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The Wet World of Photographer Barbara Cole

Female First (UK), May 2018

It seems to be Barbara Cole’s very nature to defy convention, an innate quality that quite literally surfaces throughout her life and career. Studious but driven in her own direction, as a teenager Cole set out to become a model. Time in front of the camera piqued her curiosity as to what might happen if she stepped behind the lens.  Only a few years after leaving high school, Cole built a career as the lead fashion photographer for The Toronto Sun. Being submerged not only in the world of fashion but also of art, Cole began to dive deeper into photography.

Cole’s transition from modeling to writing and then photography took place in the 70’s when only a few female photographers were working. No matter how bold and talented Cole and her peers were, conventions persisted. In the 80’s she opened a commercial photo studio, eager to take her talent to new and varied depths. However, Cole recalls that she often worked on quintessentially “female” campaigns (i.e. skin care, feminine hygiene, children) while her male counterparts received the higher paying jobs with car campaigns and the like. Not only was she at a disadvantage financially but Cole also felt frustrated by the unfairness of the gender barrier.

Nevertheless, this gender block ultimately bolstered her career. Rather than her imagination taking flight, it went for a swim. Multiple aspects led to Cole’s current underwater fine art photography, aside from industry gender constructs, having a pool was a helpful convenience.

Over the years she has refined and adapted her technique and of late Cole has moved from her four-foot-deep pool to the open ocean. For the pool shoots, Cole checks water clarity days in advance and referencing  her earlier days as a fashion editor, Cole designs the costumes for all of her shows.

Perhaps it is that departure from reality, diving below the surface, away from everything that constantly surrounds us. Maybe it is the element of water itself - its fluid uncontrollability.  By defying Earth’s stasis, with its rules, habits, and definitions, her underwater photography has led to a variety of partnerships. Cole’s extensive resume ranges from emotive fine-art series to active sportswear shoots for brands such as Gravis as well as a collaboration with the National Ballet of Canada. (She has yet to photograph a car plunging into water). While she’s no longer confined to “female” campaigns, Cole often chooses to  work with women. Working in an unconventional environment, often cold, wet, and exhausted from staying submerged, Cole bonds with and mentors the women she works with. A “beautiful collaboration,” as she puts it, exists when women come together in new and divergent scenarios, while holding the common ideals of pursuing dreams and building something new.

In some ways this special atmosphere speaks to Cole - her refusal to follow a distinct path, her ability to adapt to and overcome anything that might try to step in her way. At this point in her career, Cole now notes and expresses gratitude for the independence she has. It was hard earned but she now challenges and inspires women, photographers, models, creative minds, and anyone who witnesses her work to dive into the unknown, even when there’s a chance of sinking, because you will come up swimming.

Cole is exhibiting with Bau-Xi Gallery at Photo London. She is also launching a second monograph of her work and showing her work at Scotiabank for the CONTACT Photography Festival in Toronto.  The photographer was recently the recipient of the International Color Awards 2017 and a number of honorable mentions (Tokyo International Foto Festival for her series “Figure Painting” and London International Creative Competition 2017 for series “Falling Through Time”).

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Setting the Table for Autumn on Nantucket: An Interview with Gabriel Frasca of Straight Wharf Restaurant

Written for Great Point Properties, September 2017

This past weekend, when the sun shone as if it were August, and football fans migrated to The Gazebo, Gabriel Frasca, head chef and one of the owners of Straight Wharf Restaurant, and I sat down to talk about the changing of the seasons and its relation to food.

Quintessentially, spring is the season of rebirth, but as she often does, Nantucket follows her own path.  While spring hints at warmth and the coming of the island’s busy season, fall brings its own resurgence of life. When spring arrives to Nantucket “a lot is almost ready.”  Local crops and seafood continue developing, getting their fill of nutrients to reach the peak of their harvest. Due to our location thirty miles out at sea, Nantucket goes through what Frasca describes as a “delayed but extended season.”  “Fall is whatever you want it to be, it is a ‘pick your own adventure,’” Gabriel adds on.  There is an overlap between summer and the autumn months that lingers and offers “an embarrassment of riches—tomatoes, green beans, pumpkins and potatoes.”

At the notion of green beans and pumpkins, produce I associate with the fall, I ask Frasca if there are any seasonal clichés he avoids when creating the menu. If every restaurant is serving dishes embellished with cranberries and bursting with various squash, does he look for something different?  “Living on an island and being committed to cooking locally, we have ‘x’ amount of ingredients, thus, we alter our thinking to, ‘what is it about pumpkin that we are working with?”  A fun challenge arises.  Frasca continues, “Coming up with ideas is easy, execution is the challenge because things need to work together. Execution solves the clichés.”

After working with Straight Wharf this season, I can attest that cooking is very much a form of art.  Just as each artist strives to create a unique piece of artwork, while using the same mediums that have been implemented since pre-Renaissance eras, chefs use the same foods and spices as the next, but they infuse those combinations of flavors with their own voice and palette.

So what are some new flavors that might be appearing on Straight Wharf’s menu over the next few weeks?  What adventure are Frasca and his team picking?  They are grabbing at some new things.  Bartlett Farm tomatoes have been bountiful this summer but now peppers, potatoes, apples and pears are coming into play.  Right now a pear and celery salad is in the works—simple yet flavorful and full of textures token to autumn.

