Finding Dad in Arizona (Audio)

ITP #31: Even when they're gone, our parents are with us. They live on through our children and the talents they possess. In this episode of Inside the Pomegranate, Anush shares about her weekend in Arizona: the Tuscon Bead, Gem & Mineral show, taking in the sites of Tempe and beyond.
Link: Release the Fear - sculpture
Produced by Suzie Shatarevyan for epostle.net
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Finding Dad in Arizona

Panorama of the Tempe Center for the Performing Arts and the beautiful bridge and lake walk

The flaming saganaki!

We just got home from a whirlwind trip to Arizona!  We left on Friday and drove through to Tempe, which is about 6 hours away, and where my nephew and godson Varoujan lives while working on his masters at ASU.  We traveled to Arizona for the annual Tucson Bead, Gem, and Mineral Show. This is a major event that takes place every year in February.  And I've wanted to attend this show for many years but inevitably something would always come up, and we wouldn't be able to go.  But this year, I guess the stars lined up and both Neddy and I were able to get off work.  The show is such a big event that finding a hotel room without signing off on your first born is unheard of.  Tucson is about and hour or so's drive from Tempe, so we decided to get a room there. Plus, it was nice to be near my nephew and get some time in together.  So Friday night we were able to walk around the village near ASU and go out to a Greek place for dinner.

The beautiful Phoenix Library...entire back wall is a
panoramic view of the city

We got to experience something called a "flaming saganaki"....some flaming cheese that Var and Neddy ordered.  We got to see the studio where Varouj works on his architectural projects  And we got to hear about some of the cool things that he and his team are working on in the Utah desert.  And then the added bonus of the weekend was that Var was able to join us on Saturday and come to the show with us.

So Saturday morning, before we headed out to Tucson, Varouj took us to the Phoenix library which was just this amazing building...beautiful, modern but still organic in shape.  I can't do it any justice in describing it, but here are the photos.  It was really an architectural masterpiece that was so inviting that it just made you want to use the space.  There was a special section for teens only, and when we walked through I noticed that kids could check out musical instruments if they wanted to play.  Isn't that a cool idea?  The space was amazing. I noticed this about Arizona architecture:  they utilize the natural light and the position of the sun to either light, or cast shadows on the structures.  So well thought out.

Release the Fear - sculpture made of
weapons of violence

On the way out to Tucson, we passed this sculpture on a median.  It looks like the shape of a modernistic person with their hands up in the air. Kind of in a pose of rejoicing.  Varouj told us that the entire sculpture, from the base to the figure, was created with weapons used in violent acts collected throughout Arizona.  It's an 8 ton statue, and the base has the actual weapons fused to it, and it looks like the statue is rising up from the base.  It's called "Release the Fear".  The artist is Robert John Miley, and artist who promotes the power of education and art to combat violence.  I thought it was so powerful and beautifully done. Click on the link and you can read more about it.  But here's a photo.

Beautiful Beads from Afghanistan

Checking out the handmade beads 

After that we headed on the I-10 toward Tucson.  I had no idea what to expect.  Only that it was supposed to be the end-all/ be-all bead show.  And it was. And then some.  The show is spread out all over Tucson. They even had shuttles that will take you from location to location.  We started off at the bead show which was in a large hotel.  Not only were the meeting rooms, ball rooms and outside areas filled with vendors, but so were all the hotel rooms on the first floor.  Imagine walking down a hotel corridor, and each room is a different vendor with beads, jewelry making supplies, finished pieces, or findings. I was able to get some new tools for working with the metal clays that I use for my pomegranates.  I learned some new techniques. Saw some amazing handmade beads, and stocked up on supplies from vendors that I usually only do business with online.  I know I had no idea that it would ever be this big of an event.

My weakness - beautiful
ethic beads from Africa

is it a plant? Is it a horn?
It's a fossil!

All this and it was only the first location. When you check in at the bead show, they give you a big event magazine and in there are not only all the vendors, but a map of all the locations in the city where there are more vendors/more venues.  I was looking up the location of the next bead show location, but I had already spent a lot.  I know myself well enough to know that if I went to the bead show, I'd definitely be buying stuff buying MORE stuff than I already did! There were a lot of locations for minerals and gems.  I thought the guys would like to go to the gem and mineral show.  And boy was I wrong.  It wasn't just the guys that enjoyed that part.

