Museum Spotlight: Clyford Still Museum

In almost every art gallery the art on the walls tell a story. Each piece is strategically placed in the room. Two paintings next to each other aren't there by happenstance, a curator is considering their relationship by comparing and contrasting them. The story might be by theme, like these are all Dutch still-life painters or chronologically, these sculptures were all done in 1967. Some art responds directly to the space, perhaps it was even made for it, while others seem juxtaposed. In the case of the Clyford Still Museum, the building was created around the artwork.


Clyford Still's career spanned fifty years of the 20th century. Growing up in Washington state and Canada his early work focused on figurative works of working class people. Around World War II his style moved towards abstraction though still inspired by the figures in landscape theme. In the 1950s he moved to New York and worked with other Abstract Expressionists, like Willem de Kooning, Jackson Pollack, and Barnett Newmann. In 1961, his story takes a different trajectory when he outright rejected the art market and isolated himself on a Maryland farm in order to solely focus on his work.


His interest in figure vs. landscape developed into an obsession with the relationship between canvas and paint. He explores their relationship through strategic use of untouched canvas. The canvas dictates where the paint will go and seems to restrain Still's movements, creating patterns from the separated blocks of color.


The obsession with medium as subject is elegantly carried over into the museum. The entire collection was bequeathed to the city of Denver by his second wife, Patricia (read more on that and the museum's conservation and research efforts on their website here). The building was designed by Brad Cloepfil of Allied Works Architecture in 2009 and was completed just recently in November of 2011. The building provides a background for the paintings but the walls also determine where the paintings will hang and how they relate to the space. Although poured concrete and drywall are different materials than oil paint and canvas, they interact in much the same way with the works of art - the building is background but then the building is subject.


What I mean to say is that walking around the galleries I found myself looking back and forth between the brightly colored oil paintings and the raw surfaces of the concrete walls. They balanced each other so nicely that I enjoyed being in the space just as much as looking at the paintings. (I was also mesmerized by the soft natural light flooding down from the sculptural ceilings. It seemed unusual for a museum.) The building and museum seem to be a continuation of Still's life's work. I am curious to see how they develop over time.

Wardrobe: A Funky Summer Hike

jacket, tank top, bandana, shoes, shorts, sunglasses

Denver style could be described as super casual, hippie granola, tie-dye, with no make-up and Teva sandals, not really the sort of vibe that interests a high heel aficionado. But it also has this funky edge to it that I found quite intriguing.

On a typical day in Denver, you might find yourself hiking through red rocks by day and sipping craft cocktails in a hipster speakeasy by night. These retro Merrell hiking boots perfectly describe what Denver is to me, urban meets outdoorsy. You could even get away with wearing this hiking look from the great outdoors to the bar!

Destination: A Hike Near Denver









We pulled up to the payment booth and rolled down the window. “That’ll be $7,” the park ranger said asking for our payment. As we passed him the money he started going over the park rules, “It’s a drought so no cigarettes. Right now its bear, mountain lion, and rattlesnake season, so boys – you lead the way on the trail.” We laughed uncomfortably. As he confirmed each item on his list of rules and regulations, his voice sounded very affirmative as if he didn’t trust us. “And for future reference no dogs” we looked around at each other in confusion. Usually when someone says that they are saying you can get by this time but here’s the rule for next time. Sort of like when you are pulled over for texting and driving, you act like you didn’t know and the cop gives you a warning. Except in this instance we had no dog. Before we went on our way he warned us of the incoming thunderstorms and asked us to turn back on the trail if we saw inclement weather.

The hike at Carpenter’s Peak Trail at Roxborough was a leisurely trek* up a mountain through red rocks and desert foliage. I asked too many unanswered questions along the way like, what kind of tree/flower/rock is this. What type of bird is that singing? I think there are several different ones. Are they all the same species? Has anyone ever seen a bear? Is that a humming bird? My hiking mates, my sister, cousin, and friend, had no qualms about expressing their annoyance. I then hiked quietly, only slightly aggravating them when I stopped every 5 seconds to take pictures.


The storm the park ranger mentioned seemed to be passing north of us, so despite some thunder we marched along. I loved the way the orange-red rocks popped against the dark sky. It was like night and day all at the same time. Slowly we realized that everyone else we passed on the trail was going in the opposite direction. We must have gotten here later in the afternoon than normal, I thought. Then more thunder. The clouds started shifting and separate groups of clouds began to darken and grow heavy. I asked if we should head back and my experienced outdoorsy companions teased me and urged me onward.

