Inside this church, which is actually a trailer, stands a man, tall and stout with a handlebar mustache and a fuzzy goatee. He dons replica Medieval Viking gear. He tells you he is Hrothgar, son of Thorson. This is not his real name. It’s a moniker he cribbed from a Danish king in Beowulf.

His real name is Chris Pagnac, and he’s a 38-year-old die-hard fan from Brainerd. He came here to sell carefully crafted replica Viking gear, things like engraved drinking horns and leather hats with horns. He is surrounded by his people, clad in purple and gold, all rooting for a common — and, given the weight of history, unlikely — goal: Super Bowl LII, to be played right here the first Sunday in February.

But intermingling with Pagnac’s people is the enemy. The cheeseheads who surround him wear green and gold. They drink Leinenkugel’s Summer Shandy and New Glarus Spotted Cow instead of Grain Belt Premium and Summit Extra Pale Ale. They punctuate their speech with “dis,” “dere” and “ya know” rather than  “don’tcha know” and “uff da.”

These two tribes are close, both geographically and culturally. To an outsider like me, an East Coast transplant, they seem the same, with similarly strange languages, similar German and Scandinavian heritage, and similar historical economies based on farming, manufacturing and extracting natural resources from the earth. But it is in their sporting mindsets where these two tribes diverge.

Illustration by Olly Howe

Packers fans are used to having all the good things: the Super Bowls, the iconic coaches and the league’s best quarterbacks. In 1992, the team traded for an unheralded second-year quarterback named Brett Favre. He would go on to a Hall of Fame career. As that career neared its twilight, the Packers drafted Aaron Rodgers. He too has gone on to a certain Hall of Fame career, and he’s arguably the best quarterback in the NFL today. A Packers fan born 25 years ago has only known a team led by a Hall of Famer. It is a remarkable, highly improbable experience.

Vikings fans, on the other hand, sometimes have good things, but those good things don’t last. All good things in the land of the Vikings eventually prove ephemeral, often taken away in the most painful way possible. In the past quarter century, when the Packers have had their two Hall of Famer quarterbacks, the Vikings have started 24 quarterbacks. Being a Vikings fan is an emotionally draining, emotionally unstable experience.

“Each year we have moments of brilliance, but we always find a way to shoot ourselves in the foot,” Pagnac says. “Vikings fans are the perfect Scandinavian football fans. On A Prairie Home Companion, Garrison Keillor used to joke that as a Scandinavian, you never want things too good, because it’s a sign things will soon go bad. So you’re just happy with good enough. You hope for the best and pray you don’t get the worst, and you’re pleased if you get something in between.”

Sports fandom is like faith: You believe because you always have. And the teams you follow can in many ways shape the person you become. A dynastic team — the New England Patriots, the New York Yankees, the Boston Celtics — can breed in its fans arrogance and elation. A pathetic team, on the other hand — the Cleveland Browns, the New York Jets, the cursed Chicago Cubs — can cause jealousy and sorrow.

Consider the Vikings fan. The Vikings fan has never seen a Super Bowl victory in the franchise’s 66 years of existence. The golden years were back in the 1970s, the age of the Purple People Eaters and Bud Grant and Fran Tarkenton. But even that era was painful: The Vikings played in four Super Bowls but lost them all. The team’s history is riddled with almosts, not quites and couldn’t pull it offs.

Gary Anderson misses the field goal in the NFC Championship Game, but only after an entire season of not missing a single field goal or extra point. Brett Favre, in his short post-Packers career with the Vikings, throws the interception. Adrian Peterson fumbles the ball — Adrian Peterson always fumbles the ball. Blair Walsh chunks the easy field goal off the frozen tundra. Teddy Bridgewater tears up his knee.

I remember during the 2016 season, as the Vikings were headed to their fifth victory in a row, turning to a friend — a die-hard, lifelong Vikings fan — and telling him that his team looked really good, as in Super Bowl good. He shook his head. “You just wait,” he told me. “They’re going to lose seven of their next nine games.” They went on to lose eight of their next 10.

Now consider the Packers fan, a fan of one of the NFL’s oldest teams and America’s only nonprofit, community-owned major sports franchise. No football team has won more championships. The Packers claimed nine NFL titles before there was such a thing as the Super Bowl, and since its inception, they’ve won four. For God’s sake, they call their hometown “Titletown.”

The history of the Packers is a history of things going right: They hire the right coach (Vince Lombardi) or the right general manager (Ron Wolf), they acquire the best quarterbacks (Bart Starr, Brett Favre, Aaron Rodgers) then they draft the right pieces to put around them.

In 2014, when the Packers started 1–2 and Rodgers looked awful, he delivered the most succinct article of faith ever given to superfans: “Five letters here just for everybody out there in Packer land,” he said on his Milwaukee radio show. “R-E-L-A-X. Relax. We’re going to be OK.” And sure enough, things ended up OK: The Packers won a league-best 12 games, and Rodgers was named MVP.

And then, last season, the Packers had lost four straight and were sitting at 4–6 with a strong likelihood of missing the playoffs. At that point, Rodgers said this: “I feel like we can run the table.” Which sounded ridiculous at the time. But then the Packers did just that: They won their final six regular season games, coming within a game of the Super Bowl.

These fan bases couldn’t be more different. One is defined by pessimism and fatalism, the other by optimism and certainty. And these doctrines become ingrained in your life philosophy, far outstripping your feelings about a football team. Both these sporting faiths bring men to tears (of joy and of sorrow), but they also bring their fans something more: a sort of spiritual togetherness among their tribe.

“God is with us.”

Frank Lamping is laughing as he says this. He is in the middle of making the 150-mile drive from his home in Union Grove, Wisconsin, to Green Bay. But there still seems to be an element of truth to what he’s saying.

The 61-year-old has made this drive more than 200 times in his lifetime. He’s always the first one into Lambeau Field on game day. And he gets goose bumps every time he walks in. Sporting the same Packers hard hat he’s worn to games for the past 15 years and the same Ty Detmer game-worn cleats he’s worn to games for the past 20 years, Lamping strolls down to his front-row seats. He gets out the Packers Titletown towel he got in 1996, the year of the team’s third Super Bowl win. And he tapes an Aaron Rodgers Starting Lineup figure to the padding just above the end zone.

“On game days, I tell my friends I’m going to church up in Green Bay,” Lamping says. “A lot of people tailgate, but I want to be the first one in there. I want to get that feeling as much as I can.”