Beautiful amethyst crystals

I was totally blown away by it. There were ten foot high quartz crystals, 4-5 foot tall geodes filled with beautiful amethysts, and fossils that were millions of years old.  I was really amazed by a fossilized flower - something so delicate - preserved for millions of years. You could see the seeds, stems and petals and they were all preserved in stone.  All this was taking place under huge tents in vacant parking lots (that were hardly vacant).  I'm talking about huge tents...like the kind you see in revival meetings.  Like a big top.  There were all kinds of gemstones, rocks...polished and unpolished, turquoise from various mines, mounds of magnetic hematite...and meteorites.  There was a meteorite on display that was the size of a canteloupe. Neddy told me to pick it up.  I took my one hand and tried lifting, no way.  It was over 30 points.  Just solid metal.  My husband Ned, being an alien himself, was so excited to find such a great display of meteories.   It was all really interesting.  and so were the people that were there.  We saw a few that looked like they had come straight from Burning Man (maybe they had!)  And again, this was just at

The back wall of the Phoenix library

this second location.   Imagine 20-30 locations all around the city, and the show is going on for two weeks. There's no way that you could cover it all in one day, let alone during a 2-3 day weekend.  Anyway...it was such a cool thing to do, and we'd definitely like to go back and try it again...but stay longer and see more. As cool as it was, it still wasn't the BEST  part of the weekend.

The best part of the weekend was spending time with my nephew.  It was a rare time spent since when he's back in L.A., we see one another at church and family functions, but not like this past weekend where we got a chance to talk, watch the Olympics, eat, "oo and aah" over beads, walk and enjoy the day together. And I got a chance to appreciate what an amazing guy he really is.

My ever so talented nephew and godson, Varouj and me

It was a full weekend.  And Ned and I really had a great visit, and we were talking about it on the drive home.  The three of us had spent a beautiful morning walking by the river in Tempe, sunny but cold and windy.  Just the type of day that my father would have loved.  Today is the 23rd anniversary of my father's passing.  It's really hard to believe that so much time has gone by.  My father was only 58 when he died.  My daughter Ani was 3, my son Nareg was 9.  My nephew's Varoujan and Sevan, 4 and 2, I think.   My nephew Varoujan is my father's namesake.  This weekend, I got to see first hand that my father still lives on through my nephew.  It's not that he looks anything at all like my father.  But Var is incredibly talented, as was my dad.  My nephew shares my father's musical ability.  Babajan was a self-taught violin player.  He worked his way through pharmacy school playing gypsy violin in a restaurant.  But he didn't stop at the violin.  He could pretty much play whatever instrument came his way.  Mandolin, oud, doudouk, kemancheh.  Our home was always filled with music.  My nephew shares this musical ability.  Piano, self taught on clarinet so well that he played in the USC marching band, guitar, doudouk, oud, and he accompanies our church choir for the badarak. I wish I could do that.

But that's not the only similarity.  It's the creativity.  I saw it in Varoujan this weekend.  He is working on his

This is the fossilized flower I was telling you about.

Masters in Architecture.  As he was showing us the bridge at the Tempe Center for the Performing Arts, the river that runs next to it, the artistry of the design, I could feel my dad there with us...and he was beaming with pride.  My father was very much in tune to his surroundings, just like my nephew.  I remember walks with my father where he would notice the quality of light, the colors of the environment around us.  And there we were this morning on a walk, and taking in the surroundings, and Varoujan commented the way the water poured off the fountain, the colors, the deliberateness of the design.  Very Babajan-esque.

As a pharmacist, his job didn't allow him the creativity that he needed.  So after work he would find his creative release through music usually, or other projects.  I remember going to the bead store with him when I was a kid.  If my mom needed the perfect necklace to complement her outfit, he would make it for her. When my mother bought my dad a book on oriental rugs, he created a mini loom and learned the knotting techniques and wove mini versions of kilims in our kitchen.  Varoujan is very much like that.  He's a skilled woodworker, a builder, and has vision to see in his mind the way the completed outcome will turn out.  Like the zeroscape he and my sister in law created in their front yard replacing the lawn with native, drought tolerant plants (and making look great!)  Which is not always easy.

Walking the bridge in Tempe with Var and Neddy

My father's pride and joy were his grandchildren.  He saw only 4 of the 8 grandchildren that he and Mamajan share.  And because he died so young, he didn't get to see how beautifully they have grown up.  I always feel so sad that my children didn't get to know Babajan for the wonderful  grandfather he was.  And sad that they were deprived of the fun, the laughter, the music, the creativity that he brought to our family.  I can feel my dad at different times throughout the year, namely when we have important family events.  And then when weekends like this happen, I realize that he is still very much with us. And he lives on through his children and grandchildren.   I can feel his presence and I can also feel his pride of his grandchildren, and I know his spirit walks with them all.