Aside from vegetables and fruits, Frasca loves working with fish.  The chef is often found preparing whole fish for dinner service so I had to know what he was thinking in terms of seafood.  Now that peppers and potatoes have had all summer to ripen, he will add a more Portuguese inspired palette to the Wharf’s fish dishes.  “Lots of kale, peppers and onions.  It is kale’s time to shine.”  “So will the tender lettuces become the tender kale?”  I ask out of concern to long time Straight Wharf guests.  Not to worry, even as the seasons change, consistency links one part of the year to the next.

When he isn’t bringing in crates of fresh picked veggies from Bartlett’s or educating the staff about the most sustainable catch of the day, Frasca now finds himself with more time to eat out now that the summer crowd ferries back across the sound.  He looks forward to eating at Ventuno because he has yet to eat there this year and the menu looks incredible. Club Car is also at the top of his list as it is filled with people he loves doing things he loves.  One of his two meals out this summer was at Club Car and it was awesome, he needs to get back.  Nautilus is another stop for him for two reasons, “A: They can do everything we don’t at Straight Wharf.  B: Lot’s of people I am very fond of and they do it all so well—excellent level of execution.”

Aside from the flavors, textures, and new ingredients autumn brings, my conversation with Frasca also reminded me that means a slower pace where we can pause, taste and share meals with friends we have become closer to during the craziness of the summer. One reason fall offers various adventures to choose is because the restaurant staff has become so close.  Together, in and out of the kitchen, they can embark on adventures together, supporting and encouraging each other into new culinary and hospitality explorations. Furthermore, when describing the restaurants he cannot wait to visit, people play a huge role.  Old friends draw him back to new places.

Now we all have a little more time to enjoy our little island. Spend Restaurant Week at your favorite spots, or let someone lead you down another fall flavor path.  Make a reservation, take the time not only to eat but also to taste, not only to go out for a meal but also share that meal with someone.  Judging by the wholehearted excitement in Frasca’s description of this season, any adventure you choose is sure to be a deliciously memorable one!  He is sure to be saying cheers to the season, Decorative Gourd Season mug in hand, and a subtle smile at the menu and people that have come together at Straight Wharf Restaurant this season.

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A Penny Overboard

Written for Review Nantucket, August 2017

“What do you mean you’ve never thrown a penny?” My friend asked me incredulously, “I am not superstitious but that I believe in. Always have a penny when you get on the ferry, no matter how long your trip to the mainland is.”

I explained to her that I had never heard of that tradition until after the last time I left the island. All week I hung on to my pennies, repeatedly checking to see that I did have a few pennies in my disheveled wallet. As I got on the ferry later that week I checked again. Sure enough there was my ferry.

The sun finally came out after a very Grey Lady week. I was on the freight boat so there were very few passengers around aside from myself, an older woman who instantly seemed like she carried the female spirit of the island in her, a young truck driver who kept to himself, and another man who join the woman and I on the small deck.

As we slowly chugged away from the dock I pressed the penny in my fingers, rolling the smooth edges around and waiting to turn the corner of Brant Point Light. I was the only one on the deck as we rounded the corner. I pressed the penny on last time and threw it out into the water and watched it disappear through the water to join a trove of coins below. With the sun out and island still in sight I lingered on outside, watching Nantucket get a little smaller as we bobbed over the waves. The woman came out, smiled and nodded and leaned over the rail a few feet ahead of me. We smiled into the sun and wind, taking in the northern contours of the island. The man stepped out at well and leaned back, hands in his pockets, turning his face towards the sun and closing his eyes. One of the ferry operators climbed up the metal steps breaking through the sound of the wind with a jovial voice, “Did everyone make their wish and throw their pennies?”

What are the odds? The first time anyone reminds passengers to throw their pennies happens to be the first trip I came prepared and knowledgeable? Coincidence, timing, little moments and listening, aren’t those all little factors that help us migrate back and forth from this crescent shaped oasis across the sound.

The woman looked confused. I started to look in my pocket for the spare pennies I had spent the week accumulating. The ferry operator sifted through his pocket too, “When you’re passing the light house you throw a penny and make your wish. It’s good luck,” he explained to the woman as I had so recently been told as well. The woman smiled and said she must have a penny somewhere in her purse but the kindly ferry operator was ready and jovially offered her the little copper piece. She looked at it intently for a moment then turned and tossed it to the sea as well.

With a smile she leaned a little forward and looked me with kind eyes. “So, do you live on Nantucket?” she asked with a voice full of warmth and wonder. I looked back at the sliver

of land that was stretching away, “It really feels like home. I’m trying to make the island my permanent home,” I responded, casting my gaze towards her.

She looked at me for a moment, already having been where I stood decades ago.

“She’s powerful you know? The spirit of the island, she’s powerful,” the woman said in a wise and sincere whisper. I grinned at her in agreement.

