A tale of two cities: my home his home

A neighbor and me, 30th and Dauphin Sts., Strawberry Mansion, 

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA, circa 1953

Martijn dressed for Carnival, circa 1955, Maastricht, 

the Netherlands, Europe

Here I am back in Maastricht my home for almost eight years. I flew directly from Philadelphia, my home for 38 years, via Amsterdam. Philadelphia where I was born and raised and where I spent the last 10 weeks to Maastricht, where Martijn was born and raised, where I will spend the next 7 weeks. Historic cities, these. Philadelphia - America’s Cradle of Liberty, birthplace of the United States of America; Maastricht, where the treaty of Maastricht signaled the birth of the modern European Union. Brick houses and cobblestone streets give way to lush country sides. Parallels abound.

My spring and summer mirror my childhood and recent adulthood, bookended by these two places. Four years after the death of my beloved husband, my soulmate, I journey now to fully tie the ends, to honor and integrate the past in order to wear the present and welcome the future. 

Schuykill River Sunset

Maas River Sunset

Even Philadelphia’s scenic western river, the Schuykill has a Dutch name. At certain spots and perspectives the Schuykill and the Maas evoke each other. 

Obviously, the linkages are for me more personal than actual. I have intentionally chosen to make this bi-seasonal journey one of transition and integration, ultimately to incorporate and transcend the tragedy of losing Martijn too soon. 

My spring in Philadelphia was connective and restorative. The meshwork of friendships and family there enveloped my soul; the sights and sounds enlivened and entertained me endlessly, as I etched my trails across the city of my birth, reclaiming the “I-hood” of my unique upbringing and experiences there. Of course, having lived and loved with Martijn, the I has forever become a “We”, as I am now a soul that has been intertwined by love so deep and so resounding that I am forever transformed. 

And so it was that the part of Martijn that lives on in me, his forever beloved, also came to Philadelphia, the city where he had hoped to live with me as I lived with him, here in Maastricht. And now I touch the soil of his hometown as one who is and will ever be a “We.” I am here to connect and restore. And along the way, I will show you glimpses of the faces and places of this, my other home.

Treasures on the Schuyllkill

This magnificent bronze sculpture entitled

Social Consciousness by Sir Jacob Epstein

sits at the back door of

the Philadelphia Museum of Art

in the left background is

2601 Pennsylvania Ave, my current home 

It is almost impossible to convey the breathtaking beauty of this section of Philadelphia, nestled on the east bank of the Schuylkill River, home to the elegant Philadelphia Museum of Art (PMA), Philadelphia’s historic Water Works, which in its heyday (1820 -40s) was one of the most visited sites in the United States, and the recently completed Anne d’Harnoncourt Sculpture Gardens, dedicated to the PMA’s CEO and art historian, who led the museum to greatness from 1982 until her untimely death in 2008.

Anne d’Harnoncourt

Here is a short film I produced that provides a ‘moving’ testament of the treasures seated on this compact slice of river real estate.

Philadelphia Bicycle Championship Memories

Olympic speed skating champion, Eric Heiden wins 

the very first CoreStates US Pro Championship, June 23, 1985

In the summer of 1985, on a hot and sweltering day, I proudly was at center stage for the launch of what has become a 28 year Philadelphia tradition, the classic bike race that began as a 251 KM (156 mile) European style road competition. My public relations firm, Ingram & Picker, had been recruited to handle every aspect of this one-of-a-kind US cycling event by the newly dubbed CoreStates Bank, previously Philadelphia National Bank or simply PNB. It was a huge challenge for our nascent firm, but one we took on with great guts and gusto - and remarkable success! In addition to garnering incredible international media attention for this event and attracting top level sponsors, we handled the touchy public affairs including conducting countless community meetings with the Manayunk neighborhood whose infamous MANAYUNK WALL was the race’s centerpiece. (A wall is bicycling terminology for a steep incline, in this case an almost 17 percent grade that challenged the greatest of the great who had to mount the wall ten times, the number of 14.4 mile loops the original course took.)  Delicate negotiations yielded an outstanding relationship for years to come with Manayunk, helping to spark that neighborhood’s own successful commercial revitalization. 

