The Muse – 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 I have living insights from, “Cancer with Style,” my second unpublished private handbook for getting on with the business of life, despite setbacks, obstacles, which I will share with you from time to time.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 August 5, 2014August 11, 2014 by Frau Kolb — 1 Comment

Je thé… Me, Taste Paris, with Jacky Larsonneur

We were early, the first customers of the evening at Je thé… me, a romantic restaurant known for its good food. We crossed the thick curtain covering the door and into a comfortably furnished, tight, dining room. The host, Jacky Larsonneur, tall and erect, is standing at the center of the room, his mischievous blue eyes sparkling. He pounces on us with the grace of a well fed tiger! We were to be his willing prey for the evening. We loved being the center of his sage and savvy attention.

He ushered us to our padded seats and fully welcomed us to his place, with a touch of formality which would be soon brushed away, he instantly signaled that the ancient rules of hospitality were in effect. We had arrived into the care of Je thé… me, a space where we could put our guard down and swallow the delicious fact that we had entered a restaurant unlike any other. Larsonneur has deftly owned and operated the enchanting restaurant for almost three decades. The space is a home away from home, a well polished jewel of romantic corner kitchens, an absolutely perfect, quintessentially French spot. I’ve quietly dreamt of such places my whole life. In New York, we attempt recreate the energy of such spaces… perhaps Balthazar’s succeeds. The shelves are filled with books, tea pots, and other “comforts of home.” The warmly furnished room is acutely inviting, a place to melt away stress and enjoy a fine meal. The Germans call this feeling, “Gemütlichkeit,” which loosely translates to, “cosy,” or “warm and familiar.” It is a complex word, really… yet it fits perfectly in thinking of the warm embrace of the space, the restaurant, Je thé… me… such a sensual name… such an excellent evening, about to unfold.

Le Vin, the wine, cements a new friendship at Je thé... me in Paris, France. — Le Vin, the wine, cements a new friendship at Je thé… me in Paris, France.

“English?” He asks after a few pleasantries in French. He introduces us to his menu. It was poetry in food, just delightful. Salivating over the options, we allowed him to guide us, making recommendations, choosing which wine we drank. At ease in the roll of Culinary Guide, he takes us on a marvelous trip into a familiar yet new world of flavor. We eat and drink with silent reverence. Other guests arrive. First a man with two beautiful Asian women, who sound 100% California. They are seated on the other side of the attractive room. Later, they come to appear flabbergasted, mouths open, eyes bulging, at the wealth of attention we receive from our talented host. Shortly after an older woman and her (likely) granddaughter appear and are seated. Finally, a young blond couple from Denmark take the table next to us, where they proceeded to make-out passionately for two hours. Did they eat food? I don’t know. I was busy scarfing DOWN my entire plate, making every morsel vanish, worshiping drops of reduction sauces, expertly prepared.

I am transported to a purely sensual zone. Ms. Crane, The Muse, sits next to me on the bench, laughing, making funny comments about the cast of characters around us, the universe, and beyond. Hours slip by, we don’t fret. This is a time reserved for eating, drinking, and conversation. My adoring Big German Scientist husband, enjoys the view, across from us and documenting our good time without being intrusive. Speaking of welcome intrusion… did I mention that Jacky planted his laptop on our table and sang to us, old French songs? He did. He sang to us! He serenaded our table! (How’s that for entertainment?) He has a marvelous voice. He popped his laptop on our table and shared with us a video of him, on youtube singing in a choir as a young boy. He was an angel. He sang solo, brilliantly! The camera loved his blond boy beauty. Oh, Jacky! You are a restaurant man beyond compare! What talent! Pure charm! Je thé… me.

The food was divine. Yet, I refuse to divulge the details of what I ate. Eat bite was a discovery, an explosion of flavor in my mouth. No, I won’t write a laundry list of ingredients. No. Exactly what I ate doesn’t concern others… Unless, of course, they man-up NOW and venture beyond the barnyard gate, to Je thé me… in Paris! Once there, I can imagine, a parade of pilgrims, FRANCO-FOODIES by the herd, hereby and henceforth, respectfully paying homage to Larsonneur’s impeccable hospitality, good wine, and super-fresh French food with bus tours (god forbid) and other (less tacky) fanfare. I will just say: that if one does not live to visit Jacky Larsonneur at Je thé… me, is simply missing out on enjoying living, breathing, singing history in action.

There is no television in the historically preserved room. By and large, French restaurants do not bombard you with advertising while you are eating. French food is to be taken s l o w l y, quietly or boisterously depending on the mood. The music, wine, and incredible quality of the food all collaborate to take you to sacred heights within yourself and in communion with tradition. French food is famous, of course, but when you actually sit and eat food that deserves this degree of reverence it changes you.

I will never again be the same woman. I have changed from the inside out, a part of me, my heart… I think… is now––forever–– French. I do not know IF the Potato Eaters at the other tables felt the same AWE over the delicate, fresh, innovative, yet totally traditional FRENCH cuisine, prepared sensitively, and served with intimate flair.

