulled out a recent purchase, a long blouse from one of my favorite designers, to pair with leggings and some lacy wedge sandals.

My next challenge was making my way from my almost-rural home in Heath through the morning traffic to Downtown Dallas.  That went better than I anticipated, but my hope of parking in the DMA parking lot was dashed.  They don’t allow public parking until 10.  I parked in the First Baptist lot, so all I had to do was cross the street to The Fashion Industry Gallery at 1807 Ross Avenue.

I was not completely ignorant of the FIG’s existence and I knew it was in close proximity to the DMA, I just had no idea it was right there, nestled between the DMA and the Fairmont.  The most prominent feature on the building where I crossed the street was a restaurant.  My first guess at a possible entry was a false lead, but I saw someone who looked like they knew where they were going, so I followed.  Voila, I had arrived.

I have a sneaky feeling that anyone with chutzpah and a knowledge of the event could have gotten a media pass.  I saw them selling tickets at one kiosk, so I went up to the next one, where the lady asked, “Media?”  I said, “Jane Sadek, local blogger.”  She handed me my anonymous media pass, but it was the key to a weekend of art, so I was glad to get it –  in spite of the casual offering underlining I was certainly no VIP.

Dallas Art Fair
Shoe Art at Dallas Art Fair

Inside the Galleries

Then came the pay off for missing the meeting, fighting the traffic and searching out a parking spot – I was in. I had about a half hour before the press conference would begin, so I wandered through the galleries.  I’m never sure what to expect from Contemporary Art, but I was happy to discover most of what was exhibited was at least interesting.  I found a little of everything, from robots to hand woven rugs.  I also found craftsmanship.  These weren’t just ideas thrown together for their shock factor.  These were works of love, executed with skill and attention to detail.  To me, that’s art.

Satisfied the exhibit was worth part of my weekend, I planned to return with fellow art lovers in tow.  It was time to make my way to the press conference – which, by the way, was 10 minutes late.  Someone had overlooked tagging the first piece of art in the gallery which would provide the backdrop behind the podium.

Shoes at Dallas Art Fair
More shoe art!

As I surveyed the room I realized the female sector of the population had resumed their domination of the fashion scene, in contrast to the previous evening’s disappointing turn out.  Now, the guys were back to boring and the women were strutting their stuff.  I giggled a bit to myself over the “Dallas in Spring” vibe.  One woman in a fringed-wool, hounds-tooth micro-miniskirt, paired with turtleneck sweater, teetered over high rise booties.  She chatted up a friend in a frilly sundresses over suede boots.  A pair of Asian women, speaking a language I didn’t recognize, wore voluminous layers I couldn’t quite identify above comfortable walking shoes.  Then the denim skirt with the shell anklet over Adidas joined them.  I couldn’t resit taking a few pictures to respond to the rod iron shoes I’d seen in a gallery on the floor above.

A series of dignitaries made speeches at the podium, that’s when I learned I’d seen something cooler than I even realized the evening before. The whole thing is dedicated to the idea of pop-ups and a permanent home for the Dallas Art Fair.  With that kind of synergy, I bet it will be a very interesting spot, so put River Bend on you list of things to check out.

On the evening before, I’d wondered about the significance of choosing 214 as the name of a gallery.  It certainly wasn’t the suite number.  Like the characters in The Purloined Letter, I’d overlooked the obvious – it’s the Dallas area code.  Apparently in international art circles it is a familiar number, one to be proud of.  That cheered me.

Then I was momentarily taken back to my previous disappointment with idea-over-craft art.  As they announced the pieces which the DMA would purchase from the Fair, among the others was an odd, idea-driven installation which I’d seen at 214.  To me it looked like a room which was being set up for a presentation of some kind, but the workers weren’t finished.  Instead various tripods filled the space and the walls had random video showing on the screens.   I peered through the glass plates attached to the tripods, but nothing was gorgeous.

I shook off my disappointment and congratulated the artist in my head for capturing the curator’s attention.  Everyone doesn’t have to like something for it to be art.  Thankfully, the DMA had purse-strings long enough to wrap around other pieces and many of them were enchanting, even to me.

So, I hope you made it to the event.  Thanks to the Dallas Art Fair for expanding my horizons and giving me the opportunity to share the Fair with my friends.

Accommodations, Attractions, DESTINATIONS, International, Road Trips, TRAVEL

Aw, Go Fly a Kite!

TRAVEL THERE: SAND, WATER AND A BRIGHT BLUE SKY

So, pretty much anytime Bill and I head to a destination with a beach, I say, “Bill, don’t forget to pack your kite.”  His kite is a Windsurf Trainer he picked up when we lived in Pismo Beach, CA.  Flying kites was a popular pastime in Pismo and after destroying a more conventional kite, Bill graduated to the large training kite.  On some trips the wind is too strong or not strong enough or there’s really not enough room to fly the kite, but in Cancun, we flew our kite.