This event sealed the reputation of the PR firm I built with my late partner, Shelley Picker, and we grew into the fourth largest firm in Philadelphia with satellite offices in New York and Ft. Lauderdale.

Today, I caught up with the original sports promoter, David M. Chauner, managing partner of American Cycling Group, who brought this concept to our client CoreStates. Here is our interview in the VIP “Winners Circle” tent:

Return of the Native: Philadelphia redux

2601 Pennsylvania Avenue, my Philly Spring 2012 residence

Springtime in Philly

In late April I arrived for a ten week hiatus back in my hometown, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA. I moved away in November of 1988, making my home in Minneapolis, Minnesota for almost 16 years, then on to Maastricht, the Netherlands for another eight. Not exactly a gypsy - rather an urban pioneer wishing to experience life and culture, friendship and career in a wide world.

The past 14 years were spent with my soulmate and fellow sojourner, my beloved late husband, Dutch citizen, keen philosopher, and kind human being, Martinus Anna Antonius Hermse, aka Martijn [MAR-tine], or simply Frog to me. The truth is home was wherever we were together. Creating coziness and welcome for friends, family and colleagues was our second nature. Although Martijn did not like being uprooted he was a unique and flexible fellow traveler, so once we changed locations and built our new nest, he happily readjusted and moved into the future. He was a man of the present moment, never steeped in nostalgia in spite of maintaining long term, solid relationships - we were birds of feather in that respect.

Philadelphia Museum of Art, Van Gogh exhibit final days, early May 2012

Serendipity Abounds

Welcoming me to my new abode was the final weekend of the Van Gogh exhibit at one of my favorite Philadelphia landmarks, the Museum of Art (PMA) which sits directly across the street from my temporary address here! An even happier coincidence  was that my long time friends, David Meyers and wife Roberta Strickler, were scheduled to see the exhibit just after my move in. Karma prevailed, I scored a ticket for their precise time slot, and my Philadelphia launch was encircled with friendship and culture!

 Exiting the Van Gogh exhibit at the rear entrance we are greeted by a Monet moment compliments of PMA’s extraordinary landscaping

 Old friends new friends as I get the bonus of meeting Jeff and Joyce, Roberta and David’s Baltimore friends

Here we are posing before the gates of my friend, Isaiah Zagar’s iconic Philadelphia’s Magic Gardens at 10th & South Streets. Zagar’s mosaic’s dot every nook and cranny of Philly shedding light in the midst of blight.

The five of us ventured from the Art Museum area, aka, Fairmount, to my former stomping grounds, South Street, where I proudly showed off this Temple of Madcap Mosaic, an outsider artist's mecca. 

Reflections

I’ve returned home not simply to visit but to ‘try Philly on’. I began this post testifying that I’ve been an urban pioneer, living deeply in three main cities: Philadelphia, Minneapolis and Maastricht. Now I’ve secured a quiet spot by the sea in South Florida, my Casita Susita in Pompano Beach, a respite from the jarring urban centers. 

However, I am and remain unsettled. Without my soulmate I find I need the larger canvas of metropolis in order to find the social and cultural stimulation that feeds my soul. My home by the sea would suffice if I had more engagement, a broader spectrum of life.

So, I’m here exploring options. I joined a top-notch fitness center and occasionally workout with trainers and yoga instructors and well as simply enjoying the hubbub of the diverse clientele and services like massage, sauna, whirlpool and pool! I walk everywhere with purpose, unlike Pompano where my walk is focused exercise. Here my errands are exercise. My car is spending the spring and summer with no exercise, by the way, resting back in Florida. Here I joined Philly Car Share but have yet to use it, finding my feet are far better and cheaper for city reconnoitering.

Boat House Row

I was fortunate to find a spacious studio to sublet in this Fairmount neighborhood. The middle of Center City Philly is literally 1.5 miles from my door here at 2601 Pennsylvania Avenue, a grand dam of a building designed in 1926 for Philadelphia’s ‘elegatti’. The building has seen her days, but I’m regaling being in this neighborhood I never explored. The building overlooks Fairmount Park, PMA, as I’ve mentioned, the mighty, muddy Schuylkill River (given the Dutch name by its European discovered, Arendt Corssen) with her at times ferocious falls and always elegant Boat House Row. Within 20 minutes walk there is all the best that Philly has to offer from actual woods to world class art to five star dining. 

