Constantine Finehouse – TalkingGrid

Posted on August 8, 2016August 22, 2016 by Frau Kolb

Make Caridad Great Again!!!

Thank you for visiting www.talkinggrid.com! After a long silence, a long hiatus, a more mature, seasoned, understanding of reality is set to grace this rendezvous space, this on-line location, which you have come to cherish as you would an open home where celebrating life is the priority and a buoyant voice forever welcomes you.

Hello, Old Friend! So much has happened since we last met. Sit down. Kick back. There is a feast about to be served. I’m cooking up new stories for you. I wanna nourish your soul and feed your mind with what is possible, probable, and sustainable. Let’s eat up healthy ideas and look to build a world where love rules our actions and defines our conduct. We decide, the quality of our lives, daily we dictate the direction our lives will take with the way in which we approach living. Never shrug off the responsibility you have to create the world that you aspire to living in. We must shoulder creation, since we are the ones informed and blessed by the capacity and responsibility to make of the world we inherit into a garden of earthly delights. The culinary arts, agriculture, theater, fashion, and film all flow from creative souls who sculpt the edifices of culture which will house the findings of future seekers. We must continue our studies, enhance our experiments, combine our wits to make a world we can all find a place, a point, a parcel, and an acreage of love.

I am part of a circle of creatives, artists, that are ever ready to expand your world, with their fascinating insights into Art, Music, Spirituality, and Political Healing, taking you to the edges where the art world and reality kiss each other and keep moving. I come to you with mastery of “The Vacation Approach,” my way of making it from one day to the next, making the most of my time, and resources. I have living insights from, “Cancer with Style,” my second unpublished private handbook for getting on with the business of life, despite setbacks, obstacles, which I will share with you from time to time. (I might even publish some of my new poems and art works here. Image that!)

The staggering health challenges and the blessings that come with suffering have proven to be a portal to my higher self. Death almost ended my musings on art and culture, living and loving, my travel plans, and the perpetual discovery mission I’ve embarked upon, a year ago. It has been one year since my last post. Only today, did I feel strong enough to write to you again and reinstate my wish to inform and entertain.

Mr. Skip Snow, a full time art machine, promises to write to us about the shifting models of the museum level art gallery scene, in Los Angeles, a city we know too well, but eludes comprehension. The Talking grid’s Music Specialist, Joe Rez, promises to take us to the Guns and Roses concert and show us why Axel, ain’t dead yet. The Music Specialist, is also an expert on Chinese Medicine and Acupuncture Master, so don’t be surprised as Talkinggrid becomes, even more reliably, a source of healing for your wounds, aches, and pains. Since this is one with our intention, to heal you with love, laughter, music, art, travel, thereby reminding you of all that makes life a delight.

The Muse, New Mexico based, inspiring beauty and travel guru, Ms. Crane and Mr. Finehouse, concert pianist living in Boston, are sure to chime in from time to time with reports from the frontiers of Food, Art, Social issues, and Music. The Scientist (my husband) Dr. Hartmuth Kolb, may feel compelled to share his latest recipe for bread or holographic 3-D printer projects. We all want to learn from him, since he is so very knowledgeable. I plan to venture to an art show or two, including a group show in New York, sometime in October. Adventures beckon, creativity calls, and you are invited to take a seat at this long and commodious table, laden with possibilities.

So much may happen yet some of it depends on you. You have donated to this open mission before, do so again. Thank you so much for your previous donations, don’t forget that without your donations, comments, and general interest this show won’t shine. The plea is that you put your money into activities and individual projects, ours and others, that mean the world to you. Endorse with your attention and time, that which puts a smile on your mouth, in your eyes, and in your heart.

Thus:

Make Caridad Great Again

by Donating to Talkinggrid.

So simple!

