Sunset in Stockholm’s Old Town brings the centuries old buildings to life in warm hues. I reflect. It’s is like walking in an old painting. I can feel the touch of the paint brush, sometimes gentle, other times more intense. Life in vibrant colors.
The streets are still lively at this hour and I melt in like I had never left.
I soak in the history of the narrow alleys guarded by old residential buildings. The echo of little feet running on the cobble stone streets in their Sunday shoes from the 1800s is still there.
And in my mind’s eye I can still see people from long ago drinking from the fountain at the Big Plaza.
From there I walk to the Royal Palace. And from the top of the palace hill I admire the huge canvas opening in front of me. The blue hour in Stockholm.
Leaving the palace and the Old Town behind me, I walk towards the city center.
Crossing the first bridge, I spott familiar buildings, like the Royal Opera House…
… and the City Hall, where I’d gotten married so many years ago. The sky glows in the colors of love. And I feel a profound touch of the Painter’s brush.
I stand here for a long while. As the day is fading away, I walk out of this painting into the next. The one depicting my current realities. And I still feel good.
To my delight, I also get an opportunity to visit an art exhibition of recent works by Lars Lerin at the Liljevalchs art gallery. And I invite you to join me.
Lerin is a beloved, contemporary Swedish watercolor master. My sister is a fan of his paintings, and while I have not seen his much of his work previously, I immediately fall in love with his fascinating watercolor worlds. The play of light is mesmerizing – whether he depicts Nordic nature scenes …
…or ships on the ocean.
His cityscapes are captivating too, not only because of the typical drama of light and darkness…
… but also because he gives us a peek into the life behind the lit windows. Love, disagreements, fights, forgiveness and laughter. Looking at the details in his multi-panel paintings, like the one below from Agadir, Morrocco, I feel touched by the lives of the people living there.
And in his darker paintings, such as the ones below from Syria, the pain of destruction brought by war is palpable.
Whether Lerin portrays drama and darkness or a quiet night camping under the stars, his work moves me. A new fan is born. One of many.
This post concludes the summer 2018 Stockholm series. Thank you for walking with me again. Have a wonderful week ahead.
We hopped on a big ship that cruises between Stockholm and Turku on a daily basis – a newer sister ship to the one pictured above. Slowly this giant navigated the tight fairways in Stockholm archipelago. And we enjoyed the sights of small islands with countless summer houses, an occasional old fort and a magnificent sunset from one of the outer decks.
We sat out there quite a while with a glass of wine before getting something to eat and then retiring to our stateroom for the night.
We arrived in Turku the next morning and after a 4-hour drive we reached our dad’s village in central Finland where our ‘business’ was to be conducted. We met our forestry consultant at a café we used to frequent as kids. It was still there, fresher than ever, and the view from the tables outside was as beautiful as I remembered. A sparkling summer day.
After that meeting, we received all dad’s pictures from our friend and then decided to visit this year’s summer exhibition at the nearby art center, Leporanta, like we had done so many times in the past.
I just love the rolling countryside where this art center is located right next to a lake.
An exhibition there always starts in the front yard of the main building. This year there was a charming collection of cows made from scrap metal. Those cows gave us a big smile. One cow was going from the morning milking session to a dance party in the evening – on a tractor. We thought she looked fabulous. You go girl!
Another one was going on vacation. With a big tiger-cat, mind you.
A third demonstrated milk delivery balancing on a unicycle. What a hoot!
Another new exhibit was the “Heads” of three important looking men. We noted that some very self-important men had just visited Helsinki earlier in the week. Maybe there was a connection…you just never know. These three men were tight-lipped about their meeting.
The metal eagle some of you may remember from 
From there we entered the barns that housed the art works, mostly oil paintings, of several Finnish painters. The barn entrances hosted other types of art…
At the end of the day we drove to our hotel in a neighboring town – past our dad’s house. We decided not to stop there. It was our childhood home and we wanted to remember it just as it had been last fall when we left it.
Looking at dad’s old photos, I found pictures of the house being built when we were very small. In the first picture our mom is still pregnant with my sister and in the second one we are both there, pictured with mom and an aunt visiting with a baby cousin. The house was still under construction. It took several years to build as dad built it alone in the spare time he had from ‘real’ work.