I’m putting on my Philly lens to bring you along to my hometown. I hope you enjoy the journey over the next entries in the blogsphere. 

International Woman's Day

Six years ago today I was invited as a keynote speaker for the European Parliament Women's Information Network. How exciting it was to stand before the only elected officials of the European Union in Brussels, Belgium, talking about the history of this day, then delivering a lecture on achieving Mutual Gains, one of my speciality topics.

Like so many, I wish for a time when we no longer need to have a special day commemorating women. That will be the era when we simply and naturally stand recognized as 100% partners in the leadership of this planet - fully acknowledged for our separate yet equal contributions to life on 'spaceship earth', as Buckminster Fuller called our globe.

Here's is a film I prepared for last year's 100th anniversary of this landmark event. I hope you enjoy it.

Frogs and Fresh Faces: Around and about South Florida

Large Tree Frog at Boca Town Center Art Fair

Each year around this time the Art Fair circuit begins in South Florida. I enjoy these events for their free entertainment value. There is always great people watching and of course, interesting arts and crafts to behold. This past Saturday, after my early morning outing to Pompano’s Green Market (see entry above), my friend Nitza and I headed to the infamous, Boca Raton, a city that is a destination for many Northern East Coast Jewish individuals, popularized in an 80s television sitcom, The Nanny. As is the case with many affluent enclaves, there are expressions such, “Achieving Boca.” I enjoy Boca Raton for many reasons: the Boca Museum of Art is top of the list, and Florida Atlantic University (FAU) has a sprawling, intriguing campus there, too, complete with the iconic Living Room Theater featuring top notch foreign and art films and a great little cafe that serves you in your cushy, overstuffed leather seat during the film, if you so choose.

Mizner Park is Boca’s true ‘town’s center’ fashioned after a Spanish Plaza and home to countless retail shops and upscale restaurants, not to forget its amphitheater which features live outdoor concerts, many free, all season long.

However, the Art Fair is held in the parking lot of a refurbished shopping mall just a stone throw from its grown-up, indoor upscale galleria cousin, Boca Town Center with anchor department stores like Nordstrom’s and Saks Fifth Avenue. Of all the art fairs I’ve attended in South Florida since moving here, this one is the least stressful. Set in a parking lot, it’s highly navigable, with wider lanes between the art booth stalls, and it is less frantic, somehow, than others which typically line existing retail streets such as the one on Las Olas Boulevard in Ft. Lauderdale that is extremely difficult to explore.

I purchased a very small curved photo frame in silver with ceramic details to hold a newly found photo of the 16-year-old me. But my favorite object of this fair was the large tree frog shown above just waiting to hop onto someone’s garden wall. I’ve got a thing for frogs.

The evening was still young so Nitza and I headed over to the Boca Town Center where we happily munched on falafel sandwiches in pita bread from Maoz, a food chain founded in Amsterdam (go figure) featuring Israeli tidbits. From there we meandered through the mall coming upon an Aveda Store where I needed a product. There we met the charming Samantha who gleefully offered to doll us up at her make-up counter.

Samantha from Aveda dabs Nitza

Nitza, Samantha and Susan ready for a night on the town

We were game and had a great time as Samantha transformed us. I have an affinity for Aveda products having spent 16 years in the Twin Cities where its founder, Horst, held court. Aveda stores always offer an oasis of calm in the frenetic shopping world.

Well, glowing with new glamour that we agreed we couldn’t waste, we headed on the Boca Blue Martini for totally free drinks thanks to my “VIP” membership and an old coupon! There, as we sipped our traditional and Pomegranate Martinis, we were regaled by a live Frank Sinatra sound-alike, enjoyed a happy hour snack and figured out that our whole day out cost each of us less than $15 apiece! Not bad for a whole day’s entertainment.

Okay, so next comes the book, South Florida on $15 a day!