On this particular fall evening, Lamping is on his way to a lecture about the history of Lambeau’s turf. He already knows a bit about this subject; his yard is planted with three types of grass that were once planted in the stadium. In 1997, the Packers beat the Carolina Panthers in a sloppy, muddy NFC Championship Game that tore up the turf. The team decided to pull it up, give it away and plant new sod. On two other occasions when the Packers decided to rip up their turf, Lamping made the drive to Lambeau to pick it up then planted it in his lawn. When he is hosting guests, he sometimes puts out two miniature goalposts and paints the iconic Green Bay “G” into his grass to give the sensation of standing in a miniature Lambeau.

Lamping has been a superfan all his life. He grew up on a farm, and his dad had another job, so all the farm work was left to the weekend. But every autumn Sunday at noon, work would halt for three hours and they’d watch Bart Starr and the Packers. One of his earliest sporting memories is watching the so-called Ice Bowl — one of the coldest and one of the greatest games in NFL history — on December 31, 1967. He remembers it like it was yesterday. Lamping didn’t know it at the time, but this was his introduction to the eternal optimism of Packers fandom.

“On the 10 previous drives, the Packers had 31 plays; they literally punted every time but one,” he recalls. “They couldn’t do anything on the ice. But they got the ball with four minutes and 50 seconds left, and you just knew they were going to score. Sixty-some yards to go on a frozen field. They had no right to win, but they looked into each others’ eyes in the huddle and knew they could do it. And that is why we’re optimistic people.”

Some would argue that sports fandom is a distraction from life, not something that can shape or nurture it. But Lamping’s story refutes that.

A few years ago, he was diagnosed with stage IV prostate cancer, meaning it had gotten into his bones. A friend did something nice for him: entered him in a contest to be inducted into the Packers Fan Hall of Fame. Some 350 people were nominated, and 10 finalists were selected. People in Union Grove sold “Go Frank Go” t-shirts, donating the thousands of dollars of proceeds to the American Cancer Society. Hundreds of Lamping’s friends gathered for a pep rally in his honor. Two and a half years of chemotherapy had beaten him up pretty badly, and his optimism waned.

But then he won the contest. It reinvigorated his spirit. He was inducted into the Hall of Fame last year, with a busload of family and friends accompanying him to the ceremony.

With a population of 105,139, Green Bay is by far the smallest American city to have a major professional sports team, let alone a winning one. That dynamic has given the team and its fans a tight-knit, small-town quality — and a Mayberry-like optimism that Lamping has experienced firsthand during his darkest days.

“The Packers are always going to be a positive force in my life,” he says. “Maybe it’s because Lombardi was such a religious man, but when I walk into that stadium, I get this feeling of calmness. It helps me forget about the cancer, the stuff going on inside me. It’s like a cathedral.”

Outside U.S. Bank Stadium, it’s nearing kickoff for the first Vikings–Packers meeting of the 2017 season. Across the parking lot from Chris Pagnac and his replica Viking gear, Brian McKeen of Canby wears a Harrison Smith jersey and leans against the back of an ambulance. “Skol Force One,” to be precise — an old ambulance he bought for $9,500 and outfitted into a Vikings tailgate-mobile. Speakers blare Prince’s “Purple Rain.” The ambulance lights flash purple and gold. A television plays the Vikings pregame show. Inside, there’s a framed poster autographed by the entire 2016 Vikings team.

McKeen takes a swig of beer and waxes poetic. “You hope for the best, but you expect the worst,” he says. “One of my first sporting memories was the NFC Championship Game after the 1987 season. The Vikings were tied late in the fourth quarter, but then the Redskins marched 70 yards for a touchdown. The Vikings made it all the way to the six-yard line before they were shut down. Game over. I learned what heartbreak was at a young age.”

I am not a member of this fatalistic tribe, but I became a sort of Vikings-fan-in-law when I married a Minnesota girl and moved here, as usually follows. I do not understand the willful misery that Vikings fans put themselves through year after year. Why follow a team that brings you such sorrow?

I ask McKeen this. He sighs.

“People wonder why you do it,” he says. “Because every year ends the same. And every year, they find a different way to do it: injuries, missed field goals, interceptions at the worst times. Last year when they started 5–0, people were saying this looked like a Super Bowl team. But I knew better than that.”

And yet, it’s a tradition that gets passed down from generation to generation. Andy Minnich of Maple Grove was inducted into Vikings fandom by his father and grandfather. Now he has three young children of his own. They wear tiny Vikings jerseys. They read Vikings board books. When they get juice in a sippy cup in the morning, they refuse to drink it if Minnich accidentally puts the yellow lid on the green cup. No Packers colors, ever.

Minnich remembers watching the 1998 NFC Championship Game while in college at St. John’s University. When Gary Anderson missed the field goal, the entire dorm went quiet. It was as though someone had died.

He remembers watching the 2009 NFC Championship Game in his father’s basement. Minnich really felt like, this time, it was going to happen — the Vikings were going to the Super Bowl. Then Favre, the man who’d brought such greatness to Green Bay, crushed the Vikings fan base. He threw the interception. Not another word was spoken. Minnich silently gathered his belongings and left.

“I guess I’m a glutton for punishment,” he says. “And now I’ve got a little legacy with three mini Vikings fans I’ve got to groom. There’s no turning back now.”

Back outside the stadium, Jess Mueller and Mara Wellner, two die-hard Packers fans from Milwaukee, are finishing their mimosas. I ask them what it means to be Packers fans.

“I just feel so privileged every day to wake up and say, ‘Thank you, God, for Aaron Rodgers,’” Mueller explains.

“We’re just so blessed,” Wellner adds.

“Some people say this is America’s team,” Mueller muses. “No; this is God’s team.” She teases another friend, Linda Niemela, a Vikings fan who also lives in Milwaukee: “We want to save you! Make you a born-again Packers fan!”

The thing about a sporting faith is that any given Sunday that faith can be challenged. Mueller and Wellner walked into U.S. Bank Stadium for the noon kickoff. They sat down in their seats. Eight minutes into the first quarter, Rodgers rolled out of the pocket and fired a perfect pass for a first down. But the moment the ball left his fingertips, Vikings’ linebacker Anthony Barr hit him, smashing Rodgers’ shoulder into the turf.

It was a broken clavicle. The backup took over, and Rodgers got 13 screws in his shoulder. He was expected to miss most if not all of the season. The Vikings won that game, and suddenly, the sporting universe was turned upside down. The charmed team was pushed into the darkness, and the cursed team seemed to be experiencing a moment of light.

Perhaps this is the point of it all: The best sports fans are the ones who stick with their teams through thick and thin. We talk about the Packers’ good fortune, but we forget about the dark hole in the franchise’s history that was the 1970s and 1980s. We say the Vikings are forever doomed, but then we remember the other teams that once seemed forever doomed: the Boston Red Sox, the Chicago Cubs, the Kansas City Royals, the Cleveland Cavaliers.