A Two Person Job

If the wind is forceful enough to fly the huge kite, then the flier is going to need someone to help them get it into the air.  When we flew the kite almost weekly in Pismo,  we had the logistics down pat and could get the kite up in a very short period of time.

In Cancun, we were rusty, so it took a little longer than usual for us to get the kite into the air.  We had one false start and then fumbled around so much, a hotel employee pitched in to help.  Bill was very frustrated with our efforts until he realized while we’d been fumbling around, the wind had changed direction.  We hadn’t been helping him wrong, we were just in the wrong place once the wind changed.

Bill was almost too frustrated to continue, but as we folded up our gear, a breath of wind teased the kite.  Bill speculated that just a little further down the beach might provide a better wind, because instead of tall hotels, the beach was lined with two-story condos.

Up in the Air

We trudged further down the beach and fairly soon the kite was in the air.  I’m so glad we gave it one more try.  Bill loves flying the kite, but not as much as I enjoy him doing one of the few truly carefree things he likes to do.  Bill has many things he enjoys.  Golf, for instance, but he’s serious about his game, so he’s not carefree.  When his kite goes up, Bill is transformed into this joyful boy I especially adore.  Oh how I wish he enjoyed more things with such gusto and abandon.

We kept the kite in the air for quite a long time.  We didn’t get the kind of audiences we usually end up with in American venues, but the hotel employee assigned to beach duty enjoyed our antics, as did a lady who stopped to video us.  She gave me the idea to get a video of Bill as he handled the kite.  I hope you like it!

Coming Back Down

Flying the kite is the fun part.  Getting it in the air and packing it up to go represent the price you pay for fun.  While the kite was in the air, Bill tried, as he has before, to get me to pilot the kite.  Just as in previous attempts, all I did was down the kite.  The fun was over.  It was Margarita time.  We packed up and headed back to the Seadust.

As we climbed the stairs to the resort’s main pool, I stopped by the bar for a Margarita, while Bill found a pair of chaise lounges.  The water was great and we had fun.  Once out, I sipped on my Margarita and Bill opted for a tequila shot with a beer.

We had one more area we wanted to enjoy before the sun was down. so we headed off to adult pool we’d found earlier in the day.  Come back next week and take a dip with us.

Architecture, ART, DESTINATIONS, DFW Metroplex, Museums, Music, Performing Arts, Real Estate Photographry, Shopping, TRAVEL

Rewind to River Bend

River Bend in the Dallas Design district
The new River Bend development in the Dallas Design District. Image from Cultural Counsel

TRAVEL HERE: NEW DESIGN DISTRICT DESTINATION

So, on Friday, I begged you to go to the Dallas Art Fair.  I hope you did.  It certainly loomed large in our weekend.  However, the Fair’s Opening Press Conference was actually Chapter Two. Chapter One played out on Wednesday evening.  Come along and I’ll tell you all about it.

Out of the Loop

The Dallas Art Fair just had its 11th event and somehow I was completely out of the loop for the first 10. I’ve been busy, but I thought I was paying better attention than that.

However, I love me some Dallas and I take the drive over the I-30 Bridge quite frequently, usually headed down to the Dallas Arts District.  My membership in the Dallas Museum of Art has never wavered.  I keep my eye out for Nasher events.  So, I’m not sure how I became so disconnected with an event like the Dallas Art Fair.

Back in the Loop

While I may not be as plugged in as I used to be, as a regional blogger, some organizations do keep me in the loop.  The DMA, the Perot, Preservation Dallas and the Arboretum all have me on speed dial, figuratively speaking.  So, when I got an email from the Cultural Counsel inviting me to an artsy thing in the Design District, it wasn’t exactly a surprise.  I checked my calendar and then invited the hubby along.

Happy on All Counts

As principals  of a real estate photography company, we are always interested in new construction and new developments.  We arrived at River Bend eager to find out exactly what was going on in this new addition to the Dallas Design District.  At first glance it was comparable to other business/retail spaces all over the Metroplex.  The invitation had mentioned “Late Night Gallery Openings, Clare Woods Book Signing, and SOLUNA Performance.”  Galleries we understood, but the rest had to be discovered.