The woman went on to tell me about the first time she arrived on the docks of Nantucket. Back in the Seventies she came with her son and they stayed for another fifteen or so years, now it had been nearly twenty since the last time to ventured back out to the little haven of land among the sea, wind and fog. The island has changed a lot since her last voyage, as one might imagine. Although there are more shops, larger homes, different faces, it is still Nantucket and the spirit that greeted her almost four decades ago lives on, as alive as ever.

She told me about her days raising her young family. She often made trips out to ‘Sconset where she sat on the beach, listening to what was happening around the island. The same sound of waves and wind that have brushed through and along the shores since the landmass was first created before whalers, locals and visitors settled down. She could feel the energy of the island, a female energy, back then and feels it now no matter how long and great the distance has been between her and the Grey Lady. I looked at her as she spoke.

Completely understanding and knowing what she was going to say. There is no doubt that Nantucket truly has a life to her. Just the day before I had walked along an empty Fishermans Beach with a friend. We had talked about how, especially in the solitude of the off-season, you can really sense the soul beneath the sand, sea grass, streets and water. Now, just a day later, the woman who looked like she might have come out of the ocean herself, reiterated my lingering thoughts.

“You know, I have lived around the world since I was last here. Just this past year I drove across the country multiple times. Still, Nantucket is home, she is home.” We both looked down into the water rushing around us. We followed the swirling paths back to thin line that marked the Grey Lady.

Pennies tossed, stories shared and currents followed. Such tiny tokens, often forgotten under couch cushions or discarded along sidewalks, yet, they hold so much power. With the strength to carry people thirty miles back out to sea and bring strangers of different generations, with many different lives lived, we cast our pennies to the sea and feel the spirit of the Grey Lady keep her hold on us no matter where we go, until we return to her docks and shores.

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Distancing

danfrederick.tumblr.com , January 2017

Writing is funny. I often sit down with an idea in mind & then something completely different ensues.

There I was traveling in Costa Rica for two & a half weeks thinking I would easily have so much to write about, thinking I would have leisurely evenings to spend typing.

Then there is reality. You just can’t escape that factor of life can you?

My first week in Costa Rica I was exhausted. I hardly made it through dinner without yawning and feeling my eyes give way. We would wake up around 8.00 am, walk across the street to the fruit market for fresh mango, bananas and smoothies made with coconut water. Then photo class began, which I loved. Two local photographers would take us to their favorite places around Jaco–mountain views, small towns, fishing villages, a surf board shaper’s studio, hidden beaches with incredible waves. Grab lunch & explore town a little. Throw on a bathing suit & paddle out into the waves to learn a more about surfing. Maybe shower quickly before yoga. Definitely shower after yoga, in the Costa Rican climate any yoga class naturally becomes a hot yoga class. Meet up with who ever was hanging around outside at the school & pick a spot for dinner. Coupled with the heat & never being good at taking naps (in daycare the teachers had to move me from nap time because I kept talking), I was beat. Tired, but appreciating the day & the way that School of the World enabled me to fill it with things I was passionate about, things I wanted to explore more & dedicate time to. All that passion & energy being released was wonderful and exciting and depleting.

To be honest, some nights I set out to write & ended up falling into conversations with the people around me. Part of what I love about the hostel atmosphere is meeting new people. When people travel, removed from the restrictions that come with the patterns of being at home & in a consistent, steady environment, they open up so easily. Everyone has a story to share, even if they never thought so before. Something spurred them to move, break away, pick a certain destination. If I am ever able to get the permission from the people I have befriended in hostels, I would have a blog or book filled with inspiring, insightful, humorous, emotional, & varied tales. True tales. All coming together in a glorious collage of the modern day explorer & person. Perhaps that is all yet to come?

On those nights I realized, I am here, be here, accumulate thoughts & gain new ideas, ways of thinking & looking my listening & communicating with the people who have all just walked into each other’s lives.

This distancing from home also frees us to look back at home. When you’re running solely off of Wifi connection, speaking with the people you usually exchange information with

becomes more difficult. & that is a good thing. I started reading more articles, clicking through news links & so on, trying to keep up with home.

I happened to be traveling at a potent time in modern day America’s history, the inauguration of Donald Trump, his first week of presidential action & the public’s response.

Never have I considered myself a political person. My parents never took a heavy interest in politics & I looked at that topic as a confrontational one. I always wished I new more & invested more time, especially after this election. I had my topics that I always looked into: the environment, education & border relations. Other than that, I veered away. However, in another country, I take up the responsibility to stay connected.

I surprised myself with how impassioned I became with the political activities transpiring back in the US. I fed this interest as much as possible, without detracting from fully being in Costa Rica. As a result, I wrote my last post & now that I am back on US soil, I am maintaining my momentum of political interest and ventured into Boston yesterday to look into the most recent marches on immigration.

So... distancing... It is uncertain but when you break away from your usual life lines you sometimes end up pulling back with even more life & more interest in your life & the billions of lives we share this earth with. I am all about perspective but now & then I disappoint myself when I realize how caught up in one perspective I have become. Here’s to another two months ahead of me to travel, distance, observe, listen & collect. Distance from our individual home brings us all closer to our global home that connects every single human, no matter who, how or what they maybe & why.