Pompano Beach Green Market

FUN

Even on a chilly morning by Florida standards, with clouds and temps hovering in the mid-60s, the Pompano Beach Green Market was a happening place. Even the Italian Ice stand had customers!

The market’s proper name is GreenMarket Pompano Beach, and it began its ninth season in October 2011, continuing until April. Located in the city's historic downtown, at Flagler Avenue and NE First Street, the Market is open every Saturday from 8AM to 1PM. It is a collaboration between the Pompano Beach Historical Society and the Pompano Beach CRA (Community Redevelopment Authority) which is busy with a few ambitious projects to make Pompano Beach a more vibrant place to live, work, play and vacation in.

FOOD

Here are from L to R: Natasha and Nicolle , the 27 year-old twins of Nina Minnerly who runs Inika foods, a local catering business that features a healthy menu. Inika means "little earth" in Sanskrit, and their website explains that while we live in a ‘small world’, by trying new types of foods and experiences we open ourselves for a vaster experience. Nice philosophy and tasty food. I like their Japanese Udon noodles, Samosas and Spinach pies. Plus the twins couldn’t be better ‘global’ representatives.

Hi, I’m no stinker! Skunk in his cozy human’s pouch

WILDLIFE!

Well, each Saturday the Green Market tries to host a special event. Today, the special guests were adorable skunks who are up for adoption. No kidding. These cuddly critters and their human friends were there to explain that skunks do indeed make good, albeit high maintenance, pets. The Florida Skunk Rescue has more information about these four footed furry friends.

I’m trying to explore my ‘new’ community more deeply. There is a lot to see and do here in sunny South Florida, and as I continue to emerge from the fog of my former trauma of losing Martijn and uprooting myself to an entirely new region, I’m enjoying the bounty here.

Hugo film falls flat

For all the attention to dimension Hugo falls flat
A review by Susan Schaefer

Award winning book: The Invention of Hugo Cabret

I love fantasy and fairy tales – I’m one of those adults who borrows my friends’ children to see the likes of Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter and Disney remakes on the big screen. I write children’s books, poems and stories, and have an abiding respect for the genre.

So the release of Martin Scorsese’s holiday blockbuster, Hugo, found me ready to be transported to the wondrous world of suspended disbelief, magic and three-dimensionality.

Even from the eye-popping opening scene, resplendent with its animated, cinematic sweep through the streets of 1931 Paris and into the heart and mechanics of the train station clone of the magnificent Gare du Nord, I sensed a mental ‘white noise’ – perhaps an overstimulation of the visual cortex that instantly interfered with the essential heart of this story. And it is story that desperately strives to touch our hearts – should touch them.

New Jersey native and author of Hugo, Brian Selznick

Scorsese’s Hugo does not render the true dimensionality evoked by The Invention of Hugo Cabret, the source of this film, written and illustrated by New Jersey native, Brian Selznick. While his five hundred plus page book is impossible to classify, told as it is in words with nearly three hundred pages of illustration, the illuminated epic releases the imagination by slowly and dazzlingly unfolding in true storytelling style. Scorsese kowtows to technology.

Storytelling on film is always a challenge. Who thought that Peter Jackson would be able to take Tolkien’s epic and translate just the right elements to arouse the wonder of Middle Earth? But he did. And even with various directors, the Harry Potter series shares the same critical accolades. Storytelling hinges on character development and identification. For Hugo to succeed at its most elemental level – engaging our hearts – we need all of our senses working in tandem. Although each of the film’s disparate parts are fascinating, even excellent, the film story just never gels. Wiz bang 3D effects, stunning camera work, great story line, and excellent acting simply don’t combine as one cohesive, charmed movie confection. Our hearts are never fully engaged.

As is proper for a fable released at a season known for productions of redemption, such as A Christmas Carol, Miracle on 34th Street, or the ever popular, It’s a Wonderful Life, Hugo simply doesn’t evoke the requisite passion. Instead of magic Hugo verges on maudlin.

It is hard to pinpoint what renders the film so flat – filled as it is with such revolutionary visual effects, and themes of love and friendship between individuals and across generations, redemption, purpose, and a tantalizing fascination with the history of film. But Hugo remains a clever special effects film populated by “A” list actors and interesting historical references.

