Mike and Sarah

Why do you think people are drawn to Philadelphia?

Philly is first and foremost cheap to live and work in.  Paychecks are high while rent is low, so you can find yourself living in an historic building with lots of character and space for very little.  Furthermore there is a lot of converted warehouse space to set up a studio in, more often than not a 10-15 bike ride away, so while we are in an urban environment we can easily spread out.

Aside from that logistical standpoint Philadelphians have a sense of pride for their city, and art serves as a great way for people to give back to their community and inspire our imaginations.

So many times visiting friends have commented on how they envisioned Philly as dirty and run down.  And while we have our rough patches, more often than not, communities are working to create positive changes in their neighborhoods from community gardens and farmer markets, to art communities and neighborhood events.

Location is another aspect, as we are in the crux of the east coast and get a plethora of artists, musicians and attractions on their way to NYC, D.C. or Boston.

A Center City Neighborhood Street

You’ve mentioned that Philly is a culmination of many cities you lived and visited.  How so?

Philly is a combination of many of the world’s greatest cities.  From the ornate architecture and corner cafes with tall windows that make one feel like they’re in Paris, to the brewing and biking scene that are very reminiscent of Portland, to the tree lined streets and front yard oasis’s that are suggestive of Toronto’s neighborhoods, this city has so many different features.

In many ways it is a perfect example of what America is, a collective of different cultures, influences and styles in a city that is now experiencing a renaissance after digging its way out of the industrial revolution.  Philly is a very invigorating place to live right now if you embrace it.

Pumpkin Market

What underground movements are happening in Philly that your average tourist may not know about?

The food scene is certainly undervalued by the outside eye.  On the one hand we love our cheese steaks, an indulging of our glutinous senses that we routinely scarf down to our heart and arteries content.  Yet beneath that are many amazing chefs that embrace local sourced ingredients and infuse them into some amazing dishes.  And while some Philly restaurants lack the pomp and circumstance in their décor, opting for a simplistic candlelight and glass atmosphere, their flavors speak for themselves and allow one to truly enjoy what they are eating.

Paralleling Philadelphia’s restaurant scene are programs such as Fair Food, Farm To City and The Food Trust who have organized farmers markets across the city so we all have the opportunity to cook yummy dishes from local ingredients, as well as organizing CSA’s (Community Supported Agriculture, and connecting chefs with local farmers to get their ingredients directly.

Beer is also an important aspect of our fair city.  Within the city limits there are somewhere around 7 breweries pumping out some amazing craft beer.  Yards Brewery for example is doing a series of Founding Fathers Ales inspired and even crafted by the likes of former Philadelphians George Washington, Thomas Jefferson and Ben Franklin, or Dock St. Brewery which has a delicious beer called the Sudan Grass made from sorghum and Pennsylvania sourced wildflower honey.

Aside from the delicious local brews, there are many amazing watering holes that pride themselves on keeping their taps flowing with suds that embraces the craft beer movement.  Bars like Sidecar, Monks, National Mechanics, Good Dog, The South Philadelphia Tap Room, Graces, Standard Tap and Local 44 all have a great variety of US and imported beers at relatively low cost.  And with these bars comes a renewed sense of one having their local bar, that they routinely frequent, thus getting to know your neighbors in a relaxed setting.

What is one area you’d recommend to check out to get a nice sample of the scene?

Philly has a great deal of neighborhoods to check out, each with their own character.  Northern Liberties is turning out to be really amazing with lots of local shops, restaurants and music venues such as Kung Fu Necktie and Johnny Brendas.  But there is also Fairmont that has a more quasi-urban feel to it with lovely brownstones and a beautiful tree canopy.  The Graduate Hospital area has really created a community feel and delineating itself from Center City with lots of local businesses and a more relaxed feel.

Mike's New Studio Space

You’re opening your own studio in Philly - what will you be making?

My focus is with woodworking.  I really enjoy taking old wood, be it from salvaged beams and joists to used furniture, and coming up with new and fun ways of reconfiguring them into something useful yet playful.  From taking an old desk and lowering the middle portion to turn it into a vanity, to building a large bed loft out of timbers salvaged from a church, my hope is to have fun with wood that would otherwise be tossed.