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Suburban Italy : A Taste of Montu Beccaria

http://borderfreetravels.com/suburban-italy-a-taste-of-montu-beccaria/ , August 2015

While Milan is filled with delectable cuisine, fine art, ancient architecture, and wonderful markets, the small towns in the countryside are is such an incredible experience, especially the tiny village of Montu Beccaria. This is where my family and I spent three weeks in a one-floor ranch atop cascading vineyards. The drive back up the hill after we set out to explore each afternoon felt like returning home to our corner of this romanticized and wonderful country.

The perfect local water hole, grab a lemon cello, cappuccino or glass of vino at The Roxy Bar. The language barrier is half the fun getting to know Marco and Simone behind the bar and being among the company of boisterous men ready to strike up a conversation. With smiles, hugs, pats on the back and a few English phrases the men become your uncles, grandfathers and tour guides of Italy. Stay long enough and you will be invited to the best lunch of your life. Family style with fold up tables extending down the hallways of elementary schools, we indulged in with homemade Italian dishes that beat any five star restaurant. Steam rising from the dishes carries aromas of oregano, basil, the sea, and homegrown tomatoes mingling together, like the many hands reaching for a plate and taste. My favorite, frutti de mare (pasta with fish) cooked in four foot tall pots and vegetables simmering in tomato sauce decorate the table, each bite punctuated with a deep belly laugh, you’ll leave fully satisfied.

The vineyard owners of Montu Beccaria are thrilled to share their honest sense of love for their community traditions holding true over the generations. Elderly couples still stroll through the streets after sunset. Shops close at noon for siestas as the men return from grape picking. A place where you’ll find no formal wine tours or websites, instead stroll through the vineyards at your own leisure. Walking for miles down the road, hills of grape vines stretch beyond the horizon. Locals are also excited to share the results of their hard work, so much so that they may offer boxes full of their bottled vino.

Visit the local markets, one room shops on the ground floor of homes, scattered throughout the towns and neighboring towns that blend together like the perfect Meritage. With no specific name and hours that fluctuate with the sun and siestas, the best way to spot these shops is by the cartons of fresh fruit that stand on the sidewalk. A few markets offer vegetables, meat, cheese, pasta, and fruit—the staples of an Italian diet.

Mountu Beccaria is an unknown surprise that welcomes you and gives you a home in Italy that you can always return to for a wholesome, purely happy and quiet escape.

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Alley 18 Eats : Sai Gon

http://borderfreetravels.com/alley-18-eats-sai-gon/ , August 2015

Chaotic. Tranquil. Traditional. Complex. After living in Viet Nam for over three months I still stumble over the words to describe it. It is a country of contradictions that come together to make it a mesmerizing, mystical place. Sai Gon, or mapped as Ho Chi Minh City, is a true whirlwind of a city.

A microcosm of personalities, flavors and industry that make Viet Nam confusing, inexplicable and wondrous, wander down Alley 18, where Buddhist flags crisscross above your head as you walk past apartments that open their first floor living space to fruit sellers, various dining options, and laundry shops for $3. Rise early and be ready to barter for the freshest fruit of the day and have lunch just step across the street for a local ‘seven cent’ taste from the spring roll (goi cuon) seller: fresh rolls filled with pork, shrimp and pickled vegetables paired with the homemade peanut sauce. For dinner, venture to the back end of the alley to a yellow apartment on the right through a narrow room, completely exposed to the street. In the back you notice a door leading to the living room where a man and child lounge before a fluorescent TV screen. The women work at the stove positioned on the sidewalk cooking vermicelli with beef, greens and hand rolled pork spring rolls with chili and soy sauce—in Viet Nam the sauces add the distinctive flavor.

Sai Gon can be overwhelming at times, with motorcycles swerving down sidewalks and horns, chatter and construction chiming out the city’s dedication to industry and growth. Still, there are flavors to taste, people to get to know, smiles to share, and activity to partake in enchanting and unforgettable experience in Alley 18.

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Art in Viet Nam : Work Room Four in Ha Noi

http://cetacademicprograms.com/2014/12/11/art-in-vietnam-work-room-four-in-hanoi/ , December 11, 2014

Art makes sense to me. I see how it communicates and offers raw glimpses into someone’s thoughts and reactions or past events and historical periods. I see how it records, shares, inspires and evolves. When I look at art, discuss a piece or artist, walk through a museum or pass by buildings and small architectural details, I feel passionate, calm and blissful.

Not everyone understands and that makes me feel even more closely bonded to art. However, Ha Noi has a group of people who share similar musings and interests with me. I owe it to Christophe Robert, one of the term abroad directors, for introducing me to this community. Our internships were assigned but new options arose, one being to intern at Work Room Four. I emailed Christophe to express my interest and determination to balance this with The Gioi. I read through Work Room Four’s website an innumerable amount of times, thrilled and moved by their purpose and origins no matter how many times I looked over the links.

My first Sunday in Ha Noi, Christophe took Allison, Kaila, Sky and I to Work Room Four’s Second Hanoi Open Exhibit. We pulled up to the two, towering Packexim buildings and took the elevator up to the 24th floor.