Being a sports fan — a crazy sports fan, the kind who buys a tailgating ambulance or performs the same home-game rituals for two decades — requires blind faith. Come February, Super Bowl LII will feature two teams battling to give their fans the most exhilarating experience in American sports: claiming victory on Super Bowl Sunday. Maybe it’ll be the Patriots and the Packers, or the Steelers and the Saints, franchises that have been here before. Or maybe, finally, it will be the time for a star-crossed franchise like the Vikings. The past does not foretell the future in sports, and that uncertainty means that even the most despondent of fans can have hope. Optimism has been infused in Frank Lamping since birth, just as pessimism has long colored Brian McKeen’s purview. Packers fans and Vikings fans might be frenemies, but that doesn’t mean one cannot help the other. Lamping views being a Packers fan in an almost evangelistic way, with a desire to share what he’s learned. “We have green-and-gold-colored glasses on,” he says. “Even if we’re down 10 points with a minute left, we still think, ‘We can do it! We can pull this off!’ Vikings fans just don’t have that. I guess it’s that simple: You just never say die.”

Read this article as it appears in the magazine.

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America is late to the party when it comes to eating bugs, but we’re catching up. According to the World Health Organization, more than a quarter of the world’s population in Asia, Africa and Australia regularly munches on the crawly creatures in both daily and haute cuisine. The West, however, has never been much of a bug-eating culture. 

Why? The smaller size of the American continents resulted in less biodiversity, and without as many bugs to eat — or a real need to eat them — they came to be considered pests. As a result, our evolved reaction to eating insects tends to be one of disgust, rather than pleasure. This is instinctive, but it’s not based in any sort of logical reason or schema, writes Ligaya Mishan in T: The New York Times Style Magazine: “We’re quick to down slippery oysters, stinking cheese and hot dogs made of entrails unknown, but we shy from anything that might once have crawled, hopped or hovered over a picnic blanket.” 

Photography by Spacecrafting

One urban farm hopes to convince Northerners not only that bugs are tasty but that eating them is good for their health and the earth. 3 Cricketeers, Minnesota’s first family-owned company to raise crickets for human consumption, produces its insects in a  warehouse on the border between Edina and St. Louis Park. Husband-and-wife team Chad and Claire Simons, he an environmental-law attorney and she a registered nurse, originally launched the business in 2016 in their basement as a passion project.

“Working with clients in environmental defense and nature conservancy opened my eyes to the effects agriculture has on the environment,” Chad explains. “I had considered insect protein for many years, but it wasn’t until our son brought home a chocolate-chip cookie made from cricket flour that I realized insects had the power to go mainstream. We realized that cricket protein is not only immensely sustainable and mild-tasting but could be delicious and significantly more nutritious than other animal- or plant-based protein on the market.”

With support from University of Minnesota entomology professor Sujaya Rao, who hosted the cricket startup at the Minnesota State Fair last year, the Simons have spent five years developing an urban farm, traveling to Ecuador and other insect-eating places to learn about production then building an efficient model for breeding insects. They aren’t alone in hopping on the bug bandwagon: Small cricket farms are cropping up across the country, and the already $55-million American market is expected to grow by 43% in the next five years, according to research firm Global Market Insights.

“Twenty years ago, the idea of eating raw fish or making kombucha from a little ball of living bacteria would have produced the same ick factor that eating crickets does today,” says Claire. “We need to get on board, though. In the next 20 years, we’re going to see cricket restaurants, just like we see sushi restaurants today. The cricket is essentially the shrimp of the land.”

Here’s the thing: Crickets are a bizarrely magical form of protein, somehow superseding nearly all other forms of protein on the market with a minimal ecological impact. For those who give a hoot about where their food comes from, it would be a tough task to find anything better for your body and for the earth. Raising reasonably priced beef requires substantial acreage for grazing as well as immense quantities of feed and water, whereas raising insects requires a fraction of those commodities for nearly the same amount of edible protein.

“Nutritionally, they’re a one-stop shop,” Chad says. “Very little of the insect is wasted. You eat the whole cricket, which is 67% protein.” With protein, healthy fats, vitamins and minerals, the bug has even been deemed “nutritionally preferable” to beef, pork and chicken, according to a European Journal of Clinical Nutrition study.

Your ears trick you when you walk into the sparkling clean, whitewashed 3 Cricketeers urban farm. Despite the warehouse space’s modern appearance, the gentle chirp of crickets makes you feel like you’re standing in a field at sunset. 

“Cricket protein is produced much more humanely than animal protein,” notes Chad. After the crickets have matured, they are humanely frozen until they fall asleep without pain, just as they fall asleep in stasis each winter to hibernate. The bugs are then dehydrated and milled into a mild-tasting flour that can be used for soups, smoothies, baked goods and the like.

The Simons plan to scale 3 Cricketeers to not only produce crickets for the average consumer but also to show at-home farmers how to produce their own insects. And with this kind of momentum, there just might be crickets on offer at your favorite neighborhood restaurant, coffee shop or grocery store sooner than you think. “We already have the Paleo diet, the Atkins diet, the vegan diet,” says Chad. “Now it’s time for the cricket diet.” 

Read this article as it appears in the magazine.

The post An Urban Farm is Breeding Crickets, the Food of the Future appeared first on Artful Living Magazine.

Sounds pretty perfect, doesn’t it? Alas, I’m not talking about marital bliss, nor is this a page out of The Stepford Wives. It’s a glimpse into what everyday life with personal robots might resemble in the not-so-distant future.

Although she once promised to destroy humankind, Sophia by Hanson Robotics is the supermodel of cyborgs: an eerily attractive humanoid with a penchant for nonverbal communication. She and others like her operate on an artificial intelligence platform and have the ability to measure and react to unspoken human emotion. Not only can these robots read and acknowledge nonverbal social cues but they can also respond in kind with appropriate expressions and gestures of their own. And according to founder David Hanson, this is just the beginning. The future will bring us robots “as conscious, creative and capable as any human,” he asserts.

Alas, while Hanson hasn’t disclosed when Sophia will be available to the public, never fear; Pepper is here. Lauded as “the first humanoid robot designed to live with humans,” it was initially created for commercial use, but the public outcry for a personal version rapidly changed the corporate vision. Spicing up your life will run you about $14,000 over the course of three years (an initial hardware outlay of $1,600 plus the required $360 monthly subscription). What you get for your money is a robot that can gesture, encourage and serve as your home’s technical hub. But Pepper’s most notable feat is not what it can do but how it decides to do it. For example, if the robot thinks you look sad, it may suggest calling your bestie for a mood-lifting chat. If Pepper reads anger in your facial expressions, it may offer up some breathing exercises to help you cool off. Or if it thinks you look a bit bored, it may spin a tune and bust a move.