On this 23rd anniversary of Babajan's passing, I'd like to share something he taught me.

The 10 foot quartz crystal

In my old home, I had it painted on the wall of my kitchen, and I think I'll paint it in my entry way.  He said, "Always buy lemonade from children; feed the homeless, and tip street musicians."  That's the kid of guy my dad was: sensitive to children and the dreams that they have; compassionate to those that are not fortunate enough to have the home and family that he had; and in tune to the artists of the world that make our lives more beautiful.

I miss you dad!  And I'm proud of you Varouj!  Thank you for sharing yourself with us this weekend - both of you!!

Remembering Dad (Audio)

Inside the Pomegranate - Podcast episode #1
This is an audio version of Remembering Dad.  Look for "Inside the Pomegranate" podcast coming to Blubrry and iTunes very soon!

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Remembering Dad

My dad and my daughter Ani - Christmas 1987
His grandchildren were his pride and joy!

This past Sunday was Father's Day here in the States.  My father passed away over 20 years ago. When you have your own children you still feel the loss of your father on this day but because you are busy creating Father's day for your own family, those memories end up getting set aside.  My children are grown now and are now including us in their own celebrations.  As I saw all the posts on Facebook of friends with their fathers, it made me really miss my own father.  And it gave me time to reflect on some of my memories of him and how much he influenced who I am today.
So I put together some things that I learned over the years....from being my father's daughter:

1.  You never stop learning:  My dad taught us that the sky's the limit when it came to learning.  He was a true believer in the school of life, and he taught us - his four children - that the day we stop learning is the day you die.  He had a natural curiosity.  He loved to read.  He knew a lot about all sorts of things.  We could ask him any question and he'd know the answer...OR, if he didn't, he'd help us find the answer.  We'd take trips as a family to the library every two weeks, each of us with our own library card.  We'd check out the maximum 10 books and bring them home.  We learned all about everything...and we learned the importance of reading.  He was always trying new projects.  One year my mom bought him a book about oriental rugs and how they were loomed.  The next thing I knew he had me in the car and we were driving across town for the right wool for his project - weaving mini sample rugs on a frame loom he built. He learned all about natural dying of the wool, knotting techniques, even about carding wool and making your own yarn.  Like I said, he was naturally curious.

When I was about 18,  I saw an article in a magazine about stained glass windows.  I thought, how cool would that be...to be able to cut glass and make something lasting with transparent color.  Right off he encouraged me to try to learn the craft.  The very next day we went and bought tools.  He encouraged me to sign up for a class.  He was always pro-education.  Whatever you learned was to your advantage.  There was no "useless information."  Eventually, I loved working in stained glass so much that I started my own business for while designing and making windows.  All because of that magazine and my father.

2.  Play a musical instrument!  My father  was incredibly musical, and he made sure to pass this love of music on to his children.  We all had to pick an instrument that we wanted to play. He sent us off to music lessons when we were young.  It wasn't a luxury.  It was a necessity.  Music was very important.  It was not only an escape but a discipline.  He himself  was a fantastic violinist, self taught. He was a pharmacist by trade and while in pharmacy school, he helped pay for his college by working as a gypsy violinist at a restaurant.  He'd wear a scarf, a clip on hoop earring, and his shalvar pants from his armenian dance costume.  And he'd set out to play dinner music on his violin.   My mom told me he was quite the romantic. But his musical talent  didn't stop at the violin. He played the mandolin, the oud, and the duduk as well.

He was my duet partner. We were always working on perfecting Bach's double violin concerto in Db minor- dad on violin and me on the flute. Measure by measure we'd go through the runs and the timing.  I'd get so frustrated because there was definitely a difference between blowing and bowing!  And though his fingers could fly over the strings of his violin, I had a whole different sequence of breatheing and blowing to deal with on the flute.   We played casuals for events around town - parties, anniversaries.  We even worked one summer together at Ports o'Call in San Pedro, a little touristy fisherman's village.  The management hired us as strolling musicians to add a little local color.  Great memories.