How to describe Work Room Four and its space... It is a blank canvas. White walls and gray, concrete floors. You get the sense that you can spill paint on the ground of splatter some on the wall and those actions will be praised and encouraged. The 24th floor is nothing more than a loft or a perch where you can look down to the 23rd floor, but your time is mostly spent gapping at the view. With the swirling staircase that takes you from the one floor to the next and the two story high floor to ceiling windows, the space flows and breathes. The view of the apartments, alley ways and main road that lead up to the Red River offers and inspiring view that is constantly moving with passing motorbikes, people and cargo boats. The view is a piece of visual art on its own.

Then there is Claire, the co-creator of Work Room Four. She delivers knowledge, ideas and witty remarks with a sweet British accent that packs a light punch in shoulder, always kind but also able to hold its own and be assertive in a way that makes you listen and respect. Her style is simple and admirable. Usually dressed in gray, icy blue and pale yellow with her white blond hair, Claire’s style is her personality and her interests. I truly admire Claire.

Back in London she earned a degree in fashion and various companies and projects have picked up her designs, but you have to read her online bio to get the full story. Rather than share her success, Claire is one to ask questions and she looks at you while you speak, absorbing and wondering, clearly a constantly thinking, creative mind. She will ask about

our families, upbringing and interests and then probe a little deeper from there, but in no way forceful, just thoughtful. I appreciate the interest she takes in every detail. She always notices the details, which is perhaps why she makes such wonderfully simple and pleasing bags, scarves and prints. Her talent is subtle but very much praise worthy. I enjoy her palate of grey, light blue, brown, khaki, denim and cream. She gets rid of the baggage and focuses on line, shape and angle.

After emailing Claire a few times and briefly meeting her among the buzz of the Second Hanoi Open Art Exhibit, Kaila and I went to Work Room Four on our free Saturdays. While I would do anything to sit in Work Room Four for any amount of time, our projects included researching art grants and funding, organizing a storage closet (actually very enjoyable), learning how to make prints, arriving at 6.00 am to pack up for art shows and helping at the various shows. I am eternally appreciative for the time I spent with Claire and Work Room Four. It is an incredible place with a great goal of uniting local and foreign artists in order to offer a space that increases the exchange of inspiration and techniques, enabling room to wonder, create, share and collaborate. Art is a force and Claire and Work Room Four are helping to light the fire in Viet Nam.

Once introduced to Work Room Four, it is a place you crave. You want to live there. Its sleek appearance awakens your mind, removing any overwhelming elements and inviting you to fill the space. I loved my time perched up on the 23rd and 24th floors, floating about the Red River, too high to hear the horns, listening to good music and feeling inspired.

This space and these people showed me how, once given the access, anything can be possible in Viet Nam. I received insight not only into the art world, which I will carry with me forever, but also into living abroad, following whims and sticking through your passion. Thank you for the experience.

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The Resilient Women

http://danfrederick.tumblr.com , November 13, 2014

We walked up a muddy road with stilted homes standing along the path. A pond of ducks marked the turn towards the first house. On our walk, women with leathery skin and embroidered skirts and blouses waved and smiled toothless smiles. In the first house we took off our shoes and walk up a ladder to the one room for sleeping and storage. A blanket curtained off the cleaning area where a bin of water and plates sat. Massive bags of rice piled up the opposite the space. The two little girls were off at school but mattress rolls marked where they slept. The woman of the house greeted us with tea, a shy smile and scanning but peaceful eyes. She looked so healthy and strong, even after she shared her story.

Lana—I really have no clue what we would do without her, for so many reasons— translated, always our bridge and unifier. Both the woman and her husband have AIDS. Her kids do not but they do have blood cancer. Like many men in the village hers works in the coalmines about five hours away in Ha Long Bay, coming home every two months. They rely on small plot of rice to feed the family.

Practically raising two girls on her own, while battling her own health, she worries and cares for her daughters, sending them to school while she farms the rice. Her story puzzled me as it contrasted some of the facts I thought I knew about AIDS. Her daughters supposedly do not have this disease, although they have their own battle to fight. Still if both parents have AIDS, it is probable that the children will. While some taboos have been erased, many remain. Her husband must have contracted the disease after the daughters were born, meaning he had an affair and considering that he is away for the better part of two months at a time with a group of needy men, affairs and flings with other women should not be ruled out. Men still hold the dominant position in many cultures. Although most men deserve praise and respect when it is due, refusing to address possible sources of AIDS is unacceptable. Taboos cannot cloud thoughts regarding medical issues and matters of life and death.

We learned that when our guide started visiting the women, cultural beliefs plagued the

women. Village people feared that any form of contact might spread AIDS. The women became outcasts. Treated like infections, the women felt as if they were no longer human. Medical Committee Netherlands Viet Nam works to educate and end misconceptions and the second home we stopped at showed us that their work is gaining traction.

The second home was much smaller than the first, one room on ground level with patchwork walls made of miscellaneous slabs of cement. The house belongs to a

woman who contracted AIDS from her husband. However, her husband passed away, leaving her with three children to raise. Her oldest, eighteen years old, left school to start working in the market in hopes of bolstering the family’s small income, earned from their plot of rice. Realizing the difficulty of her situation, her town came together and lent what they could so that she could build a home. Rather than turning a cheek to the family, despite their condition, the people stepped closer and offered a hand. Her two younger children attend school but with little money, just how long they attend is questionable.

