Tue, 07 Mar 2006

Couple other personal notes from Miami:

  • I told someone a few months ago that I liked the brash wealth of Miami. That sounded wrong, because it came out like an endorsement of the ridiculous gluttony that is Miami- ferraris, huge boats, extravagant parties, etc. When I was home this weekend, I realized that the adjective I love about Miami is exuberant. Miami’s exuberance comes out in a lot of ways- in incredible gluttony, yes, but also in the night life, and the music, and the food (man, the food…), and just the general enjoyment. People in Miami are all (rich and poor) generally doing their damndest to enjoy their lives, and doing that loud and proud. And I love that. And I’m glad I finally have a single word to capture it, and I hope some day I can go back and do the same.
  • Krissa and I went twice to the Chihuly installation at Fairchild. If for some reason you’re in Miami, go. If you’re in Florida, rent a car and go. If you’re in the US, consider getting a plane ticket and going. Chihuly is amazing, and this installation is spectacular. My gallery installation is a little hosed right now, but hopefully I’ll get it up soon and be able to share some of the 400+ pictures Krissa and I took over the two days. In the meantime, the website has some nice, pro shots to give you a clue about what we were drooling over.
  • I got to see my sister play a set or two at a fund raiser for an environmental non-profit she used to work at. Lots of fun. Her CD is still on CDBaby, including links to listen to it in good quality mp3s and low-quality ones (which are easier to link to). My favorite track is probably the first one (listen in lo-fi here), but the family will probably kill me because, as far as I can tell, peaches (also lofi) is the only acceptable answer for ‘what is your favorite deblois track.’ Anyway, fun stuff if you’re into sort of southern acoustic blues folk :) (Think Indigo Girls, sort of, though more mellow.)
  • Like I said yesterday, spent time this weekend talking with my parents about life advice. My father (who really is the american dream personified, in so many ways, and to his credit has never really explicitly pressured me to follow in his footsteps) gave the best advice he has given me in ages: ‘if you ever feel like you are a failure, give me a call, and ask me to tell you about my failures. There are plenty.’ I tend to put him on such a pedestal, at least professionally, that this was really good to hear.