Posted on July 16, 2015August 22, 2015 by Frau Kolb — 3 Comments

May in Manhattan

Miraculously, I managed to pop into Manhattan twice in one month! My first visit, the city had burst into color. Cherry blossoms, tender pinks dominated the street trees. Yes! It was a beautiful visit, spent mostly on the Upper West Side. That trip was gratifying. Yet, on my more recent journey to Manhattan in May, I spent time in intimate discussion, closeness with two of my favorite people in the world.

The Mysterious Madame L., a beauty with a superior mind, and Mr. Constantine Finehouse, concert pianist. In town to participate in a clinical trail at Memorial Sloan Kettering, Hospital. Seeing my little Columbia University fellows, my comrades on extensive romps all over Manhattan, now grown up and immersed in their respective professions, one in the Law and the other in Music, is heartwarming. I came back to The West Coast ready to cope with the reality of my cancer complications, medications, and DRAMA. I returned ready to take action to stop the cancer progression which would soon threatened my life.

The trip to New York City was altogether healing and I managed to cram a good amount of art viewing, with a visit to The Metropolitan Museum of Art, and into the embrace of my dearest friends. Madame L, graciously, invested days into lounging in my grateful company at one-hotel-or-another on Lexington Ave. Champagne in no short supply… We had a great time, as usual. Reading, agreeing, and finding beautiful details to savor. We ate and walked, talked and listened. We reveled in the BLISS that is pure friendship, understanding. Yet, I was tired. Fatigued. Anxious and ill, very ill. She made everything better by being with me. We barely noticed that I vomited, after every lavish meal. Together, my inability to move, became lounging rather than aching. Thank goodness, Madame L was there, keeping me company, sharing secrets, and showing me how flowers grow between cracks in city streets, the poetry of small gestures, and the beauty of sacred pennies (rusted with time and invested with meaning), AH! I love you, Madame L.

However, It was the Male Muse’s, Constanti ne Finehouse, who made my day with Cuban Lunch from a quick, bright, restaurant across the street from Memorial Sloan Kettering, Hospital. He had the right idea bringing his car and making sure I had food that speaks to my heart before retiring back into the hotel room’s spacious king sized bed. We slept. Exhausted.

In the evening, the gallant Finehouse, concert pianist out of Boston, very cool dude, went out and returned with chicken soup and the nastiest but most welcome “New York,” Cheesecake. What a thoughtful human! What a friend! He drove all the way down from Boston to take care of me on a vulnerable day of medical treatment. (I had no idea at the time that soon, I’d consider myself sprightly in comparison to my current shape.)https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Constantine_Finehouse

The city, ever vibrant and packed with much to do was a backdrop to the intense days of conversation and camaraderie. One’s school chums, those met while picking up polish at Columbia University may be the very best remedy for whatever deficiencies in brisk, ardent, and inspiring connection which have afflicted my sensitive soul, lately. Mutual understanding is so precious a gift, exchanging it makes us rich. My New Yorker and Bostonian buddies, The Mysterious Madame L & the favored Mr. Constantine Finehouse, revered concert pianist, and long-term Talkinggrid supporter, made copious amounts of time to connect and cocoon with a very willing me. Ah!

Good times were had, dinner at Amelie on 8th street in the West Village, where that atmosphere was very French, followed by desert at one of my favorite places, since my teenage years, the utterly charming Cafe Reggio in the West Village!

At the Forager with lovely young woman, a new friend... more news later. — At the Forager with lovely young woman, a new friend… more news later.

Saturday Brunch at The Forager, recommended by Blossom V, artist based in New York. There I met up with a young writer, a woman of talent and enormous appeal. We ate and then Madame L. returned to fetch me, and we returned to the gentle sweetness that is our very comfortable and sincere friendship.

I took time on Sunday morning to PoP into The Bliss Spa on Lexington, so close to my hotel for some Spa Time at The Bliss Spa, where I enjoyed the eucalyptus scrub, with viccii shower, and lemon sage mini-massage. Patricia, a former Cruise-Ship Entertainer, had a light touch and a warm heart, making me feel much better, for a moment. (Running out for a quick scrub is a must if you want to remain feeling, open and receptive to the beauty that is living, especially, on a whirlwind weekend spiked with medical drama, trip to New York City.

