Here’s a photo of the funky escalators at the Seattle Central Library. I’ve been wanting to post more photos of this library ever since I photographed it when I was last in Seattle. I have three good reasons for posting one today.
- This week is Freedom to Read Week in Canada.
- I’m in Seattle.
- I’ve spent the past two days at the AWP Conference, the largest literary conference in North America. Which means I’ve spent the past two days listening to dozens of panelists talk about writing, reading, editing, and publishing. (Which, you might have guessed, is my kind of heaven.) Which also means I’ve got a whole list of authors to check out as soon as I can get myself back to my own library.
And so, a photo of a library is entirely appropriate for today. Enjoy.
Vancouver’s Olympic Cauldron was lit today to celebrate Canada’s gold medal in men’s hockey. Some claim it’s the only gold medal that matters to Canadians.
I think the athletes who won the other nine gold, ten silver, and five bronze medals for Canada would beg to differ, but, yes, we Canadians are a bit hockey mad and never more so than during the Winter Olympics.
One advantage of being in South Beach on a rainy day, I was pleased to discover, is that the wet made for some nice reflections when the lights came on after dark. Here, again, are a few of the many, many photos I took during my one evening in South Beach.
Editing these photos made me realize I should make more of an effort to do night photography in Vancouver. Since, you know, we do get a lot of the wet stuff here.
Living in a beach town, as I do, I’m always keen to check out other beach towns. Some remind me of Vancouver (sort of ― that would be Cape Town), some don’t make me think of Vancouver at all (that would be Barcelona), and some make me think I could still be in Vancouver (almost ― Waikiki, I’m talking ’bout you).
South Beach is in a category all its own. Separated from the city of Miami by Biscayne Bay, it’s located on a series of barrier islands that front the Atlantic Ocean. The beach itself is massive ― unfortunately for me, the one day I had to spend in South Beach was stormy and windy, scuttling my plans to spend my last afternoon in Florida lying on the beach.
No matter. I had a second reason for visiting South Beach: its architecture. South Beach was developed quickly during the 1920s and ’30s and many of its buildings were built in a similar style. As a result, South Beach has one of the finest collections of Art Deco and Streamline Moderne buildings, with more than 900 of them considered to be of historical significance. The Miami Art Deco District was added to the list of US historic districts in 1979, but many credit the 1980s TV show Miami Vice with providing the incentive to clean up what had become a run-down and crime-ridden neighbourhood.
If you are a regular reader of this blog, you might have figured this out about me: give me a subject to photograph and I’m content, no matter the weather. And so, as it turned out, I had a great time exploring South Beach in the wind and the rain. Here are a handful of the more than 100 photos I took that day.
‘Listen,’ I told him. ‘Don’t be so tough so early in the morning. I’m sure you’ve cut plenty of people’s throats. I haven’t even had my coffee yet.’ ― Ernest Hemingway, To Have and Have Not
Once upon a time, a Canadian twentysomething was registering for her senior year at a small liberal arts college somewhere in the American Midwest. Her timetable was jam-packed as she tried to squeeze in all the required courses she needed in order to graduate. When her advisor told her she had to fit in at least one American literature course (“you are not going to graduate with an English major from an American college without studying American literature!”), she was annoyed. Reluctantly, she registered for the course.
When she showed up to class, she discovered that the prof was a bore, the reading list a snore, and, to add insult to injury, every Friday afternoon she and her classmates were subjected to a reading quiz. A reading quiz?? What was this? High school?? In protest, the college student didn’t read any of the assigned novels. She managed to pass the course, albeit with the lowest grade of her academic career.
The summer following her college graduation, this college student (now college grad) picked up the unread American novels she had lugged back home to Canada. Since she was intentionally unemployed (as she called it), she had lots of time to read. So she read them all.
And that is how one Canadian college grad discovered Ernest Hemingway. Hemingway!! Who knew? For many years afterwards, she fervently declared to anyone who asked that For Whom the Bell Tolls was one of the best novels she had ever read. She was chuffed when a writing teacher once praised her work as being “just like Hemingway’s!” (She didn’t believe him, but she was chuffed.) And when the college grad (now editor and writer) found herself many years later on holiday in Key West, she made a beeline for the Hemingway Home and Museum.
Ernest Hemingway lived on and off in Key West from 1928 until 1940 with wife # 2 (Pauline Pfeiffer). They bought the 3000-square-foot house in 1931; it was, and is, the largest residential property in Key West. In 1937, after Hemingway took off for Spain to report on the Spanish Civil War with the woman who would become wife # 3 (Martha Gellhorn), Pauline built a swimming pool over his beloved boxing ring. After the divorce, Pauline continued to live in the Key West house with their two sons until her death in 1951.
The Hemingway Home and Museum opened in 1964. For the past 50 years, knowledgeable and affable guides have taken tourists and book-lovers alike through the home and garden, which is still furnished much as it was when the Hemingways lived there. Of particular note are the cats that live on the property; there are over 50 of them, all well fed and well looked after. Descended from a six-toed cat given to Hemingway by a sea captain, about half of them have six toes on their front paws.
Hemingway’s Key West period was his most prolific. In spite of the amount of time he spent fishing and drinking, he was able to write two novels, To Have and Have Not and For Whom the Bell Tolls, and many short stories including “The Snows of Kilimanjaro.”
They say Key West is “New Orleans meets the Caribbean.” I have yet to travel to the Caribbean, so I can’t fully speak to that comparison, but I was definitely reminded of New Orleans’ French Quarter when I finally reached Key West at the terminus of the Overseas Highway. And everywhere you go in Key West, you’re constantly reminded that you’re at the southernmost point of continental USA ― which puts you closer to Havana than Miami.
The great thing about Key West is how walkable it is. If you go along Duval Street ― the Old Town’s main drag ― you can literally (no, really!) walk from the Atlantic Ocean to the Gulf of Mexico in half an hour.
Duval is the part of Key West that made me think I was in New Orleans, and happy hour is when the party most decidedly gets going. At the Gulf-of-Mexico end of Duval Street is Mallory Square, where everyone gathers at sunset. Buskers entertain you while you enjoy your sundowner and watch the cruise ships leave port.
The other great thing about Key West is that when you tire of the crowds of people, all you have to do walk over a block or two, and all becomes quiet. You have only the chickens that roam the streets of Key West for company.
There are lots of cute houses. Like this one.
Some of them are well maintained …
… while others could use a bit of paint.
If walking isn’t your thing, you can get around town in one of these …
… or on one of these.
And if you’d rather spend the day at the beach, that’s an option as well.
My only regret about my stroll through Key West is that I didn’t have more time. As I drove away, the sunset in my rear view mirror caught my eye. I pulled over to soak in a few more minutes of the Key West vibe, and then, reluctantly, got back in my rental car and drove away.