3.  Be kind to the homeless; tip street musicians; and buy lemonade from lemonade stands!:  I had painted this on the wall of my kitchen in my old home because I think this really gave me a sense of who my father was.  He was a softy.  Kind and compassionate.  He is the reason that I am involved in our homeless ministry.  Because as a child we were told to be kind to the homeless.  To care for them...provide for them.  On holidays we would deliver food to our community's homeless...on bus benches and behind stores.  My father taught me that the homeless are "just people, like you and me," and that we should be kind to them because other's aren't. My mom reminded me of the time we had all gone to the Canter's, a local deli for dinner.  We had just ordered our dinner when a homeless man walked in and asked if he could please buy a cup of coffee.  The management refused to serve him.  My father was insensed!  He ordered us all to get up.  He refused to eat there if they wouldn't serve the man...and we never stepped foot in there after that.  At the time, I remember how embarassed I felt because we had made a scene.  Now, I feel so proud that we took a stand and more so of the valuable lesson he action held.

On tipping street musicians:  Because  my father had been a struggling  musician, we would help them as well.  Good or bad...if they were playing on the street, he would always slip us money to put in their open case.  He said they bring music to the world and they're playing on the street because they want to share that joy.  We should appreciate them for what they do!

And lemonade?  Who doesn't love lemonade...and who doesn't love children? We would pull over for lemonade stands to encourage the children that were selling.  Not only would my dad buy the lemonade, but he would slurp it down, making the kids giggle, and he'd smile and thank the kids,  and tell them it was really the best lemonade he had ever had in his life.  He was all about making people feel good.

4.  The kitchen is the soul of the house:  I've told you about dad's violin playing.  He would lose himself in his music.  And his favorite room to do this in?  The kitchen.  In fact he would do almost everything in the kitchen including read, weave, and of course, play violin.  This would drive mom crazy, because he would plant himself right in the center and play one of his concerti.  She be trying to cook dinner, or deal with one of us and there he'd play.  He loved the kitchen and explained it this way.  The kitchen is the soul of the house.  It's where we gather to eat, to pray around the table.  It's a family place.  What better place could there be to spend your time at home?  We were lucky.  We lived in a large California craftsman home that had a square kitchen layout.  Eventually, my parents moved and the new house had a much smaller kitchen, the shape of which was long and narrow. One of my favorite photos is one of my dad holding my daughter Ani on his lap.  She was probably all of 2 or 3 and by then .  So in the picture, there's dad sitting on a chair smack in the middle of the narrow kitchen - not at the table or at the counter.  Nope, right in the middle, with his granddaughter on his lap...reading her her favorite story.

And finally, 5.  Don't be satisfied with a "C"   This was an important one.  We could never be happy with getting C's on our report cards.  A "C" meant you were "Satisfactory".  And while that was okay for some, it was not good enough for my dad.  Getting a C meant that you weren't applying yourself.  That you were just "okay".  As a kid I only applied this to my grades, but as I grew older I realized there was a greater message he was getting across.  Don't be okay with just being okay.  Be the best you can be...do the best you can do.  Try to do better. Always ask yourself, "Is that the best I can do."  The idea was not to be afraid to be "uncomfortable" in your quest to do better.  Push yourself.  Apply yourself.

There are so many other things I can tell you about my dad.  He was really an incredible person and a loving father.  When he passed away at age 58, the loss was huge...but I felt an even deeper loss for my children who would grow up not knowing his love, his wit and not being able to experience is beautiful smile and his strong hugs.  He taught me so much about life, about myself, and the older I get, the more I find that I have some of his same quirks.  Like leaving my shoes laying around the house, playing my flute in the kitchen, whistling through my teeth.  I can't pass a street musician without leaving a tip.  I can't pass a homeless person without saying hello, and I always stop to buy lemonade.

His simple lessons are instilled in all of us kids, and in my mom as well.  I'll close with a cute little story, because today would have been my parents 58th anniversary.  Several years ago, on my parents anniversary, my mom stopped at the cemetary to put flowers on dad's grave.  As she pulled up, she noticed the sprinklers were on.  She sat in the car and after waiting a long time decided that maybe she would just say her prayer in the car, leave the flowers at the curb, and come back another time.  As she was saying her prayer, she heard my father's voice.  "Is that the best you can do, Anne?"  She had to smile.  And she knew what she had to do.  She got out of the car, with the flowers, walked across the grass getting soaked by the sprinklers to go pay dad a visit.  And as she stood there all wet, she just knew inside, that my dad was looking down, smiling!

So Happy Father's day to all of you Dad's out there...and all of you single mom's that fill dad's shoes too!