Photography provided by Trunk Archive

For the truly technologically inclined, next year’s Aeolus represents the robotic holy grail. Arguably the most highly anticipated personal robot of all time, it gives The Jetsons’ Rosey a run for her money when it comes to performing household chores. In addition to completing tasks like sweeping and vacuuming, Aeolus can learn to identify 1,000+ household items — all the better to pick them up and put them in their proper place. What’s more, it begins to recognize each family member (via facial recognition, of course) and their preferences, a knack that helps it predict which items each person is most likely to request. In other words, this hard-wired honey is at your beck and call to fetch your favorite snack while you binge watch some Netflix.

While many (myself included) would consider a robot that cleans the house the best thing since sliced bread, some people are seeking out robots with some very — ahem — specialized talents. Meet Roxxxy TrueCompanion ($10,000 plus required subscription), a humanoid robot with remarkably lifelike features and enough AI to carry on a conversation, react to touch, display mood and emotion, and even speak several languages. Fully customizable (and I do mean fully), Roxxxy comes replete with all the necessary bells and whistles right out of the box. She even boasts a handful of alternate personalities like “Wild Wendy” and “S & M Susan.” If you haven’t yet guessed, Roxxxy is a bona-fide love machine, and the TrueCompanion head honchos make no bones as to her primary function.

While the talents that Roxxxy brings to the table — or the bed, as the case may be — are pretty apparent, a sex robot’s mere existence raises some big questions (among other things). Namely, can someone find happiness with a robot given that AI can only offer artificial love? The experts have their doubts. “People form [emotional] expectations,” warns Matthias Scheutz, director of Tufts University’s Human-Robot Interaction Laboratory, “and the robot will inevitably disappoint.”

But the issue of ethics in robotics goes far beyond those programmed for X-rated activities. Ask any soccer mom who has run one too many carpools what she’s lusting after, and chances are the idea of a self-driving car will elicit wanton desire. While driver-less personal vehicles aren’t yet available to the public, an autonomous rideshare program called Waymo is. And although the idea of never again having to make small talk with a cabby does have exponential appeal, fully autonomous cars as they currently exist are far from perfect. Case in point: The AI (literally) driving these vehicles can avoid obstacles, but it can’t necessarily determine what those obstacles are. And it’s that inability to differentiate between a speed bump and, say, a puppy that’s keeping fully autonomous automobiles from replacing the family Volvo.

So how do you teach ethics to a robot? Enter the Moral Machine, MIT’s platform for “gathering a human perspective on moral decisions made by machine intelligence.” A macabre video game version of Philippa Foot’s Trolley Problem, it has elevated the philosophical debate by introducing the phenomenon of crowdsourcing. The premise is simple: Online users watch a series of scenarios illustrating dilemmas involving self-driving cars and select what they believe to be the moral choice. The information gleaned is then used to inform decisions that AI must make in the future. Call it ethics by committee if you will, but the need for such intel is immediate and fast rising.

Around the world, people in countries like Japan and Korea have already embraced personal robots in their homes, and by next year, it’s expected that one in 10 American households will own a consumer robot, according to Juniper Research. Indeed, this future isn’t some fantasy in a galaxy far, far away. Much like computers, smartphones and all the other once-inconceivable technology we now use in our everyday lives, personal robots are very real. And, ready or not, here they come.

“Will robots change our lives in the future?” muses robotics pioneer Mark Tilden. “Robots won’t just change our lives in the future, they’ll expand them. Not just for fun, but for necessity. We’ve taken the first steps into welcoming them into our homes; we just have to wait a bit to proctor them into making us more human.” 

Read this article as it appears in the magazine.

The post A Look Into Our Not-So-Distant Future With Personal Robots appeared first on Artful Living Magazine.

Photography by Terra Surra Photography

Robyne Robinson on the Importance of Street Art

Global movements surrounding social justice, climate change and the pandemic have caused a resurgence in street art as a form of expression.

Photography provided by LeRoy Neiman Foundation

A Look at Acclaimed Artist LeRoy Neiman’s Colorful Life

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“Event Horizon” by James Turrell (2017) | Photography provided by MONA/Jesse Hunniford

Meet MONA, the World’s Most Unapologetic Art Museum

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Photography by Alan Shaffer

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Photography by Tira Howard and ©Shayla Blatchford for SWAIA

Inside the Native American Arts Renaissance

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Photography by Brandon Werth

Minneapolis Artist Scott Seekins Shows His True Colors

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Photography by Bob Kiss

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Photography by John Loengard

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Photography provided by Revere Auctions and Carlos Gonzalez/Minneapolis Star T/ZUMA Press

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Illustration by Michael Iver Jacobsen

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The post Artful Living’s Top 10 Art Stories from the Archives appeared first on Artful Living Magazine.

Photography by Brandon Werth

I’m sitting curiously close to Minneapolis artist Scott Seekins on a leather chaise in his shoebox Loring Park studio, surrounded by decades’ worth of his work, from self-portraits to tribal-themed drawings to Britney Spears paintings. It’s the first time I’ve seen him up close, as typically a sighting of him — clad in all black in winter and all white in summer — is from afar. It’s easy to make assumptions about the ageless enigma from that distance, but here, in this unintentionally intimate moment, I start to see the person rather than the persona.

You’ve worn all black in winter and all white in summer for five decades. What first prompted you to do this?

I was 17 starting art school. I didn’t like looking normal, but I didn’t really have it formulated yet. I lived in South St. Paul with my parents, and I took the bus to MCAD [Minneapolis College of Art and Design]. I had a layover in St. Paul, and there was this shop with all these vintage black and white suits. The owner was a tailor, and he showed me how to sew on buttons and all this stuff. That’s how it started back in the sixties.

Is it performance art or just a personal aesthetic?

It’s like living installation art. It’s like installation art before it was around. 

How would you define your personal style? 

Improvised and eccentric. I think everyone has the right to do what they want. It’d be better if people had the freedom to do that here, but they’re afraid to not fit in. 

Let’s say you want be a cheerleader every day, so you find all this cheerleader clothing and wear a different outfit every day. Then you go to work and your boss says, “That’s kind of funny, but we have a dress code here, and you have to take that off.” And you say, “No, this is the way I am. It doesn’t affect my performance.” You’d get fired. Or you go home, and Mom or Dad says, “We’re going to see the relatives; take that off.” And you say, “No, Mom, this is the way I am.” You could be disowned.

There’s just so much pressure. I really respect people who dress the way they want 24/7.

People track your whereabouts around town. Why do you think they take such an interest in you?