The invitation had not mentioned comestibles at all, but a happy Art Fair associate greeted us and pointed us towards the serving lines.  Gladly the choices were not limited to cheese cubes and bad chardonnay.  Bill tried a local brewery offering from a series of kegs (I’m dieting again, so I was going to wait for the promised mineral water) and then we headed to the buffet line.  Caterers were whipping out chicken and pork street tacos, shrimp tostadas and corn-on-the-cob.  I loved it all, but that probably had a lot to do with the avocado crema.  Bill wasn’t as crazy about the entrees.  He doesn’t do avocado and I’m guessing the other offerings were a poor substitute, but he loved the corn.  I’d recommend the caterers, but I never found out who they were.

Next stop was a door with a large sign advertising Soluna, the musical portion of Dallas’s Art Month, sponsored by the Dallas Symphony Orchestra.  I was there to get a bottle of Topo Chico Mineral Water.  The space was devoted to the evening’s audio entertainment, an “Icelandic musician” with “signature trolls”.  The music wafted out of the performance space and I could tell it was a little out there for me.  Bill ducked his head in and his main complaint was the overuse of volume.

Continuing down the way we visited a couple of gallery spaces. One only had a few pieces and the other seemed more actively devoted to the consumption of Modelo than the presentation of art.  It was time to head back in the other direction and see what we could find.

On our way back to the center of things, we focused on the ceramic murals of the exterior walls.  A book signing by the murals’ artist was part of the evening’s offerings.  Bill wasn’t fond of the mosaics, but I was more pleasantly effected by the thematic river vistas.  Returning past the trolls, we happened upon some more gallery space and these spaces seemed to be more serious about the art portion of the event.

Our final stop was the 214 space, which serves as a gallery and as the offices for the Dallas Art Fair.  Well-fed and having consumed as much as we could understand concerning the art offerings, we headed home.  The next morning, I’d learn more about what I’d been looking at.

A Few Observations

I would be the first to admit that my taste in art leans toward the figurative and peters out some time shortly after the Impressionists. I find many things to like about contemporary artists who continue the figurative and classical traditions in art, however I have not given up completely on the non-figurative and alternate genres.  I’m still trying, even if I don’t find myself enchanted. So, I’m not a good person to critique the art we saw that evening.

The people watching was spectacular.  I was happy to observe jeans and yoga pants were not the dominating fashion statement.  In fact, the gentlemen, rather than the ladies, were setting the bar.  Socks were so last century for these guys and  all the pants were tight and short.

Winning the award for tightest and shortest were those who wore cuffed pedal pushers. I have no idea of the proper name for these short trousers.  We ladies used to call them capri pants, back in the day.  But trend-setting short pants weren’t all I noticed. The top halves of these guys were also trendy.  Those with longer pants had a sort of khaki/safari vibe to them.  My favorite item on the men was a white straw trilby with a florescent orange band.

The women just did not measure up. They seemed more interested in volume than style, like a pair of harem pants in a loud plaid.  Other versions of comfort were apparent.  The crispest female fashion icon was a sweet young thing in black leather short shorts.  Her long legs were shod in high-heeled platforms with an interesting collection of straps.  Her other clothing and accessories were black and gold.  Her hair was a slick black bob.  Kudos to her for appearing to care whether anyone looked at her or not.  The rest of the women certainly didn’t indicate whether they cared one way or the other.

Wednesday, we’ll head back to Cancun, then Friday I’ll chat about the press conference.  Come back to visit!

Accommodations, DESTINATIONS, International, Restaurants & Bars, Road Trips, TRAVEL

Back to the Seadust Buffet

The Infamous Buffet

TRAVEL THERE: THE RUDEST WOMAN IN MEXICO

As If We Didn’t Already Hate the Buffet

So why did we hate the Seadust buffet?  Well, it had a myriad of choices for every meal, but somehow few of them were anything we were interested in.  What’s more when we finally did pick out something to eat, it was at best mediocre.  The way some people filled up there plates, cleaned them and then went back for more and more and more, we know there were people who like the food, but we didn’t.

We also resented the tiny plastic cups provided for cold beverages – we’re talking juice glasses.  By the time you got a little ice, there was barely room for three good sups of soda.  There was also a tap for beer, but the glass barely held the head of foam, much less providing enough room for a reasonable serving.

Locating a salt shaker was a true challenge and pepper?  HA!  What pepper!

In an effort to be efficient, they whipped up your plate the moment you hesitated in the consumption of your food.  Therefore, one of us had to stay at the table at all times or the food we’d gone to so much trouble to pick out would be picked up.  Since you had to keep going back and forth to get more soda or beer, we didn’t spend much time actually eating together.

How Rude!

The final nail in the buffet coffin was the grill chef at this particular meal.  I decided to try a hamburger, freshly cooked at the grill.  At the grill window, there was a selection of entrees in pans from which to serve yourself, as well as a small refrigerated case with options you could order.