Reclaimed Window Decor

Does Philly have any current repurposed art/furniture?

Philly has a lot of industrious craftsman.  For example Deckstool creates stools made out of broken skateboard decks.  Or Fabrichorse, who takes old seatbelts from junkers and recycled fabric to create backpacks, bike lock holsters and a variety of other creative apparel.

I think a lot of Philadelphians pride themselves on the DIY concept, and repurposing and recycling is certainly a part of that notion.  Philadelphians also seem to be drawn to everything local, and taking something old within our city and giving it a new life invigorates that sense of locality.

You’ve mentioned an article in the NY Times about the Philly art scene - what’s the article?
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/08/28/arts/design/28philly.html

Walk in the Neighborhood

If you’re interested in Mike’s repurposed furniture, he can be contacted at huntmf@gmail.com.

A special thanks goes to Mike for the interview and both Sarah and Mike for the unofficial photo shoot, among being fantastic hosts and friends!

A friend of mine recently got back from Europe. He sent out a tantalizing email summing up his trip and included links to photos with mini descriptions for each album. As I was reading the descriptions, I realized that I really would rather hear the stories about each photo in person. Then I realized that I couldn’t really remember the last time any of my friends or family sat down to really listen to ALL the stories that went with all the pictures from a trip, whether mine or a friends. I think this is a lost element of traveling, the post-trip. We often get to share snippets of a trip with many people to the point where we get down the 60-second elevator version of it. I for one want to bring back the trip slideshow. Put me on a couch and in front of a projector and tell me every detail of your trip so I can vicariously be there.

Everyone wants to travel but not many people want to listen to others’ adventures. It was one of the oddest things for me to come back from my first big trip and had to sum it up in a short sentence to answer to the general question asked by everyone, “So how was the last 6 months of your life?” One of the most fantastic parts of traveling are the stories that you experience whether airport disasters, experimenting with new food or connecting with a local. Stories need to be told and a key part of the equation is having someone there to listen to them. The trip slideshow is a lost art that needs revival for this very reason. So next time a friend gets back from traveling, take the extra time to really listen to the stories and hope that you have a friend that will listen to yours too! Having been in both positions as the listener and story-teller, this part really completes the trip and keeps the wonderful memories alive in a much richer way than the one-sentence summaries!

sometimes you just have to make your own adventure.

after a mellow week at burning man (no really, I was so burnt out from working this year, burning man was the first chance i had to really relax…and i did. i came home well rested and ready for some vacation time), my former room(soul)mate Helen came to visit, whom I haven’t seen in about 3 years. At her heels was Johan, our Belgian little brother, who lived with us for about a month, couchsurfing in our living room when we lived in Boston. We became a happy little family, with an evil rebellious fourth member who shall remain nameless…but that’s a story for another time.

after a successful day of acquiring smoothies and a new polka dot vintage dress in the haight and exploring the assortment of cell phone charms in japantown…and a night of sipping wine while watching jellyfish and petting sea urchins…we decided it was time for a real adventure.

we planned to be out of the house by about 10 or 11 am, and head across golden gate and up the coast to do some hiking. after shopping for picnic supplies, making ham sandwiches, and a lovely breakfast of garlic cheese scrambled eggs ala Helen, we got out of the house at about noon. Rising above a cloud that appeared to hold the city of san francisco in the rear view mirror, we crossed the golden gate bridge singing the theme song to full house. over the bay and through the woods to a wild and beautiful land…we took curves too fast along seaside cliffs, stopping for pictures and directions, and continued through eucalyptus forests, quaint beach towns, and memories of good times, past. We came to a sign that read “Road not maintained by county” just before the road turned to dirt and gravel, and we bumped our way to the end of the road to the trailhead.

just after 2 o’clock found us on our way down the trail that first lured us from behind our computers by promises of rope swings and waterfalls. It being a weekday, we were thankfully not met with much company. After about an hour of contemplating the possibility of me becoming a japanese pop star and what i would write songs about, we decided on a brief respite in the shade with the comfort of ham and cheese. Johan contemplated aspirations of carving packs of wolves out of wood and Helen daydreamed of the London Olympics. Another hour uphill and i was convinced we finally found the lake. Unfortunately, it was more like a frog pond with no trees nearby that seemed worthy of a rope swing.