In another childhood classic tale, Pinocchio, the little woodenheaded puppet is touched by Blue Fairy’s star-tipped wand and turned into a real boy. In Hugo, the “real” boy is touched by Martin Scorsese’s wand and rendered as much an automaton as his mechanical movie friend. Ironically, a key to this tale is a heart shaped key and the connections it unlocks. Scorsese needed a better locksmith for Hugo.

Bob Ingram’s Visit: A former husband is an enduring friend

Suze and Bob rejoin on Pompano Beach at Light House Cove, 11/28/11

Bob takes in the sea breezes and salt air with Light House Point in distance

I guess we’re making a winter visit a tradition as my dear ex-husband, Bob Ingram, and I now mark his second annual visit to my Pompano Beach home. We planned this one to include a long, four-night trip to Bob’s old haunt in Key West. Bob stayed there off and on for a few years and a long time ago, during our time as a couple, we had a stay there as well. This trip, though, Bob had hoped to find his friends, Suzie and Martha DePoo of the famous Key West DePoos, but no such luck. Suzie, well into her 90s had recently passed, and Martha no longer made the Keys her home. They are both part of a famous art family. Martha’s work is really lovely.

Bob gives a thumb’s up to the great Mile Marker 88 Restaurant, a fantastic recommendation from my neighbor Allan.

We left for Key West on Tuesday, the 29th, with perfect, albeit breezy weather and great traffic. I drove. This is a big deal. Since Martijn died I developed a sort of phobia, along with my grief and depression, about driving. This is the longest drive I’ve ever made, and with Bob’s boisterous but welcome banter I found the trip effortless.

We had a great mid-way destination, Marker 88 Islamorada’s gourmet restaurant with it’s killer views and friendly wait staff. We made it from my door - exactly 200.5 miles on the nose - to the Herron House, booked through Expedia, in about 5 hours.

Poolside, Heron House B & B

Poolside looked great but it was the old bait and switch for us! The first room they offered, I guess the Expedia penalty room, was dark, dank and dismal. My heart sank. Eventually we got the little hovel room in the back, one click up from a motel room and with a horrible odor! We made the most of our situation, but I knew there was no way I would last there for four nights.

That first afternoon we walked everywhere, searching for the Bob’s old haunts. After a pretty ambitious loop, we discovered The Gardens Hotel, literally one street away from our B & B, and across the street from one of Bob’s treasured haunts, his friend Chris’ old house where Bob used to stay. Now this is THE SPOT. We tried to change but knew we were unable to get out of our reservation. Alas. As a consolation, we were invited to wander the brilliant gardens, ergo the name, and as our tour guide had a rather affable drunk who claimed to be JRR Tolkein’s cousin. Never mind. We loved this place and if I go back, it’s the spot for me. We happened to find, quite by accident a remarkable Italian restaurant for dinner, La Trattoria, and we were transported from our ‘housing’ misery by an exquisite dinner worthy of Italy herself. Thereafter, accidental tourists that we were, we came upon the newly refurbished Tropic Cinema, an extraordinary homage to real theaters, where we saw the creepy film, "martha marcy may marlene,” which I could have done without.

The next day we jam packed with walking, more great eating, and a ride on the cute Conch [pronounced konk, as in konk on the head] bus which gave us a great hour-an-a-half downtown to the Southern Most Point tour. We were drawn back to The Gardens Hotel where by chance we had drinks with Kate Miano, the wonderful owner. She referred us to a local eatery where we had yet another fabulous meal.

Bob and I had agreed that two nights were reasonable for this trip, so we pulled out of Key West on Thursday, hoping that Herron House management would let Expedia know they agreed to let us out of the contract. We’ll see... fingers crossed.

Spidey Man on Sitar, Duval Street, Key West

Conch Republic Headquarters, Simonton Street, Key West

Errick Johnson at Blue Jean Blues

Our trip back was quick, with good weather, some nice pit stops, and we went for an early dinner and show at my favorite local watering hole here, Blue Jean Blues, where the young and extremely talented Errick Johnson counted as Bob and my favorite part of our week together. Check our Errick’s website and if you can, catch him.