We remembered that there was a small ferry that used to take a couple of cars at the time over a big river. It was always exciting to be on the ferry and, indeed, we passed a road leading to the ferry harbor. Instead of taking us there, the GPS took us over the river on a beautiful bridge built fairly recently. And eventually we arrived to the ‘town center’ of the municipality where the small village was located. We found the church and planted a flower on our maternal grandfather’s grave at the cemetery.
The ‘main street’ we remembered as a lively place with many shops and a nice ice cream parlor, was very quiet. Most of the shops and restaurants were now located in a shopping center half a mile away.
We knocked on the door and a man who lived there kindly allowed us to walk the grounds and take some pictures of the house and the dilapidated cowshed and sauna that were no longer used. Nobody was farming here anymore.
This was the place where we had spent many summers, sleeping in the attic bedroom, playing in the yard and the meadows behind the cowshed. It was surreal and quite emotional to stand there with all the happy memories flooding in. In my mind’s eye, I could see us all gathered there, like in the picture taken when I was almost four years old (our family on the right, our grandparents in the middle and mom’s sisters on the right).
That was a trip to remember. Thanks sis ❤ Remember my toothless smile and the little ‘play corner’ we had as kids?
Thank you for coming along on this nostalgic journey. My next post from the artsy quarters of Stockholm will complete this travel series. You’ll find 
A pleasant surprise, a treat actually, came on my second day in Milan. A memorable dinner at Castello Visconteo. This castle, built in the 14th century, is just over an hour’s drive from Milan. Incredibly charming and a bit mysterious when you arrive at night.
I couldn’t get enough of the beautiful decorations, still partly preserved on the walls and ceilings.
And the 5-course candlelit dinner was delicious, traditional dishes from Lombardy accompanied by Tuscan wines.
I couldn’t take too many pictures at the table, but had to sneak a shot of this perfect Italian version of Crème Brule.
Once my work was done and I had some time to look around, I realized Milan was quite a green city. And I don’t mean the parks. I noticed that people had surrounded themselves with greenery right where they lived. Rooftop gardens, terraces and balconies with green plants were everywhere. I started snapping pictures of a them as I passed different buildings in the city center. Here’s a small sample.
The most amazing green buildings I encountered, however, were the two towers of Bosco Verticale (Vertical Forest) opened in 2014. Together, these two residential high-rise buildings host over 100 apartments and 20,000 plants, among them about 900 trees. I could only get a picture of one of them, but you’ll get the idea.
These trees, shrubs and other plants fight air pollution. They can transform approximately 44,000 pounds of carbon dioxide into oxygen each year. Quite amazing, isn’t it? Needless to say, I was impressed by these green marvels, designed by the Italian architect Stefano Boeri and a large team of specialists.
From looking up, I went to looking down. The traffic scene on any street always included scooters. In fact, one could see long lines of them for rental at some street corners.
And I noticed the many innovative parking practices. Here just one example.
From looking down, I went to looking through…the shop windows at Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II, the worlds oldest shopping mall.
Its construction started in 1865, but there was nothing old-fashioned about it. This mall housed shops of the famous designers of our time.
I went window shopping and saw whimsical fashion creations…some more suitable for the cat walk than my walk-in closet. Or my wallet.
And I saw winter gear in muted colors. More my style, with Florida length cropped pants and all, but my wallet still didn’t agree.
Some shops offered boots too…
…and I passed many windows exhibiting exuberant, colorful bags. The price tags were discretely tucked under the bags, and I guess for the typical customer the price didn’t really matter. I have never been a bag lady, but they were nice to look at.
After seeing this pom-pom-fitted head-gear, I gave up. I would not leave with any of those fancy shopping bags with a world-famous designer’s name on it. So I walked out. And was faced with a wall of faces.
A modern touch on old walls right next to Piazza del Duomo, which is the main city square in Milan. I walked closer and saw the Duomo, Milan cathedral, in all its beauty.
Lots of people and pigeons outside, but the inside was very peaceful. I spent some time there in silent contemplation. And lit candles for each of the two men I lost recently.
When I came out I was greeted by a street musician and the many pigeons calling this square home.
I noticed the lion was yawning…and took it as a sign it was time to catch a bus back to my hotel.