I don’t really know. I’ve heard the good luck theory. Some people are freaked out and just don’t get it. There are all kinds of reasons. I stand out, especially in white. I get called Prince and Elvis and fag. I get attacked once in a while; that happened after 9/11. It just depends on people’s moods. They see me as a target.

Has this harassment ever made you question your clothing choices? Or has it made you more steadfast about being true to yourself?

More steadfast. I remember once being up north fishing in the white suit, and I was getting it all muddy and I thought, “Why am I doing this? I could have just worn blue jeans.” And this couple overlooking the river from a bridge nearby said, “There you are, the one that wears white in the summer and black in the winter.” It reaffirmed that I could do that. 

Let’s go back a bit. I read that your birth parents abandoned you and you were adopted by a South St. Paul family.

Yes. Mildred was Irish and the only mother that treated me nice. I think she instilled my soft, kind side that people don’t really realize I have. They assume I am a flamboyant, extreme, radical type.

I looked into my birth parents a little bit, and my real name is Anton. Apparently the mother was 24, came to Minnesota, had me then left, which means she wasn’t a teenager getting rid of the baby. Something else was going on. It’s kind of like you lift up a rock and you don’t know if you’re going to find scorpions or something wonderful. Usually it’s scorpions.

I couldn’t get the name of the mother, just that she had died. When I asked about the father, there was no name — nothing. So I just finally decided I’m an individual. If you’re an individual, you don’t have to look over your shoulder to be part of a past. When you’re an individual, you can do anything.

There’s too much emphasis on DNA and race and what percent you are of this and that. I look like I could be a number of things. I’m most likely not Swedish but perhaps Persian, Eastern European. Anton is an Eastern European name — Romania, Bulgaria. I’m not sure.

Do you have many memories from before you were adopted? 

No, because I was only a little over 1 year old. I’m sure it’s emotionally traumatic when you change parents. I’ve always felt that. And I’ve heard that the fear of abandonment is strong. So if you’re close to somebody and they disappear, it reminds you of the early days. There was the first mother who gave me up, then the foster-home mother who kind of liked me then the final, third mother. I think adoption leaves most people with some issues.

You haven’t talked much about your father.

He was goodhearted but more conservative and disciplined. He was drafted into World War II when he was like 33, and he was sent to the South Pacific and saw too much in these horrible battles. He won some medals, likethe Bronze Star, but he never wanted to talk about it. One time when I was playing with his medals out in the garden as a kid, I lost some. He didn’t care.

Did he approve of your black and white outfits?

Not really. But otherwise he was pretty approving. My parents didn’t quite understand it.

What were you like as a student at MCAD?

Lost. I was on probation the entire time, a D+ average. I probably went there too young. I was 17, and I could draw really well, but I didn’t know much about color or design. It was a very tough school back then. I wanted to be a biochemist, but I couldn’t do the math, so I resorted to art.

Do you think you’re misunderstood as an artist?

Sure. You might have a thought that you’re doing one thing then people say it’s something else. The Britneys are a statement against the pseudo-intellectual art of the city, but people look at them as not serious or not academic enough. 

[pointing] Someone just bought that painting of me kissing myself. I’m a firm believer in GLBT rights and letting everyone make their own decisions about relationships and religion. If you want to have a private god, that’s fine. But if you want to impose on other people and start wars, I’m not into it. 

Do you ever wonder what life would be like had you become a biochemist?

I’d probably be sitting in front of a TV eating Häagen-Dazs and drinking a six-pack, have some grandchildren, and be totally unhappy. I’d have a big belly and look like shit.

Does the idea of that life bore you?

Certain things about it would be good. You walk by a beautiful house and say, “I wish I had that.” It’s not a reality for an artist to have a home in Kenwood. 

There’s a real disconnect between the people who live by those lakes and the artists of the community. If those people want art, they want blue-chip art. But they can’t afford good blue-chip, so they’ll get Warhol prints or something like that. And they’ll spend more than they would buying a number of originals by local artists. 

You have said that you stay here not for the art scene, but for the fishing.

Yes, that’s the only reason I have stayed.

What draws you to fly-fishing?

It’s very meditative, challenging and fun. You can have your rent due and you don’t have the money and your relationship failed and your parents hate you and everything’s going wrong, and once you’re out there, you don’t even remember their names. It’s the sound of the water and the beautiful landscape — like living postcards.

How did you learn to fly-fish?

My father. It was the one thing he did do with us.

You’ve come under fire for exhibits like The New Eden, which depicted scenes from the Dakota War of 1862.

When that erupted, people said, “Well, he’s white, and he’s doing this.” And they don’t know anything; they just assume that. I know my history about the Dakota War, and not knowing my ethnicity puts me in a spot.

But even so, your First Amendment rights to paint what you want should be valid. Otherwise you have complete segregation. You have Natives only painting Native themes. Whites only painting blond Norwegians. Blacks only painting blacks. I don’t think that’s a healthy situation.

You’ve created hundreds of self-portraits, painting yourself into history and alongside celebrities. People have said you’re self-indulgent, narcissistic…

If you don’t love yourself, who else will?

Will you create art for the rest of your life?

I haven’t lost the facility yet to arthritis or something like that. It’ll happen; I don’t know when. I hope I don’t end up in a home with tubes. It would be better to just drop dead out in a trout stream. Or you’re with somebody you care about and you’re coming, and your heart blows. That would be a great way to go. 

But sitting in an old folks’ home with the tubes, the drips, the wheelchairs, just waiting for the elements to take you — that’s awful. It’s a very tribal thing to know your time’s up and just accept it instead of clinging. 

Read this article as it appears in the magazine.

The post Minneapolis Artist Scott Seekins Shows His True Colors appeared first on Artful Living Magazine.

“Ah, this one is good,” says Antoine Leclef, Domaine’s chief horticulturist. He holds a tiny but beautiful blossom in his hand. The flowers are freshest when they are in full bloom, between 9 and 10 in the morning, he explains in a soft French accent slightly more gentle than what you encounter in Paris. “You see the yellow heart of this rose?” he says. “That’s how you know it’s ready to be plucked. Put two fingers underneath the blossom and your thumb on top,” he instructs. “Then press a little on top and gently rotate as you pull up.” A perfectly intact bloom pops into his outstretched hand, and he slides it into his apron. “Now you try it.”

Photography by Ben Colmbel and © Nem Architectes

It’s 87 degrees today, and I can feel the Mediterranean sun beating down on my bare shoulders. Distracted by thoughts of the sunscreen I’m not wearing, I mangle the first few roses. “You have to roll with your hand,” Leclef says. “When you do it well, it makes the right sound.”