Friday found us at the Boca Art Museum and an exhibit of Federico Uribe. Wild creativity. For this exhibition, Uribe constructed most of his works from shoe laces, and various Puma sneaker parts, from insoles to soles to grommets.

Puma Palm

Sneaker Gazelle

Book Tree

Saturday we had a grand tour of Miami’s Lincoln Road and South Beach courtesy of our next door neighbors, Sharon and Allan Schatten with yet another fabulous dinner at YUCA, Young Urban Cuban American right on Lincoln Road.

Sunday I was busy preparing for my first official party, hosting a bevy of my neighbors for a backyard evening. Everyone brought a dish to share, the weather was perfect and the party was a success.

L to R: Cindy, Barbara, Allan, Sharon and Bob

The week drew to too soon a close with Monday evening bringing us to the Hard Rock Cafe and a concert by Philadelphia’s own, Hall & Oats. Bob is now en route back to his Wildwood by the Sea home, and I’m headed off to a Holiday Party from my Master Gardener Group.

Remembering Mickey Specter Farley

Susan, Bobby Rydell, Mickey Specter

Scioli’s Nightclub, November 1964

Mickey’s 15th birthday

Remembering Mickey Specter Farley

(on her birthday)

by Susan Schaefer

Pint sized pal

First friend

You scooped me up

into your heart

While movers heaved

Daddy’s Jacobean dining room set

Up concrete steps

Into my new life -

Strawberry Mansion to

7726 Gilbert Street, Mt. Airy

Philadelphia Gothic to marvelously modern.

You stood only to my chin

Even at age seven,

But you ‘played’ like a giant

Your stature reflecting

The size of your heart.

Yup, we called you Mickey Mouse

And you spelled your name

M-I-C-K-E-Y, not the Miki

You adopted post-Japan.

And that sultry summer day in 1957

You took me into

Your Mighty Mickey giant heart

And never let me go.

First best friend

Magical Mickey

Your steadfast love

Transformed me from

Only child to sister.

I remember you

and rejoice.

November 19, 2011

Hilary Hahn: A feast for the senses

Hilary Hahn

I don’t often get to sit front row center at a concert. But to see Hilary Hahn perform for the second time in my life there was no other choice. Not only was I able to witness her delicate yet powerful hands with those wrists of rope-like quality, but I was equally entranced to observe the shadows of her eye lashes skate upon her cheeks, keeping time with her sublime strokes and powerful plucks.

And oh, her spectacular gown. A shimmery pumpkin color silk resplendent with huge bursts of appliqué maroon/magenta chrysanthemums interlaced with vine twines fashioned of shimmering crystals. The magnificent flow of this strapless gown regally silhouetted the still waif-like Hahn, who at 31 could pass for 13. With her translucent alabaster skin, regal posture and chignon, Hahn seemed like she stepped from an 18th century Dutch Masters' painting.

Directly prior to the concert, my friend Richard and I attended a lecture by Wine News senior editor, Lyn Farmer, entitled Engaging the Senses: How our senses shape our perception of the world. Farmer is a masterful speaker who reminded us, the audience, to use all of our senses to enhance the experience of the music. From my front row perch this task was easy.

Hilary Hahn herself was as much a feast for the eye as was her music an aural banquet.

Most poignant for me, however, was that I first saw Hilary Hahn 20 years ago at her debut at the age of 12 with the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra. My dear life long friends, David Meyers and Roberta Strickler, took me to this performance where I was transported with the virtuosity of this then child prodigy. So Sunday evening’s concert was not only a banquet for my senses, but a bouquet for my soul as I reflected with gratitude my long-term friendship with David and Roberta.

For a more musical commentary of this excellent albeit challenging (for audience and performer) concert, please click on David Fleshler's review in the South Florida Classical Review. By chance, I had the opportunity to chat with Mr. Fleshler during intermission, and his review captures in delightful detail the nuances of this difficult performance. There was an otherworldly quality to several of the pieces that Hahn commissioned for her ‘Encore’ series, and Flesher agreed with me that the ghostly quality of some seemed an almost ‘sad’ reflection of our unsettled contemporary climate.