Thank you for joining me on this mini-tour. The always scary-looking beast, Mr. D., and I wish you all a wonderful Halloween week.
Part of the sinking is due to natural compaction of the sediments on the 118 islands that make up the city, but a slightly larger part is due to human activity, such as conservation and renovation of the historic buildings. Some say the huge number of tourists descending on the city center on a daily basis also contributes, at least indirectly, to the sinking. And it doesn’t help that the water levels in the Adriatic Sea are rising due to global warming.
I felt a bit guilty being one of the about 30 million tourists visiting Venice annually. Tourism has clearly made it more difficult for the locals to live, and afford to live, in the city. Many have already moved to the mainland. And tourism contributes very little towards the overwhelming challenges of conservation and protection against the rising waters faced by the residents. I am all for an entry fee for visitors and all the other limiting measures now contemplated by the Mayor and local government of Venice.
I also believe that banning the huge cruise ships from sailing into the lagoon would be a good step in the right direction…just check the 
These thoughts in mind, but happy it was not raining, I set out to navigate my way from the (in comparison) small boat towards Piazza San Marco, or St. Mark’s Square as we call it in English.
Once at the Piazza, I was fascinated by the gorgeous, intricate details of the Basilica San Marco. I just walked around it and zoomed in on one detail after another.
The sights around the Piazza were just stunning. One beautiful building, statue, detail or pigeon next to another.
I stayed there for quite a while and came across this ancient “letter box” in the wall. It was not one of the famous Boca de Leons through which citizens could anonymously send accusations to the Doge. This one had a more serious clang to it. The accusations of crime had to be signed with the name and address of the accuser. If, after a thorough investigation, the accusation was found correct and a crime had been committed, the accused would be punished. Sometimes beheaded. But should the accusation be unfounded, the accuser would be punished. Ouch. Judging from the discolorations around the letter hole, it seems this method of getting justice had been used quite frequently.
The “weatherman”, as Venetians call the angel at the top of St. Mark’s clock tower, predicted overcast skies and some wind but no rain for the day. Encouraged by this good forecast, I decided to take a gondola ride.
I walked to one of the “Gondola stations”. I wanted to see the ordinary houses where people lived, and some of the 430 bridges, cruising through a few of the 170 narrow canals.
And after a short wait I was onboard. My gondolier worked hard to get us out to the Grand Canal. It should be noted that it’s not easy to become a gondolier. While the license is often transferred from father to son, the aspiring gondoliers must go to gondola school, do a formal internship of 6-12 months and pass a practical exam in front of 5 gondola judges. Among the approximately 400 licensed gondoliers today, there is only one woman.
We passed many beautiful buildings and churches exhibiting more exquisite mosaics.
From the Grand Canal we entered the narrow, residential canals, sometimes navigating through traffic jams of gondolas, residents’ boats and water taxis.
Boats were “parallel parked” in the front of the homes just like we would see cars elsewhere.
We glided under some of the beautiful large and small bridges.
And I witnessed, with some heartache, the true romance of gondola rides…a musician and a soloist onboard entertaining a couple. But “O’ Sole Mio” didn’t help to bring out the sun.
The gondola ride was a unique experience to say the least. After the ride, I visited a glass factory. Or rather a workshop and sales quarters of one of the producers of the famous Murano glass. They had a small workshop in the city, while their main factory was…on the island of Murano. I watched the Master create a vase, and of course ended up buying some small, but still fairly pricey gifts.
Walking back to the boat over numerous brides, I got lost. The best way to see Venice, according to some. I noticed I was surrounded by several restaurants and realized I hadn’t eaten since my light breakfast at 5:30 a.m.
After some pizza and a glass of red wine, I regained my bearings. …and encountered some of the mysteries of this unique city.
From behind my Volta mask, I wish you all a beautiful Sunday and a great week ahead.
And an impressive bronze bird, an eagle perhaps, who had settled in the yard more recently.
On the only rainy day during my visit ‘back home’, we decided to visit the annual art exhibition just before it would close for the fall. At Leporanta, paintings are shown in traditional log houses and old barns, but sculptures made of iron, copper, wood, glass and composite materials are exhibited all over the vibrantly green grounds. Here a friend, my niece and my sister are examining handmade glass decorations at one of the log buildings.