When she mentioned her son leaving school to work in the market I wondered if the cycle of their poverty might ever be broken. Then she mentioned the help of her village and her younger children going to school and my thought suddenly seemed selfish and ignorant. This is only one generation of the family in one era of time, understanding and accessibility. Time and slight changes might help this family continue to build the strength it clearly possesses.

These two women both have plots of land. They both have roofs and walls. After our visit they had an extra blanket and mosquito net, compensating at least a little for the shaky walls. These gestures help fortify their resilience. Their perseverance is baffling. With straight faces and unblinking eyes both women told us that they go to monthly clinics for their medication and check up. The government has offered funding; something that pleasantly surprised me but then that surprise was snatched away. In 2015 the government funding ends. These women barely have money to feed their children, let alone the other medical concerns the first woman has with her

daughters. My stomach clenched. My mind froze. My life is so far removed from this that I could not wrap my head around it. I think I have a deadline with papers and finding summer jobs? I think I have stress with school, small financial bumps and personal

relationships?

These women have a real deadline. They have real stress. Finally I snapped back into focus and tried to figure out the date. November 5, 2014. These women have less the eight weeks until their funding stops. Two more check ups. After that AIDS can take over their bodies, robbing them of their ability to farm, help their children and remain as strong as possible.

A deadline. They said it with a straight face. They have known for a long time that this is coming but sometimes it is hard to notice time passing until a deadline is suddenly upon us and it is too late to stress. Stress does nothing but add anxiety and problems. They face this with resilience and a matter of fact stare. They are the strong ones. They fight everyday, naturally and without second thought.

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Hello, Ha Noi!

http://danfrederick.tumblr.com , October 22, 2014

Stepping off of the plane in Ha Noi was a bit daunting, maybe more so than when I first landed in Viet Nam. After living here for a month we all had expectations and things we had grown used to and come to love in Sai Gon. Now we were in a new city and had to find our way again, while having places to compare to Ha Noi.

It was probably better that our tiny bus was crammed with us and our bags, I knew that if I looked out the window at the highway a certain first impression might form. I wanted to wait until we arrived at our dorms and walked around until I started forming opinions.

The first glimpse of the guesthouse was bleak. It had a dreary exterior that contrasted the busy café and white buildings that formed the entryway to our home in Sai Gon. Allison and I climbed up to our fourth floor room where we now live with Peter, Miles, Andrew, Ben, Anna, and Erica. I missed living on one communal floor with everyone else. Being the furthest ones up I assumed we might see less of everyone else. At first glance the worn look to our room stood out. I also felt unwelcome when Allison, Anna, Erica, and I went to the café downstairs and overheard the waitress overcharge some of the guys, claiming there was a new menu—new meaning five minutes old. Maybe Ha Noi really was as cold as everyone in the south warned us.

Throughout lunch we started to share our doubts and what we missed about Sai Gon, but I stopped the conversation, “Let’s walk around the neighborhood before we decide anything.” That thought kept me from falling into the uneasiness that spread across the face of each one of us, as we nervously looked around our new surroundings.

It is incredible what a little exploring and time can do. Allison, Anna, Erica, and I headed off down the street. There were little things I was hoping to find, like a fruit vendor, café, tea, park with open space, banh mi stand, and spring rolls. If at least a few of those anchors were filled in in someway than I could build my home. A block away we found Smoothies & Juices, a trendy and quaint café that greeted us with friendly smiles, sweet tea and a Merry Christmas sign. Across the street stood a few more modern coffee shops. I began to relax into Ha Noi, I had an anchor to stay afloat with.

We let our eyes guide us and our feet move towards what captured our attention. We came to a park that we all ogled at. Trees! Space! Close to the dorms! Breath! This bend turned into narrow streets full of shops selling fabric goods from Sapa, banh mi stands, dress shops, and a Thai ice cream shop that was filming a commercial. Although things looked dreary in the driveway of our dorm, the rest of Ha Noi showed signs of life that jumped

between charm and energy. I made a mental note to return at sit at Cong Café by the cathedral where students sat on stools, bikes, railings, and newspapers—anything to grab a drink and chat. The French influence on socializing was very apparent.

We made it to Hoan Kiem Lake, the largest in Ha Noi. The lakes are one thing that makes Ha Noi special. Walking around the lake is a retreat from typical city life. So much life and culture develop along its banks with painters, couples, wedding photographers, and ladies selling donuts and chili pepper dipped fruit from woven bags. Follow the lake and you end up in another trait that individualizes Ha Noi: The Old Quarter.

On our first visit we stayed on the edge, observing but knowing we wanted to be apart of that scene. It was getting dark and since we had yet to really learn our way around, we returned to the dorm.

Rather than looking dingy and uninviting with its metal gate and dark paint, warmth emerged. The entrance to the dorm reminded me of alleyways in Italy with painted concrete buildings and a wear that expresses history rather than dirt. Barbers cleaned up their makeshift shops, tucking away their mirrors and scissors. People sat right outside of our gate, chatting in the dim light and sipping on green tea, following their usual routine that was possibly established generations ago.

