Painting Venice in China

With Halloween preparations, an especially persistent head cold, and another large editorial project to occupy my time, I haven't had the chance to write much lately. Paychecks, however, occasionally take precedence over more creative pursuits. At least subway rides to and from Manhattan give me the chance to do a little reading for pleasure.

Earlier this week I finished a fascinating article by one of my favorite travel writers: Peter Hessler. Since reading River Town, his sensitive account of life in the small Chinese city of Fuling, I have avidly followed his reporting for National Geographic and The New Yorker. His most recent dispatch, entitled "Chinese Barbizon," appeared in the October 26th issue of the magazine and addressed globalization from the point of view of several resourceful, opportunistic laborers in Zhejiang Province. One ambitious young woman and her boyfriend earn about $1,000 a month as commissioned painters—not a bad wage in a rural area where artists live rent free for the first year.

The piece is full of pithy observations and sharp insight, but unfortunately, the online version is only available to subscribers. A brief audio slide show related to the story and narrated by Hessler delves into the business of selling cheap oil paintings to foreign buyers.

Shine On

I knew I wouldn't want for good food on my first trip to the Lone Star State. For starters, it simply isn't the kind of place that does small helpings of anything. I was not, however, expecting to find so many suitable beers to wash down my meals with. Dozens is a low estimate.

Of the numerous local styles to choose from, I soon learned that the one oat soda you simply can't miss is Shiner Bock, brewed and bottled in the "Cleanest Little City in Texas." It was for sale nearly everywhere, and somehow, complemented most of what I ate during my brief visit. Especially the barbecue. In fact, my advice for anyone within a tank of gas from Hill Country is to head immediately to Lockhart, order some brisket at either Smitty's or Kreuz Market, and reach for the ram.

Now that I'm back at my editing desk in Brooklyn, I could really use a smooth, medium-bodied, ice-cold Shiner. It would certainly make this eighteenth-century philosophy go down easier. Unfortunately, Spoetzl doesn't currently distribute their dark lager to thirsty Northeasterners.

Reading While Traveling

When compared to other units of measure, a week doesn't seem very big—except when most of it has been devoted to a single pursuit. I recently agreed to help a friend polish a manuscript that he intends to shop around to agents this summer, so in my case, the past week involved lots of editing. The title of this yet-to-be-published novel refers to a place in Australia, but many of the events in the opening chapters actually occur in a Norwegian city I've grown quite fond of.

On my last visit to Oslo, I paid a visit to Norway's largest bookstore dedicated to maps and travel. Located behind the Royal Palace on Uranienborgveien, Nomaden is a ideal shop to peruse if you happen to find yourself in Oslo and can't decide where to go next. Its shelves and staff do not lack for sources of inspiration. You might also consider stopping by if you've chosen to walk from one of the attractions downtown to Frogner Park in the west; Nomaden is on the way.