The Shield she wields looks like it has a big crack down the middle.

Astoundingly, Madame L. and I managed to hit The Pompeii Room at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, one of my absolute favorite places on Earth, before tripping into, “China: Through the Looking Glass,” a smashing, throbbing homage to the cult of cut, fabric, and history in the superb Fashion Exhibit that will knocked my porcelain socks OFF! In a few steps,we crashed into another world, each room was inspired and dark, lights focused on the embroidery, so tight as to bogle the mind, far away from the mundane, and into the temple of commerce where The Image of Fashion Design as a route is loudly tooted as a glorious path to personal salvation.

On Saturday Evening, I poured myself into a fine new knit dress and rolled west to Broadway, on my little black mule sling-backs, balancing, because I had tickets to see, Wolf Hall Part Two, “Bringing Up The Bodies,” the play is by author Hillary Mantel, a gem. The acting was stand out and the lead, an English stage actor, Ben Miles, carried the character of Thomas Moore rise to the height of power in the possibly unfair beheading of our eternal beloved bad good girl, the controversial, Anne Boylen.

When I wasn’t out buzzing around, I was resting in my hotel room. I’m sorry to say that I missed a meeting with a great artist and best on-line buddy. We had dinner party plans and I was supposed to be her date for the evening. She is one of my favorite people and it was a disappointment not to find the strength to make it to our planed meeting. I failed to find the strength to make it, instead having a bit of quality time hugging the toilet bowl… but, that happens when you are in advanced cancer treatment.

Posted on October 2, 2014August 22, 2015 by Frau Kolb

Constantine Finehouse’s Sushi Cure for Paris Nostalgia

Autumn in San Diego, California, 2014

The sun dips into the sea earlier each setting. Summer flings are winding down. A tidy sorrow, fine and knit of tiny mistakes collected over many seasons of living, wraps itself around you… Paris, is a vivid recent memory and you tend to it by reading the history, the canned memories, and the predictable novels set in the twenties, when Hemmingway was a young buck, pushing a pen around with the force of a bayonet. The reading soothes… yet… longing for those little plastic-wicker chairs outside cafes where people sit and read and people watch… how I miss them!

Frau Kolb is in San Diego, California, gripped by a bad case of Paris Nostalgia. POST-PARIS BLUES threatens to strangle our pleasure in being here. How is that? I mean, Paris… yes… is wonderful. But, hummingbirds and butterflies are not at home there! In contrast to the urban wonder of Paris, San Diego is defined by its still unspoiled open spaces and natural beauty. Blue sky triumphant like a blanket of possibility, stretches across the rusty mountain tops in the distance. Nature, wild and inviting, canyons and mountains, call out to those that love to hike. Usually, this bounty of being enthralls me. Yet, now… I keep thinking of the little bookstores in every neighborhood in Paris, which invite a different kind of bounty, an internal exploration, which I so enjoy.

Thank goodness for a perfectly timed visit from a best friend based in Boston, Massachutes. Constantine Finehouse, concert pianist, multi-lingual, multi-cultural, friend to Frau Kolb, long time supporter of The Talkinggrid, POPS into San Diego TO THE RESCUE!

He brings with him urbane sophistication, offhand knowledge of many subjects, and a self reliant independence that makes him the perfect guest. His only need is to practice piano. To this end, he heads out… coming and going like a semi-feral cat. The prey he brings back from his excursions are telephone pictures of another San Diego. The San Diego of under used upright pianos in churches and universities… so foreign, and near!

Daily we make our way, to safety, to the familiar port, the secure harbor with a “little help from our friends.” Whenever we care about another that feeling gives us strength to move forward. Friendships are necessary for mental health. Yet, fitting IN is NOT my strength. I struggle with normalcy and haven’t experienced it much in my life. I’ve given up on the normal, because I don’t understand them and I don’t think they have much patience for us either.