Moments later, I hear a tiny snapping sound and am rewarded with what can only be described as the most intoxicating scent I have ever encountered. “Oh my god,” I whisper, reluctant to put the bloom down. Inhaling deeply, I close my eyes and have an almost out-of-body experience. Like Proust’s madeleines, this perfectly cultivated rose of May — grown without a trace of chemicals and picked at its peak of aromatic development — has triggered a sensory memory so strong and visceral that I feel my entire body relax. Suddenly, the years fall away, and I am back on Marginal Way in Ogunquit, Maine, my feet covered in sand and my nose nestled in its happy place: deep in the fragrant heart of the wild roses that grow along the craggy shoreline.

The intense emotional response I experienced when first smelling the Rosa centifolia at Domaine can be explained by basic neuroscience: The olfactory bulb — the structure in the brain that receives and relays the scents we breathe in — is directly connected to both the memory-focused hippocampus and the amygdala, which regulates emotions. But I prefer Proust’s more poetic explanation of the transportive nature of smell: “A single sound, a single scent, already heard or breathed long ago, may once again, both in the present and the past, be real without being present, ideal without being abstract, as soon as the permanent and habitually hidden essence of things is liberated, and our true self, which may sometimes have seemed to be long dead, but never was entirely, is re-awoken and re-animated when it receives the heavenly food that is brought to it.”

While I knew it wasn’t the same scent — like wine, each rose’s fragrance is affected by countless variables of the unique terroir, like water, temperature and elevation — I couldn’t help but wonder if the intensity of the scent memory had something to do with the clarity of the rose molecule in the absence of chemicals. After all, the roses at Domaine, like those of my childhood — and me at the time — were wild and free.

•   •   •   •   •

When Françoise Lehmann, Lancôme’s global brand president, first set eyes on Domaine in November 2019, her dream was to create a place that would honor Lancôme’s heritage while moving the brand in a more sustainable direction. Currently, 93% of the ingredients used in Lancôme fragrances are biodegradable, and 73% are bio-sourced. By 2030, the brand is working toward a goal of using 100% sustainably sourced, bio-based ingredients. Today, 100% of what is cultivated at Domaine is organic.

“The people who originally owned the property started farming organically in the sixties, and the people at the other farms thought they were crazy,” says Lehmann. “They said, ‘Why would you grow two roses when you could grow 10 with chemicals?’”

Turns out, the decision to choose only organic growing methods was prescient. “One of the reasons the soil is getting so poor in many other places is because of intensive monoculture farming with lots of pesticides,” says Lehmann. “This is why so many species of birds and animals have disappeared.”

By contrast, the creatures are alive and very present at Domaine. As I continue my tour with Leclef, we are serenaded by 33 species of birds. “The biodiversity really helps the flowers thrive,” he explains, noting that Domaine is also host to 31 species of butterflies, eight species of dragonflies, 12 species of bats and a whole bunch of snakes, mice and other critters. I watch for snakes as we step through the long grass and arrive at a very pregnant mulberry tree, one of 163 species of plants on the property. “You can eat it, go ahead,” Leclef encourages as a rooster crows loudly from the terraced fields behind us. I pluck one of the swollen fruits from a branch and take a bite. It explodes in my mouth. Like the scent of the rose, the flavor of the berry is unlike anything I have ever experienced. Fresher, sweeter, juicier. “Is this what you put in the Lancôme jams?” I ask, making a mental note to stock up before I head home. “No,” says Leclef. “We grow the berries for the birds. They love them!”

“Birds are not crazy,” Lehmann jokes. “They probably all called each other, saying, ‘Come on over here. There should be fewer pesticides at this place!’” While the birds help pollinate the roses, local sheep help prune them. “They are very good workers,” Leclef notes with a mischievous smile. Even the snakes are helpful, he adds. “They eat the mice that can damage crops and spread diseases.”

As we walk, Leclef points out dozens of fresh herbs and wildflowers. “Here is the rosemary,” he says, plucking an exquisitely aromatic stem. “Oh, and this is one of my favorite smells because it reminds me of my grandmother,” he continues, snapping off two green leaves from a bitter-orange tree. “She used a Roger & Gallet soap that smelled just like this. Crush the leaves together and then smell your hands.” I do as I’m told and can’t believe the scent that wafts up to my nose. Woody and hesperidic with a faint hint of floral neroli, it smells shockingly similar to a scented soap my boyfriend in college used that came from Mallorca. He gifted it to me before he went abroad for his junior year in Italy. I pocket my leaves and briefly contemplate picking a few more.

As we reach the end of our tour, we transfer our fresh rose petals into a large burlap sack. (I get permission to sneak a handful into my backpack as a souvenir.) Next, we will transport the petals for processing to dsm-firmenich, a global company with a local perfume distillery. The flowers need to be transported to the factory as quickly as possible; even a delay of just one hour can compromise the integrity of the scent. Today, I have filled half my apron with fresh petals. Leclef says seasoned harvesters like Madame Lafleur (yes, that’s her real name; she has been working here for 50 years) can sometimes fill up to 20 times this amount in just one day using a swift, two-handed method (apparently she can bank four to five kilos in an hour, which makes her something like the Simone Biles of rose picking). This is important because, as Leclef notes, “it takes 800 kilograms of fresh rose petals to make just one kilogram of rose absolute (the intensely scented and highly concentrated oil that perfumers use in fragrances).”

“Smell inside the bag,” Leclef suggests with a broad smile. I gently poke my head into the sack and swoon at the heady aroma. “This must be what heaven smells like,” I think out loud as we jump into a waiting car and head to the distillery.

By comparison to the idyllic horticultural wonderland that is Domaine, the dsm-firmenich fragrance-processing building is where romance meets reality. It is a large, white, uncharming box surrounded by lots of security. Reprimanded about taking a photo, I am reminded of what Leclef said about the perfume industry: “It’s very secretive!”

However, it isn’t long before I am allowed access to the inner sanctum of this inauspicious factory. We don special sterilized boots before entering the lab, where we meet Cyril Mestre, a dsm-firmenich perfumer. We hand him our bag of petals, which he deposits into a machine that can best be described as a flower microwave. After 17 minutes, this process has created a small vial of extremely fragrant rose water. “We call this the watery phase,” says Mestre. “We collect the most interesting aromatic molecules in the flowers by using only water and no petrochemicals. When you use chemicals, you destroy a lot. This new water-based technology allows us to preserve as much of the original scent as possible.”

•   •   •   •   •

The next stop on our adventure is the Barbie-pink main building of Domaine, where Audrey Dangy-Caye, one of Lancôme’s olfactive experts, shows us how perfumers combine different ingredients to make a fragrance. Glass bottles filled with 2,000 raw materials (200 natural and 1,800 synthetic) line four curvilinear shelves of a large workstation known as the fragrance organ. Here I finally smell the much-discussed iris root, which has a sweet, soft, powdery, suede-like scent. We also smell various Rosa centifolia extracts, all differing slightly based on the extraction technology used to capture their olfactive molecules.