We were almost to the summit, when a couple hurried past us and said, “There is a lot of lightening up there. We’re heading back and so should you.” They gave us a look a mother does when she says “young lady.” I took this as a validation of my previous anxiety and was now begging to return. Disappointed and reluctant they finally agreed. But only half way down it started to rain and we stopped in the woods to determine a course of action. Should we stay or should we go? After more coaxing and dirty looks from other passing hikers, we left.

We ran back to the car with the cold rain drops wetting our hair, clothes, and skin. I've never been out in nature in a storm**. It was terrifying and exhilarating to run through the branches with dusty path underfoot. The rain refreshed me as I sweat while the thunder and lightning motivated me to keep going. By the time we got to the car I was soaked and out of breath. We jumped in and drove back more quickly than we arrived. I exhaled a sigh of relief and thought about the experience. I will never forget the smell of the stormy mountain air and the quietness it brought to the wilderness.


*The national park website says the trail is moderate but I didn't find it to be too intimidating.
**On land. I owe you a story about my time on the stormy seas.

Tips to Travel By: Combating Altitude Sickness

Imagine being hungover for four days. That's how I felt when we went to Denver in March. I didn't realize at the time how much my body was affected by altitude sickness. Headaches, fatigue, slight nausea, bloating, pretty much all the usual symptoms snuck up on me and encroached on my ability to enjoy my time with my family in the scenic mountain resort. I got some great tips from locals though, including my fabulous sister. So if you are whisked away for a weekend of romping in the mountains, here are some tips for keeping altitude sickness at bay:

- Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate. Drink lots of water before your trip and once you are there drink lots more. Drink more thank you think you want to.

- Consume extra potassium. My sister finds coconut water to be exceptionally helpful. My dad recommended adding a touch of lemon juice to cut the taste if you aren't a huge fan of coconut taste, like me. Bananas work too.

- Limit alcohol intake. This one can be difficult for some, especially if you are on vacation and celebrating. I had a beer to calm my nerves before heading down the slopes and I noticed it affected me much more than it normally does (I wasn't drunk skiing! I waited a little bit before heading down.). I'm not saying to completely abstain from that famous local CO beer but do try to have less than normal.

- Rest. I experienced a terrible headache from my altitude sickness and full night's rest and little afternoon catnaps definitely helped take the edge off. I was probably jet lagged too!

Wardrobe: What I Wore: It's a Beer.

Get it?! It's a Beer. A bear-deer. How could I not buy this shirt? Seriously.

Wardrobe: a ski trip

Hat, Gloves, Pants, Aviators, T-shirt, Sweater, Jacket, Wishbone necklace

I got so excited about reliving my ski trip wardrobe that I am bringing you two looks today! One for the slopes and one to relax afterwords. For a day on the slopes you'll want to dress in layers and be sure that your outerwear is waterproof and windproof. It was warm when we went so I didn't need a hat, goggles, gloves or even a jacket! I included them in case you are already planning a trip for next year. Also, don't forget your Ta-Ta Tamer.

After a day of intense skiing, you'll want to as comfortable as possible for relaxing around town or at home by the fire. As you know, I'm obsessed with my mocs so I wore them the whole trip. Because it was already spring time, I didn't have to worry about stepping in snow. Also, this Cosabella bra is one of my all time favorites and it's on sale at JCrew!

Mocs, Leggings, Sweater, Wishbone necklace, Aviators, Bra

Check back later for a What I Wore post! You'll find out what that special purchase was in Winter Park...

Destination: Denver and Winter Park, CO

My sister moved to Denver last year so a few weeks ago Gman, my parents, and I went to visit her. We went to see where she walks when she talk to us on the phone, where she studies, where she rests. We went to meet her friends and try on her lifestyle. We met up with our cousin too for a bit of last chance skiing in Winter Park.

My experience in Denver consisted of little touristy destinations, besides a drive by of Coors field on our way to lunch on a rooftop bar nearby. The weather was hot, my thin turtle neck and jeans were too much, but the sun felt good on my skin. We were closer to it there in the mile high city. Our plan was to scout out Laura’s life, then head into the mountains for a weekend in a ski-town for a little R&R.