Fortunately, we gather “a little help from our friends,” who aid us in getting on with, “the business of life.” I’m grateful that my most sophisticated and sensitive, Male Muse, a friend for more than a decade of meaningful connection, pianist Constantine Fineshouse, came to visit for a long weekend which helped me transition from being the Parisian Frau, to the well adjusted Southern California Beach Bitch, that some believe to be the real me.

Our conversation flows mostly in English, although we met in an advanced Spanish (grammar) class at Columbia University in New York City. Although, Constantine’s German is nicht schlect, we rarely speak in German or Spanish. We met while were students. Our friendship sprang up immediately and has endured various incarnations. We have matured yet we always allow ourselves a little silly surrender to childish playfulness. The initial spark, which animated the first part of our friendship, a was a delicate little flame, which lasted only a few weeks, snuffed by a small difference in age and my need to go find the real fire to light the hearth that is my heart, capable of warming my soul, for fifteen years going on forever. The small spark, however endured and has survived. Today it is used to maintain the spark of the small torch toward the path of this lasting connection, a trusted and cherished platonic friendship, like a temple built on a solid foundation, which also serves to build up the part of me that needs support and maintenance, which gives me strength to find my little patch of cultivated peace in this ever sunny land. How pleasant!

The fact is that every city, every location, has its merits and San Diego is a town with many fine qualities, besides its beautiful beaches and picture perfect weather. Finehouse, for example, worked his magic on his smart device, (kept hidden, unless needed for specific purposes, Finehouse is NOT one of those people that is constantly fidgeting with his obscenely smart phone). Reading reviews, he finds the perfect a hole-in-the-wall sushi house, next to a parking lot, in an ugly strip mall that serves sushi so good that a line snakes out their door everyday at lunch time.

The quality of the mostly raw seafood served, had my Boston based, highly sensitive Male Muse, Mr. Finehouse, drooling…

San Diego offers dreamy sushi! You know what else…

In La Jolla, we visited Cafe La Rue at the Hotel Valencia. I needed a dose of Parisian pleasure, no matter that we are so very far from France, the source… Paris, inspires. The decor invites comparison with that of a traditional Parisian Bistro or Cafe, it has sweet paintings of Parisian Life, done in 1947, the food is good, hearty, my favorite breakfast they serve is the Toad in a Hole, which is totally delicious, not particularly French, and totally the right kind of comfort food to banish the POST PARIS DOLDRUMS alas the waiters, elegant as they are, speak no French what-so-ever and somehow… here, in Southern California, I am an exotic and strange in my demands for a little sip of sparkling ambrosia, whereas in Paris, everyone seems to understand me, my secret language, my arcane tastes, and hidden expectations. I settled for a glass of, always pleasing, Vueve Cliquot and a nibble of charcuteri and

(pasterized… American versions of) French cheeses… all was edible enough, even almost ideal… what is missing is that open ended ease of Parisian Cafe Life. One is not expected to rush off after a meal, from one thing to the next, in Paris. In the United States eating is something that simply happens for the most part. It is not taken seriously as a pursuit, a focus. People often eat in their cars.

Cafe La Rue, at 1132 Prospect Street in La Jolla, California is a far cry from being fast food. Yet, one is expected to eat, pay, and move along. There is no personal touch, no sense that you matter, that your preferences or presence count. Even though all the waiters and bartenders there are handsome and friendly enough… The missing ingredient, in American cuisine is TIME. People here rush from one thing to the next and savoring doesn’t happen in the context of coming and going. It takes time, conversation, expertly prepared fresh food, and a culture that supports the lingering soul to make meals truly touching like the splendid Lunch for One, I had at Cafe Constant in Paris or the incredible marathon evening at Je Thé… me with Jacky and The Muse and Hartmuth Kolb in Paris, France.