After taking our noses on a dizzying journey through dozens of interesting raw fragrance extracts, Dangy-Caye introduces the pièce de résistance: Absolue Les Parfums, a new, rose-centric collection from Lancôme that is launching in September. There will be 11 fragrances in the line, and nine are brand-new. “The idea for this collection is to discover the rose as you’ve never smelled it before,” says Dangy-Caye. By combining the Rosa centifolia from Domaine de la Rose with different ingredients, you can experience the many complex facets of the rose. We thought, why not create a fresh rose, a woody rose, a green rose. …”

The first fragrance, 6 AM Rose, was created by perfumer Fanny Bal at IFF (International Flavors & Fragrances). “This one combines the neo- Absolue centifiola extract with juicy green fruit, lily of the valley, cassis and ambrette seeds,” says Dangy-Caye. We smell five more scents, each more complex than the last. The final scent, Hell of a Rose, was formulated by dsm-firmenich perfumer Nathalie Lorson. “It is meant to evoke a rose coming from ashes,” says Dangy-Caye. Here, the rose extract from Domaine de la Rose is combined with vetiver and ambrette seeds for a more edgy, unisex scent. “It’s amazing that from the same flower, you can create so many different fragrances.” 

•   •   •   •   •

After leaving Domaine, I spend several days in the South of France, taking time to smell the roses everywhere I go. I have a newfound appreciation for the magic of fragrance, and I find myself spending hours exploring perfume shops. But nothing compares to the still-mesmerizing scent of the organic Rosa centifolia petals I have smuggled out of Domaine in my backpack. How long can this scent possibly last? I wonder. It has been four days, and my bag still smells like heaven.

As I pass through customs at JFK back in the States, I am asked if I have any food or farm products in my bag. Looking down, I mumble, “No, I don’t think so,” as they grab my bag and start rummaging.

“Aha! I found it,” the security guard booms triumphantly. With great flourish, he produces a bruised green apple I had stashed there several days ago from my welcome basket at Château de Théoule. “You are not allowed to take this into the U.S.!” he says with clear satisfaction and authority. I smile impishly and apologize.

Heaven is still in my bag.

Read this article as it appears in the magazine.

The post Discover Domaine de la Rose, Lancôme’s Iconic Olfactory Wonderland appeared first on Artful Living Magazine.

Photography by David Crane CryoPhotos

Laura Schara Conquers Alaska’s Matanuska Glacier

Our resident outdoorswoman takes us on an Alaskan hiking adventure with MICA Guides.

Photography by Lee Snyder

The Hobo Way of Life

An inside look at the hobo lifestyle across America and the National Hobo Convention held annually in Iowa.

Illustrations by Martin Satí

6 Extreme Adventures to Get Your Adrenaline Pumping

From wingsuiting to free soloing to whale diving, here are the world’s most gasp-worthy experiences.

Photography by Deb Ransom

Exploring the Polar Bear Capital of the World

Every autumn, thousands of tourists descend upon Churchill, Manitoba, to see polar bears in their natural habitat.

Photography by Jane Osborne/The New York Times/Redux

Digging for Dinosaur Fossils in North Dakota

For those familiar with North Dakota history, dinosaurs are just a part of life. Here’s our experience on a dig.

Photography by Luke Thomas Kjos

Photographer Lee Thomas Kjos is the King of the Jungle

This Minnesotan is the adventure photographer behind major campaigns for brands like Benelli, Cabela’s, Polaris and more.

Photography by Troy A. Davidson

Witnessing Chincoteague Island’s Wild Ponies

To see the swimming of the wild ponies of Chincoteague is to witness a thing of wonder. It is equal parts majesty and mythology.

Photography provided by travelsouthdakota.com

Sturgis Motorcycle Rally Rides Over the Hill

Has the once rowdy rally — considered one of the largest, most historic gatherings of its kind — gotten tame?

Photography provided by Telluride Tourism Board/Ryan Bonneau

4 All-American Adventures to Embark On

From Alaska to Montana, here are the top U.S. destinations to visit on your next adventurous vacation.

Photography provided by Arthur C. Aufderheide

A Look Back at the Epic Plaisted Polar Expedition

This long read details how a band of ragtag adventurers set out for the North Pole from Minnesota on snowmobile.

The post Artful Living’s Top 10 Adventure Stories from the Archives appeared first on Artful Living Magazine.

Photography by AnkNet

Join an Invite-Only Sail

The St. Barths Bucket Regatta might as well be called the Bucket List Regatta because it’s become so exclusive, especially after a three-year hiatus. The comeback happens this March, when monied superyacht owners will swoop into the Caribbean for the biggest social soiree of the season. The event is invite-only for the most extravagant sailing vessels, with friendly competitors vying for the coveted Bucket Cup. No money is at stake (who needs it anyway?), nor are there any advertisements or sponsorships. The billionaires are simply there to, as they say, “win the party,” including four days of beach bashes, open bars and yacht hopping.

Photography provided by Aman

Stay in New York City’s Swankiest Suite

“You’ll never even be in your hotel room” is a phrase often uttered to make you feel a smidge better about New York City’s notoriously shoebox-sized accommodations. But not at the highly anticipated Aman New York, America’s first urban outpost from the high-end hotelier. Only hotel guests (from $3,200/night), Aman Club members (initiation fee: $200,000) and residents (the five-story penthouse sold for $180 million) are granted entry into this hot spot situated in Manhattan’s iconic Crown Building on Billionaires’ Row. All 83 seductive suites have working fireplaces (a novelty in New York City), plus the onsite Italian and Japanese restaurants, speakeasy jazz club, and soaring garden terrace will tempt you to stay in. Not to mention the spa: three floors dedicated to wellness, including an indoor swimming pool (another Big Apple rarity) and a set of “spa houses,” with hot and cold soaking tubs and a private hammam or banya. P.S. In case you’re interested, that Aman Club membership currently has a waitlist (sorry!).

Photography provided by Emirates

Fly Like a Queen

If Martha Stewart is a super fan, so are we. Emirates airline now offers the most extravagant first class cabin in existence. The experience begins before wheels up, with a chauffeured Mercedes whisking you to and fro the first-class lounge at more than 30 international airports. Like a diamond ring nestled in an unassuming box, the suite on the A380 looks a bit simplistic at first. But once onboard, it feels as if you’re in a five-star hotel above the clouds. Endless caviar paired with vintage Dom Pérignon, anyone? Or perhaps it’s “cinema snacks” like lobster rolls while enjoying a new release? Nosh on whatever you like, whenever you like — served upon fine china naturally. And don’t miss the shower spa, where you can indulge in a steamy rinse at 40,000 feet then cozy up in the first-ever Hydra Active moisturizing sleepwear (specially created for Emirates) all while a flight attendant turns down your bed.