Returning to Dutch Masters, I strongly encourage my Dutch friends to make an effort to see Hahn's upcoming concert this Saturday, November 12th, at Amsterdam’s Concertgebouw for the Higdon Concerto: Netherlands Radio Philharmonic Orchestra with Jaap van Zweden. She is sure to please and enrapture all your senses.

Maastricht Revisited4:Visiting vs. vacation

Visiting friends implies being present with them – having intent to connect, converse and hopefully deepen relations. My relationships are oxygen – my lifeblood, my center.

Moving into my third and fourth weeks here the theme for me is truly about connecting and deepening.

A few things have become apparent to me during this return trip. Surely they may have already been apparent to my many friends and family earlier. Martijn’s illness caused a major disruption in the very fabric of my soul that shattered everything and left me only enough presence to dedicate myself to him during his final months.

My European relationships were so critical to my day-to-day healing. I cocooned here in Maastricht. My family and friends here allowed stark authenticity in my grief. I now see how comfortable and valuable these relationships are.

And the place itself – Maastricht. Magical, medieval Maastricht. Where the bones of Martijn’s body lie peacefully under a verdant, Zen-like, even whimsical grave. My name and photo are linked on that reverent site. I am linked to this place as much, or more than to my other homes. And this trip has sealed that consciousness.

Trip to Amsterdam/Rotterdam

One reason for timing of my trip to the Netherlands was to catch the ninth annual free Sporenburg performance of my dear friend, Herman Rouw. Each year Herman and Ton finance this outdoor concert at the tip of the Sporenburg ‘island’ 10 minutes east of central Amsterdam as a gift to the neighborhood. This year Herman selected a number of Dutch composers for his piano recital. I asked Ingrid Regout to accompany me to Amsterdam for the performance and we made a nice weekend tour.

Ingrid and I hop a train from Maastricht to Amsterdam Central

Murder at the Lloyd! We book a room at the Lloyd Hotel located in the “eastern Docklands” where Herman will be performing on Saturday evening, September 3rd. The Hotel is tauted as incredibly forward design, but we found our room a bit over-priced and oppressive. Here’s the designer rug serving as a murder scene!

Happily we took Saturday’s summery weather and made an extensive walking tour of Amsterdam Centrum. This is Bloemengracht, where my dear friends the Soeters have moved.

Merle and Sjoerd Soeters new pad! Note the whimsical whale details at the top!

Later that evening we arrive early for Herman’s concert. Around 300+ people attended!

Herman Rouw, post concert party!

Where’s my bike? The congestion of bike parking at Amsterdam’s Central station bespeaks the dominance of the ‘fiets’ over the auto!!!

Sunday we visit the famous central library designed by my dear friend, architect Jo Coenen.

Ingrid: youth section - that way<<

Rotterdam: A visit with the Frank Family

There was yet another reason for the timing of my trip to Holland - to see Martijn’s long time, best friends from university days, Rob and Therese Frank and their family. However, the visit was bittersweet. In a terrible irony Therese has the precise cancer, anal, as Martijn had. I had spoken and corresponded often with Rob about Therese’s condition. After undergoing the same chemotherapy and radiation treatment as Martijn had, doctors recommend the same serious surgery. Rob asked if I would come visit. They were the friends Martijn asked to see just prior to his surgery, and both came often during his recovery, then decline. I spent a most wonderful day with the Frank family, catching up on our own 16-year history, and learning news from the children. The surgery has gone well and Therese is now recovering.

The Frank family in Rotterdam

Back in Maastricht

More reconnecting and deepening

My sweet Swee

Nadia at Cut Above

Jacques & Pia at Cafe Zondag

Marcel & Geri at OLV Plein

Cheers!

Friday night films outside. Oh Brother where art thou? by the Coen Brothers.

Yet another EPA reunion: Domink, me, Lyse, Lorna and Damian visit from Brussels.

My Maastricht gang: L: Bonnie, Jacques, Ursula, Bob; R: Piet, Pia, me!

Corner games at gelato shop