At our table, Ms. Crane, Hartmuth and I were swaying in a whirl of FOODIE JOY beyond general comprehension. It was a secular, intensely sensual, culinary-come-religious-experience. In this mood, of beyond bliss, the hours passed and we continued eating. Finally, we begged Jacky to pick our desserts. He brought one for each and each was pure perfection with the entree, eaten. WE had NEVER had such a meal, such service! The wine… ah… it was sublime. I shall never recover from this re-introduction to what food can be. Food is a potential space-ship with direct shuttles to heavenly JOY! Now, from the shelf, tumbled one of the encyclopedias on France. (OK, I admit, that I could not resist pulling one of the books off the shelf and perusing it, while the ice wine was being retrieved.) The book popped open, before us and there was Jacky, turning the pages to his Chateau… really? Yes, he pointed to a picture in the book and said that this was his family’s country property. Oh… now my American mind wrapped itself around very foreign concept. His Chateau… WOW!

That our host enjoyed our company was demonstrated in that he invited us to stay with him for a few more bottles of wine. We were out till the earliest hours of the next morning, sitting, conversing, laughing like lunatics well past midnight, playing, and dancing with Jacky. The Muse, Hartmuth, and I Frau Kolb… this evening could be the stuff of legend and myth. We were early, the first customers of the evening for Je thé… me. We crossed the curtain and into the room and found ourselves in a new relationship with the world, with life. We were welcome, ever so welcome, so we stayed and renovated our selves, with intensive healing doses of hilarity, studied frivolity, and unfiltered joy expressed in hearty appetites.

The Muse, Jacky Larsonneur, Hartmuth, and Frau Kolb at Je thé... me in Paris, France. Summer, 2014! — The Muse, Jacky Larsonneur, Hartmuth, and Frau Kolb at Je thé… me in Paris, France. Summer, 2014!

From the ether of fantasy and wishful thinking, surrounding Paris and The Muse, that which prompted this life-altering trip to a new return destination, a NEW cultural base for Frau Kolb & The Talkinggrid from which to learn and grow, the health and happiness of yours truly and those that truly crave a slice of a very good way of life, the French Way. I will return again and again to now beloved Paris, France and specifically to see Jacky Larsonneur and the most romantic of restaurants, where we feel in love, not just with the food, the wine, the host, but also with Paris, Je thé… me.

Posted on July 29, 2014August 10, 2014 by Frau Kolb — 6 Comments

Meeting The Muse, Ms. Crane & Frau Kolb Paris Before Midnight

Evening slowly wraps itself around the glowing Eiffel Tower in a cloudy shawl of sunset orange, royal blue, and burnt electric gold. Tourists, girls in their pretty flower print dresses, sway in a stiff clean breeze sweeping across the Seine, looking up at the bright lights, many sights. We return to our room for showers and a change into less comfortable and more stylish attire. (I put on my travel socks, designed to squeeze the swell out of my foot. They look presentable with my silver 1920’s style beaded mini-skirt, velvet bustier, and white tux jacket.) My male half, HC Kolb, also adorns himself with a good hair brushing and other gestures of appropriate fastidiousness in manly grooming. He arms himself with a high tech camera lens and we are ready to GO!

This meeting with Ms. Crane, The Muse, is a momentous occasion. For those of you regular readers of Talkinggrid, that are familiar with The Muse and our art adventures in Los Angeles, California, remember that The Muse VANISHED into Europe months ago, then suddenly she was spotted making waves and causing excitement, first in Dublin, Ireland, then all over Europe! The Muse has now deigned to perch in Paris for a spell. Who knows how long the city will continue to enchant her? Questions regarding the mysterious and alluring Muse, abound. Frau Kolb is on the case, giving chase to The Muse, across the North American continent and The Atlantic Ocean, Frau Kolb is almost re-united with the one and only, Ms. Crane in Paris, France!

Blessed are those mortals that witness the splendor of The Muse in the exciting embrace of the midnight summer dazzling linguistic and material luxury, of long Parisian nights filled with wandering Lovers, Seekers, and Other Dangerous Folk.

We arrive at the appointed spot. I sit. My husband snaps an phone photo of me anticipating the arrival of The Muse. However, she is graciously waiting, having found a perfect table, downstairs in the sexy red velvet bar where “American Style,” cocktails are served to a rushing cascade of crashing notes in a bellicose serenade of frenzied cat-fight piano playing, in the “American Style,” I assume… just the kind of playing one imagines happens in the snug, tight, sexy space of “Harry’s American Bar,” a joint straight out of countless literary and cinematographic fantasies I’ve harbored since birth.

I felt as though I was slipping into the pages of a well wore book, a beloved fantasy. Yet, not exactly, since I was at my wits end! Where exactly was The Muse? I took the initiative. I marched downstairs. She was there LOOKING FANTASTIC! Could a human be more beautiful? More well proportioned? More striking without lifting a finger? NO! NO! NO! Ms. Crane, The Muse, is perfection embodied. She is. In Paris, France, where Beauty most routinely lounges in every corner of the city, Ms. Crane is the most superlatively at home being. She outshines The Eiffel Tower. I can attest to the intensity of her charm, being that in Los Angeles she ruled my world and her effect is clearly not based on location, location, location. Paris suits The Muse, just fine.