I was getting nervous about the prospect of skiing. I only went one other time in my life. I was decent then but I was worried now. They say it’s like riding a bike and as soon as you jump off the ski lift you remember what to do. Everyone else was a lot more experienced. I almost threw up from nerves while we rented our skis.

The snow was almost melted. Puddles of mud remain where only a week ago there were huge piles of snow. Bits of grass peeked out in other places. It was hot too, only a handful of people were wearing jackets with their ski pants (I saw a few spring breakers wearing bikinis!). I could barely take in my surroundings though because I was so distracted with my anxiety. Would everyone hate me if I just stayed at the lodge bar and watched the skiers? This was more in my comfort zone. But before I could finish my beer, which my sister insisted I drink to calm my nerves, we were on our way up the mountain. My mom and I hired an instructor to help me feel more confident (I recommend doing this). When I jumped off the ski lift I knew I was in trouble. My skis were heavy and cumbersome. I couldn’t remember how to get them to stay straight. I started sweating and a wave of heat came over me. I will never get down this mountain, I thought, and panic set in. Tiny children zipped past me and I felt crazy for being so nervous. But there was no muscle memory. I had no idea how to ski or how to get down this mountain. I was on the verge of tears, mostly from embarrassment. My instructor kindly held his poles horizontally and snow plowed backwards while I snow plowed forward holding onto him for dear life.

I was mad at everyone for making me do this and I was embarrassed that I couldn’t. But my instructor (his name was Bud by the way. How perfect is that?) calmed me down and said, “Jamie, in an hour you will be skiing down that mountain with confidence.” I didn’t believe him and just wanted to pay him to leave me alone. But he persisted and sure enough movement by movement I was learning and grew confident. I could feel my muscles working and my skis started to stay straight. I could control my speed and my direction. Heck, I could even look up without panicking that I was going downhill. I definitely had a few more freak outs on steeper parts, but overall I knew how to ski. I did it! I learned a new sport! I felt so proud of myself that the fact that my body was starting to give in to fatigue went un-noticed.

Meanwhile, the rest of my family was having a lovely day on the slopes. Or so I thought. When finally we returned to the lodge (I was about to collapse) for food and drink I found out that my daredevil sister broke her arm snowboarding. How terrible!

my dad and Gman pretending to be stuck in the icy lake

We spent the rest of the weekend sitting around the table in our rented condo eating, drinking (all local beers), and laughing so hard that our sides hurt. After a tough year, I hadn’t laughed that hard in a long time. It felt good to let go and relax with my family.

Sunday we decided to explore the resort area of Winter Park where there were shops and restaurants. My sister had to go back to the doctor for her arm. So while my dad, Gman, and I waited we popped into a few places. I’m not usually one to buy a souvenir and I especially don’t like getting t-shirts, key chains or that type of thing. But we looked around anyways. I saw something that caught my eye but decided to think about it while we had some afternoon beers at the Cheeky Monk.

We sat on the patio in the sun and again laughed until our sides hurt, yet again. It felt so good. My mom and sister joined us and I was completely satisfied with my life sitting there with them. I did have a nagging impulse to buy my prize though, so I snuck over to the shop and bought one for me and one for my sister. Everyone thought I went to the restroom and got a huge kick out of me taking shopping breaks while drinking. (I’m not going to tell you know what it was. I’ll be revealing it on Wednesday! I’m such a tease, I know.)

While we sat there, it was time to remember the real reason we all came together that weekend. We toasted to my beloved Uncle Tom who had passed away one year ago that day. I consider him to be one of my soul mates and it felt like a piece of me was destroyed when he passed. But I couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate his memory than being together and laughing. He had an infectious laugh and I could hear him laughing at my antics and fears, but then being so proud of my accomplishments.

The challenges in our lives can seem overwhelming sometimes. It can seem like we will never get through the day or the experience. I thought my heart would never stop breaking and that my life would never feel normal. I thought I would never ski down that mountain, but I did. I didn’t do it alone though, I did it with the encouragement of my family and with the expertise of an instructor coaching me through each step.

One of my favorite mantras that I say to myself almost daily is, “This too shall pass.” I say it for the good times and the difficult times. Our lives are fleeting and time ticks by without regard for our desires to cling to the moment. So enjoy the ones you’re with and if you are in pain remember that it doesn’t last forever and you can get through it.