Back in our room I noticed how high the ceilings were and the dainty details of French moldings. The noise of construction reverberating from the buildings just beyond our balcony turned into comforting sounds, keeping us from feeling lonely up on the fourth floor. Allison and I hung up pictures and tapestries we brought from home.

Once we dipped into the rhythm of the city, got acquainted and stretched out, Ha Noi was transformed and I was excited to settle down here for a bit.

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The Awesomeness of Algae : Eat Like a Fish! Surf Forever!

Published for The Inertia, August 12, 2014

http://www.theinertia.com/health/the-awesomeness-of-algae-eat-like-a-fish-surf-forever/

No other sport resembles surfing. The road is stable for runners, mountains are stable for hikers, turf and fields are stable for teams. They’re unmoving — consistent. Oceans, however, are fluid and unpredictable. Waves cannot be controlled or tamed. They will wake at ungodly hours and alter their schedule or sleeping habits to find a way to get in touch with this overpowering, natural force. It is admirable that surfers are so wholeheartedly dedicated to the element that gives them an arena to pursue their passion. But equally challenging is finding a healthy way to stay energized so they can keep up with Mother Nature.

I have witnessed various eating habits that people have chosen. In Costa Rica, I met a guy who grabbed a cup of coffee then paddled into the early morning tide. One time I talked to a guy at a board rental store — he preferred a light breakfast, maybe a piece of toast or fruit. Perhaps this stems from to the old saying: “Always wait twenty minutes after you eat before going in the water.” No one wants to feel weighted down or cramped when they desire to float and glide. Nevertheless, hours running into and flying out of waves requires a great deal of energy.

But what if there was something in the water that could sustain our energy? What if the ocean served not only the source for surfing but also the food that fueled surfers? Something that is instantly digested, promotes ample energy, has high protein, few calories and is organic.

Get to know Algae.

This algae is not the green flakes you feed goldfish. This is the algae that happens to be the most nutritionally-dense food in the world. I’m talking about organically grown algae, dried into tablets about the size of M&Ms. They contain no sugar, no chemicals, no caffeine, and no animal products or gluten. Boston-based company ENERGYbits leads the charge in acquainting athletes with algae, and they have quickly become the favorite fuel of marathon runners, triathletes and Olympic athletes. Now it’s time for the surf community to meet this food!

ENERGYbits calls their tablets “bits” because they are “bits of food.” A typical serving consists of thirty tablets, which can be swallowed with water. At just a calorie each, these plant-based bits are a light, low cal, fat free snack that can increase your time on the water.

Algae is ENERGYbits’s only ingredient. This compares dramatically with the average number of eighty to ninety ingredients found in a protein bar or shake. Earth’s first plant, it’s thanks to algae that the planet has oxygen. In fact, 80 to 90% of our oxygen comes from algae. Of the 15,000 types of algae, ENERGYbits Inc. grows chlorella and spirulina under organic conditions and without GMOs.

What are they?

Chorella: By taking a daily dose of chlorella you build your immune system, longevity, digestion, and RNA/DNA, while cleansing and detoxing your body and preventing hangovers! So have fun during the night and be out on the water with the sun.

Spirulina: This contains the highest quantity of digestible protein of any food. Its protein comes as amino acids so it takes little time for the protein to break down and emit nutrients through your body — highly effective and efficient. This form of algae helps with athleticism, cravings and muscle gain. Aside from that you will strengthen your nails, bones, skin, and hair, vital to hours spent in salty waters.

Algae has been used in Asia for over fifty years. It has been sold in the United States for the same length of time, but athletes and active consumers are only now learning about it. But in just a few short years, ENERGYbits has gained a following with runners, triathletes, NHL players, and Olympic athletes.

It seems only natural that we surfers would also want to take algae. After all, why not fuel our bodies with something that is all natural and grown in water so we can unite our body and mind with the element we love?

Water enables us to surf, clear our minds, and appreciate the world we come from.  Let’s maintain the energy we need for that and to embrace the gifts of life we get from algae.

Disclaimer: Danielle Frederick previously worked as an unpaid intern for ENERGYbits during the summer of 2014. She received no compensation for writing this article. The opinions are her own. Additionally, they do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the photographers.

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The Sublime Art of Surfing

Published for The Inertia, July 12, 2014

http://www.theinertia.com/surf/the-sublime-art-of-surfing/

In art, the sublime acts as a way to transcend the normal world and gain an alternative viewpoint. This term is applied to images that keep the viewer from being grounded. In many ways the sublime can be applied to surfing and its cousin, paddle boarding.

Both surfing and paddle boarding activate the entire body and all of its senses.  Thinking about paddle boarding, the image of a tranquil person gently gliding across calm water comes to mind. While paddle racing is a form of paddle boarding that allows the sport to be as active as surfing, recreational paddle boarding provides a great opportunity to look around and slowly take in the world from the water.I liken casual paddle boarding to yoga, where each muscle is subtly called upon, strengthened and elongated in unassuming yet powerful motions.

Given their differences in motion and intention, surfing and paddle boarding present contrasting but similar views of the surrounding environment.