Hopeful for bigger and better lakes, we continued along the trail, finding the real lake shortly after. The one full of water and wonder, surrounded by dense woods and a circle of hills. We asked a passing wanderer about the rope swing, and he pointed to a point off in the distance, where a large tree hung over the still water, but said the rope had been cut. Helen was the first to brave the crystal clear water, which didn’t just look like ice, it felt quite similar. She slowly waded into the water, while Johan and I decided fastest was bestest, and dove in. We all headed to the large tree, which looked a bit closer than it was, and slowly but surely paddled our way across the water, enjoying the view of the clouds while floating on our backs. We reached the tree, and he wasn’t lying, the rope was just too short, despite Johan’s attempts at devising a MacGyver plan.

We swam the long trip back across the lake, taking our time to stare into the sky and watch the ring of trees in our peripheral vision as we followed the birds above the water. While we dried off, we took out the book that Helen chose from my library for us to read while we rested, “Where the Sidewalk Ends,” by Shel Silverstein. I read my favorite poem, “hug o war,” and each of us read a few more until it was time to continue. Blissfully serene, and back on the trail, we headed about another mile until we reached the rabbit hole. A sign marked “Unmaintained Trail” (mistaken by Helen as reading “untainted trail,” which led to an inevitable reworking of the lyrics to tainted love along the way) led the way, and we followed single file through dense brush that stretched over our heads and snapped back in the faces of the unlucky two who were not in the front of the line. the hole opened up to the edge of a cliff by the water, where we could hear the rushing river falling to the sea….but where was it?

The third leg of the triathalon (hiking, swimming, and…) was the only path, and it was a steep downhill climb through brittle rock that crumbled under your feet. So down we went, sliding a bit, but bounding like little mountain goats for the most part, until we reached the soft sand. Around the corner was the prize, water cascading through bright green ivy, down the face of the cliff and into the ocean. Alamere Falls, in the orange evening light. A flock of pelicans flew a few feet above our heads, welcoming us to sit and enjoy some trail mix and bananas as our reward. After a photo shoot in front of the falls and a few more poems that are deeper than many of the children reading them will understand until they are much older, we faced the sheer cliff ahead of us, and began the climb.

The journey back took half as long as the trip out, but began a night that reminded us of how close we really are to nature. Along the path, we came across a flock of quails, that quickly disappeared into the brush only feet away, but invisible. By just after 7, we reached the car, and were more than ready to find dinner. Along the dark winding road back to the nearest beach town, we encountered deer, including several bucks who were in no hurry to cross the road, a fox, a hawk, and many more quails and their little head thingies that i love to giggle at. We then reminded ourselves how delicious nature can be, with pulled pork, pork chops, and fish and chips…and many forms of potatoes…under the stars and next to a comforting heat lamp at the Sand Dollar in Stinson Beach.

Tired, sore, and full of meat, we drove through the clouds on a bridge to nowhere, that eventually opened up back in the fine city of San Francisco. It was like coming back from the fantasy world of brilliant pink sunsets and crashing waves to the harsh but familiar reality of flashing lights in a busy city.

One more bridge and we were home. Johan curled up into a ball on the couch as Helen took a warm bath…I laid down and watched a program on the biography channel about the meth problem in America. A successful adventure. Surprise, laughter, and untainted trails surrounded by natural beauty. Along the way, we discovered that the three of us share many things, including a constant hunger for something bigger than us and bigger than what we have, whatever that may be, and have a thousand ideas and a hundred opportunities but are disheartened by the reality of having only one life at a time to live. We’re thinking of starting a business, someday.

On a final note, Helen made a revelation about my life through an argument I made about never wanting to try a white russian. I told her that i was afraid of trying a white russian, because my favorite drinks are milk and chocolate milk, and i am terrified that if i had a white russian, i’d love it, get too drunk on them, throw up (as is the tendency when i drink too much), and never be able to drink chocolate milk again, because it would always make me feel sick. Then she blew my mind and summed up my life story, which will also be the theme of my new Japanese pop album, “White Russian,” coming sometime: “Knowing what you want. Knowing how to get what you want. and fear of losing what you want.”