The grill chef was involved with grilling what looked like a couple of large pork loins, so I waited patiently, hoping I could catch her eye.  As I waited, I looked at the small cards defining the offerings in the case, which were in both Spanish and English.  In case you didn’t know, “hamburguesa” is Spanish for “hamburger” and “hot dog” is Spanish for “hot dog.” 

You know how it is when someone is trying to ignore you and hoping you will go away.  I can’t say that I blame the woman.  It’s not like she was the only outlet for food in the room and she was busy flipping the pork.  However, I really wanted that burger.

When she finally gave up and darted a glance at me, I smiled and said, “Hamburger, please?”  A fire flew into her eyes and disgust landed on her pursed lips.  “Espanol,” she demanded with a sneer.  I’m sure I looked a bit gobsmacked as I glanced at the card in the case to remind myself of the syllable which would make my request Spanish rather than English.  I made an effort to wrap my mouth around the Spanish, which she responded to with a snarky correction of my pitiful pronunciation.  She was absolutely gleeful to have the opportunity to do that.

I want you to know this rude lady was the only person who treated me this way throughout the entire trip.  I possess a very pitiful Spanish vocabulary for someone who lives in Texas and passed two semesters of high school Spanish.  I’m pretty good with signage and menus, but conversationally I’m a mess.  Still, I try to communicate in Spanish as much as I can.  I ask for cerveza and mantiquilla, instead of beer and butter.  I say por favor and gracias, instead of your welcome and thank you.  I greet people with hola que tal and if they respond with bueno y tu, then I struggle to come up with a word like magnifico.

This woman thought she was having one up on a stupid Americano.  She didn’t realize I was a blogger with over 2500 followers on various social sites or over 200,000 readers on Trip Advisor.  If you work in the public eye, you don’t know either.  That pain in the neck you’re waiting on might just be a social media maven who can ruin your online reputation.  As it is, I won’t be giving Trip Advisor a glowing report about the Seadust, but I’m also not going pick out this lady and make a big deal about her.  Who knows?  Maybe she was just having a bad day and too many of her other fellow employees worked really hard to make me have a good time.

Besides, I was about to go out to the beach and have a good time.  Come along with me next week.

Accommodations, DESTINATIONS, International, Road Trips, TRAVEL

Saved by the Balcony

Seadust’s Adult Only Pools

TRAVEL THERE: FINALLY, THE SEADUST DOES US RIGHT

After our breakfast, we explored the hotel a little more, discovering a few spots we’d missed before like the adult pool and the ball courts.  After that we returned to the balcony.

Our Favorite Spot

I’ve said it before, but I will say it again.  Our balcony was our very favorite thing about the Seadust.  We stayed out on the balcony for several hours.  I continued to read my book and Bill browsed the internet with his tablet.

I can’t tell you how much we enjoyed our time there, silently sharing some time of relaxation.  Occasionally Bill would show me some nugget the internet had served up.  There would be movement from time to time, shifting our chaise lounges to avoid the direct sun, stepping in the room to get an item or just putting down what we were reading and standing at the railing.

Eventually, our breakfast faded away and it was time to find our lunch – even though that meant going back to the Buffet.  We made a list of the things we wanted to do else where in the resort.

  • visit the gym
  • fly our kite
  • drink margaritas
  • try out the adult pool

A Quick Visit to the Gym

Before we started eating again, Bill wanted to try out the gym.  We’d taken a self-directed tour of the facilities before.  The gym is on a lower floor near the spa.  The entry area is beautiful and serene.  The spa looked quite inviting, but since I can go to a spa at home, I don’t use my vacation dollars there.

The gym was very clean and well-equipped.  A nice attendant welcomed up and offered to help if we needed him.  We went on into the gym and made ourselves at home.

I was wearing flip-flops, but didn’t intend to workout in them.  As I dug in my bag for my closed shoes, the attendant popped by to let me know I was not allowed to workout in flip flops.  Well, duh!  That’s the reason I’m over here in the corner digging in my bag, but thank you for sharing this very obvious information.  I guess they do have people who think wearing flip flops is appropriate for the gym.  I’ve seen people who thought they were appropriate for funerals, too.

Bill was already on the weight machines when I climbed aboard a stationary bike for some cardio.  I was on vacation, so I didn’t dial in a vigorous workout, but after 10 minutes I realized it was a little warm in the gym to workout in comfort.  After another 5 minutes I was off the bike and ran into Bill, who was coming to tell me he was experiencing the same difficulty.

We’d put it off as long as we could.  We were going to have to go back to the buffet.  It was that or the outdoor snack bar at the pool.  We’d watched other people fight off the aggressive gulls and curious pigeons.  So we went to the buffet – again.  This time it was a little more of an adventure than it had been before.  Come back next week and see what I mean.