I was smiling at the cute family swinging happily in front of the main house: mother, father and son. Family fun rarely seen.
Inside the exhibition buildings we found smaller sculptures and paintings by both professional artists and amateurs. Many different materials, styles and price tags. To my delight I found lots of bird motives. Like this painting on wood boards by artist Marianne Kantanen.
Thank you for coming along. I hope you enjoyed the tour. My last post in this R & R series will bring us back into the nature around our lake ‘back home’.
And Mama Osprey flew over the marsh a couple of times. She looked at us, but didn’t stop at the nest.
And Miss Rosa was demonstrating her now famous beauty routine to her friends, the White Ibis.
We also found a few Snowy Egrets playing at a little mud pool amidst tall grass.
They had a little friend with them too, a Tri-colored Heron. But it was obvious there were some sandbox issues as he was playing more by himself.
After much more rain overnight, I walked by the marsh the next morning with Dylan and snapped an iPhone picture. What a difference! The water level was up 5-6 inches and many birds (the white dots are Great and Snowy Egrets) were enjoying the newly acquired freshness.
Around lunch time I went for a walk again. The marsh was still brimming with birds, but many of them had now sought shelter from the sun in the trees and bushes. It was very difficult to get pictures of them, demonstrated by the Little Blue Heron here. She had now turned almost blue from her very white juvenile appearance just a few weeks ago.
She had lots of company in the trees close by. Several Night Herons were sleeping nearby, like this juvenile Black-crowned Night Heron.
I had to almost crawl on the slippery grass to get a glimpse of Miss Rosa between the branches.
Snowy Egrets were flying back and forth, competing for the best view over the water.
And the loser was not always happy having to leave the best spot. But who would be?
Mama Sandy was back at the nest directing the traffic at and over the marsh. It’s obvious from the disarray of the feathers on her back that she’s still molting. Papa Stanley has not been around lately, I am assuming he took a solo vacation after Lady Cawcaw left the nest. Or a long fishing trip with his pal Steve.
After a while, Miss Rosa got enough of the crowded trees, or maybe she got hungry. She flew down and started looking for food.
I left the salt marsh happy for the birds, who now have lots of food in the previously dry mud flats. In the midst of all the distressing news, it is a privilege to be able to lift up one’s spirit in nature. We cannot allow ourselves to get stuck in the darkness.
Last, I have some other good news as well. My net shop,
To add to the curves, the museum garden also boasts a statue of Dali’s curved mustache.
As you can imagine, there are many beautiful curves inside the building as well, but the only example I have been allowed to photograph is this impressive ‘fire horse’. It stands tall right in the entrance lobby, showcasing its many lit curves.
But how do the man-made curves compare with the curves created by nature? Like this giraffe on the savannah with its soft curves.
Or this Great Egret with its long, curved neck.
And how does any manmade curve, however masterfully created, compare with the perfect curve of the rainbow that hangs there, freely suspended in the air over the bay. Just like that.
And not to talk about the celestial ‘buildings’. The sun just about the dive into the ocean. Flawless, well-lit curves.
Or the moon laying on its belly in the evening sky. An impeccable 
I appreciate all beautiful curves, but I’m sure you can see what inspires me more…what about you?
The skillfully sculpted exhibits featured artists from the 60s and 70s, like Jimi Hendrix…
…and Janis Joplin, both with an impressive hair of soft sand.
Some wild rock bands, like Kiss, were also featured…
…along with good ol’ bluegrass bands. Such an impressive detail. I could almost hear the banjo playing and feel the foot tapping on the sand.
Some classics, like the Glenn Miller Band, were present too.
And jazz of course, here represented by the phenomenal Louis Armstrong.
My visit to this exhibition was just a couple of days after the death of Prince. A sculptor was at work to add him into the parade of musicians who had passed away recently…
…such as David Bowie, here portrayed as Ziggy Stardust.
I really liked this whimsical portrait of Bob Marley. It made me smile too.
And I was intrigued by the fine representatives of the first musicians, the troubadours. They put their heart on their sleeve while serenading fine ladies. Sometimes with mixed success, I guess.
All in all it was a very interesting exhibition of sand sculptures. I am full of admiration for the sculptors and how they are able to create something so delicate yet durable out of the sugar soft sand we have here.
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