New Online, and Physical, Location

Changes. That is what is up, and I’m not just referring to the seasons. I moved Art Ravels over to WordPress, and hopefully you will find that the redirect from www.artsravel.blogspot.com is working. The new permanent address of the blog is www.linneawest.com/blog. I hope you’ll bookmark it, or add/update it in your reader of choice. There’s a link under Subscribe on the left that allows you to follow the blog via RSS, feed reader, or email.

View of Pest from the Buda Hills

I am writing this from Budapest, where I will be living for the upcoming year. As I mentioned earlier this summer, I have been awarded a grant to research contemporary Hungarian art. I am beyond excited and, as you can imagine, this means I’ll be writing more about art in Hungary and Europe and less about New York City. I also have started a personal blog about the experience here: www.ayearinbudapest.wordpress.com. I’d be thrilled to have you follow me there as well.

I’ve lived in New York since 2006 (except for one long hiatus) and have blogged here since 2008, so these are big changes, but definitely ones I feel good about. Thanks to all you who have read, commented, and followed me! It’s been a pleasure reading your blogs and following your thoughts and life changes as well. I hope you’ll stick with me during this next part.

Maine Interlude

Maine has a gorgeous, rugged coastline. I just spent a week around Blue Hill, Maine with family, not doing much besides visiting, eating, and playing with color settings on my camera that I didn’t know I had.

The seaweed there is a bright yellow-orange that reminded me of one of my favorite poets, Edna St. Vincent Millay, who came from Maine.

I shall go back again to the bleak shore
And build a little shanty on the sand
In such a way that the extremest band
Of brittle seaweed will escape my door
But by a yard or two, and nevermore
Shall I return to take you by the hand;
I shall be gone to what I understand
And happier than I ever was before.

The love that stood a moment in your eyes,
The words that lay a moment on your tongue,
Are one with all that in a moment dies,
A little under-said and over-sung;
But I shall find the sullen rocks and skies
Unchanged from what they were when I was young.
-Edna St. Vincent Millay
I imagine the coast of Maine in winter would be a bleak thing indeed. In summer, however, it’s quite glorious.

Good things from across the web…

…descriptively titled.

“This is Seara, my sea rabbit.” 
“Oh, he’s…cute. Thanks for letting me take your picture.” 
“You can pet Seara if you would like. He is very gentle.”
And in other news, I fly to Hungary in 40 days. Nothing is ready, except I did get my passport back. But who’s counting?