As surfers paddle out they move into open space, sometimes obstructed by the rippling water that moves against them.  They move on ward into an expanse of water in the midst of an environment that most humans do not traverse on a normal basis.  Driven forward by personal strength and perseverance, paddling occurs at one’s own pace.  Throughout the process of surfing, surfers are detached from the earth.  The ground humans were built to walk on and born on to has been removed and replaced by a fluid substance that causes surfers to bobble in its unstable quality.  The shoreline rises and falls as surfers await a wave.  Standing on the ground fails to provide the same ever-changing scene that gives a chance to reconsider what was just viewed or to catch sight of a new surprise.  Once riding a wave, the shore rushes forward at an unprecedented speed that is largely dictated by a natural element.  Riding on a wave provides a chance to look at the beach atmosphere and approaching shoreline in a way unique from running across the sand.

Paddle boarding, possibly even more so, offers an astounding new way to gaze upon land bound life.  Unlike surfing, there is less change or required change in speed.  Although many professional paddle boarders will vouch for the cardiovascular intensity of paddle boarding, is can be taken at a leisurely pace.

During the summer I try to paddle board every afternoon after leaving work or babysitting.  It is my time to detach from the regular constraints of the physical world and commitments and expectations that govern the day.

Paddle boarding and surfing are breaks from reality.

No matter how many times I have paddled around Little Harbor in Cohasset, MA, a secluded body of seawater doted with lobster parts and large rocks, sectioned off from the rest of the Atlantic by a bridge and outlet, I always pause and take in the view.  I am continuously amazed by the world that surrounds me and the pleasant isolation I assume.  Floating on the water I look back at the land and no one knows I am there.

Standing atop the water is an out of body experience.  You rise above reality and standard conventions, being able to gaze at the world from the middle of the water, an entity that we–by all natural rules–are not supposed to use as a platform from which to view the world.  We are detached and floating.  While emerging in a more humble and gentle way than the thrill felt riding speedily along a wave, great sensation fills the body and mind.

As this new perspective uncovers a multitude of new angles and sights, how can our senses not be somewhat overwhelmed?  However, as long as you choose to be out on water, you are constantly looking, seeing and perceiving.  Thus, our emotions are seeping out at a consistent rate, mediated by each glimpse we receive.

Since standing and floating on the water removes us from the ground, like glancing into a sublime image, surfing and paddle boarding are sublime experiences.  They are overwhelming, thrilling and mysterious in the best and most fulfilling ways.  From the time we are born, earth puts restrictions on us.  These restrictions are not necessarily bad, just unavoidable scientific facts.  Still, surfing and paddle boarding provide opportunities break away and reevaluation and appreciate life on earth.

Out on the water we are freed from the general limits of terrestrial vantage points whish is an enchanting and mysterious gift.  A sublime experience.

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Meditating : Surf as a Way of Zen

Published on for The Inertia, April 30, 2014

http://www.theinertia.com/surf/meditating-surf-as-a-way-of-zen/

I am going to be honest (and remain honest) from the beginning… I am not the best, most dedicated surfer. There are people who far exceed my drive and commitment to getting out on the water. That being said, my limited experience does not detract from my level of interest in and respect for surfing; there are things in life that attract us, constantly holding a magnetic pull on our interests and us — surfing has that hold on me.

I look at surfing as more than a sport. I see it as a philosophy and lifestyle. This particular opinion has developed from many sources, including movies, books, interviews, documentaries, and personal emotion. While I have learned that many surfers still have an intense drive and fire to be the strongest and surf the largest waves, there are many who surf for enjoyment and relaxation, to uncover inner peace and understanding. I have found myself doing the latter.

Last spring, I wrote a research paper on Zen meditation. What I learned was that meditation comes from repeated activity that requires minimal thought or discomfort; the body falls into a pattern of enacting what feels natural. Surfing very much falls in line with aspects of meditation. You paddle out on the water, away from the tether of land, filled with noise, technology, responsibilities, and other distractions. The act is simple enough: one cupped hand dips into the ocean and pulls back, when it surfaces the next hand mimics the action, and this movement is repeated until you find yourself where you want to be.

From the silky feel of the water to the bumpiness of a waxed board, much of surfing is tactile, enhancing and engaging every sense. Hearing the sound of waves crashing, receding, and arriving is unavoidable. The water catches in your mouth and you taste the natural saltiness of the element. Everything is illuminated. Stretching all around is an expanse of blue where sky and sun meet sea, or you catch a glimpse of life on land from a new perspective. Being out in the roll of the ocean awakens the body.

While there are moments of fear, intimidation, boredom, and doubt — depending on the condition of the waves and one’s relationship with it on a given day — there is always a moment of liberation and pride. To catch a wave is an overwhelming feeling of connectedness. Suddenly, you are standing on top of an uncontrollable and unpredictable natural element.

Too often, people disrespect and disregard nature. However, riding a wave means working with water, not overcoming its power and capabilities but being at peace with its fluidity. A surfer is paired down to his body and a board, left to deal with the mind of the sea, thus allowing for unfettered interaction between man and nature. The moment you stand on the board and float across the water, feeling the jostles of a force flowing under you, an intense sense of harmony arises. And that encompasses the beauty and philosophy surfing possesses.