Photography provided by Belmond

Ride a Regal Railway

All aboard the most opulent experience on wheels: Belmond’s Venice Simplon-Orient-Express. Though recently restored, the train exudes 1920s-era elegance that makes it feel like you’re traveling within a novel. The best route is the 10-night journey from Paris to Istanbul. Pro tip from luxury travel publicist Melanie Brandman: Book a Grand Suite (from $7,400/night), which features sleeping and living quarters plus a marbled en-suite bathroom with gilded fixtures handcrafted by Parisian artisans. Equally impressive is the 24-hour butler service, which means that free-flowing libations, a private dinner or a tailored bathrobe are all just a bell ring away. A day in the life goes something like this: Check in with a porter then settle in for a multi-course meal (with wine pairings from the onboard somm, obviously). Then perhaps a catnap before evening entertainment in Bar Car 3674. It’s not over, though — midnight brunch follows with bubbles and bites. Finally, it’s time to retreat to your gloriously glam suite and awaken only for breakfast in bed.

Photography provided by Space Perspective

Leave Planet Earth

It feels like space travel is hotter than a newly single Gisele Bündchen. But no need to take a run-of-the-mill rocket when you can travel in style in a sleek capsule. Space Perspective has unveiled Neptune, which will launch in 2024 with just eight passengers per experience. So what’s this swanky six-hour excursion like? The world is your oyster, including cocktails, passed hors d’oeuvres and 360-degree interstellar views. The vessel looks more like an elegant lounge than a spaceship and can be arranged to accommodate a special event — say a dinner party or an intimate wedding. Once you purchase the $125,000 ticket, Space Perspective feels like a private club, with exclusive invites to pre-launch events.

Photography by Simon Bajada

Dine at the Hottest Pop-Up

There’s a slight smugness the comes with visiting a destination before it gets super popular. We’re here to say that Greenland is the new Iceland. And if you’re a foodie, even better. The venerable two-Michelin-starred eatery KOKS has temporarily popped up in an uber isolated locale: Ilulissat, home to just 53 residents. You’ll want to reserve a table stat, as this rare dining experience can only be enjoyed select dates from June to September and is limited to just 30 people per night (the tasting menu starts at $370). No need to fret about lodging; KOKS also offers an overnight stay in one of 15 cabins that sit cliffside along a fjord. To up the exclusivity factor, the property is reachable only by boat, where you’ll pass through the UNESCO-protected Ilulissat Icefjord.

Photography provided by White Desert

Jet to the South Pole

There’s no need to rough it like an early explorer. Welcome to the most luxuriously remote camp on the planet. White Desert is the only outfitter that delivers you to the interior of Antarctica via private jet, with departures November to February. Here, you’ll encounter thousands of emperor penguins while trekking to the South Pole. Accommodations are as posh as the transportation, with 12 guests (both Prince Harry and Bear Grylls approve) staying in tricked-out eco-camps: opulent, heated cabins boasting plush bedding and floor-to-ceiling windows. Chef-prepared meals and cocktails by a roaring fire are the icing (we had to!) on the cake. The area is so seldom traversed, this might be the only time a coworker doesn’t inwardly groan when you show off your vacation snaps.

Photography provided by Rolex

Tour the Fanciest Factory

It’s easier to score an invite to Buckingham Palace than it is to visit the Rolex factory in Switzerland. The “house with the crown” is nearly impossible to see unless you know the right people, says luxury travel writer Annie Fitzsimmons. Rolex has long been an authority on high-end timepieces, so it naturally follows that the brand’s production atelier is akin to a ballet, with precise steps and movements almost as impressive as the final product itself. But you might ask: With iPhones in our pockets and smartwatches on our wrists, are these timepieces still in vogue today? Possibly even more so for tastemakers and collectors, who, like clockwork, are drawn to relics and rarity.

Photography provided by the Palms Casino Resort

Party in a Private Art Collection

Imagine living in a contemporary art museum. That’s what it’s like to stay in the Empathy Suite at Las Vegas’ Palms Casino Resort. This two-story, 9,000-square-foot party pad (from $75,000/night) atop the Fantasy Tower was designed by artist Damien Hirst, and it’s oh so extra. As in, butterflies, skulls and a medicine cabinet full of diamonds. Six of his original works are on display, including two bull sharks suspended in formaldehyde in a white tank as well as a curved bar filled with medical waste like needles and gloves. Of course, all the high-roller requisites are covered: 24-hour butler service, a fully serviced bar, a pool table, a salt therapy room, two massage rooms, and a private pool that cantilevers over the side of the building.

Photography by luoman

Shake it in South America

Picture this: You’re on top of a parade float, letting loose in a custom sequin and feather costume, waving to the crowd like a pageant queen. This is the well-to-do version of Rio Carnival. The Greatest Show on Earth attracts two million people to the Brazil city, where the kickoff is marked by a raucous, celebrity-studded party at the Copacabana Palace. As an esteemed guest of legendary travel outfitter Abercrombie & Kent, you’ll obviously have an invite. This eight-night tailored journey (from $10,000) begins at the Philippe Starck–designed Hotel Fasano Rio de Janeiro, where fashion designers and makeup artists will assemble your ensemble. Don’t worry; you’ll learn to samba before the big Magic Ball. And who needs Instagram? A professional photographer will capture every whirlwind movement. Throughout the five-day celebration, you’ll float above the crowds in a front-row box. After the festivities, a private yacht will whisk you off to Hotel Fasano Angra dos Reis for a restful coastal getaway.

Photography provided by Ritz Carlton, Tokyo

Sip a Luxe Martini

Did you know you can actually drink luxury? The Ritz-Carlton, Tokyo serves a cocktail aptly called the Diamonds Are Forever Martini. Inspired by James Bond, the drink is available only at the city’s tallest hotel. Make your way to the 45th floor bar, where this bespoke quaff is crafted tableside with chilled vodka, a twist of lime and a yours-to-keep one-carat diamond garnish. The $22,200 price tag (just 12 have been ordered in 15 years) includes a live band performing “Diamonds Are Forever.”

Photography by Clive Mason/Formula One

Score a Seat at the Track

A trip to the Monaco Grand Prix is undoubtedly a once-in-a-lifetime adventure, but here’s an industry secret for you: The renowned race is best experienced via small ship, according to Jim Bendt of Pique Travel Design. This highly desirable event sells out each year, with just 7,500 adrenaline junkies in attendance. But guests on Windstar’s Wind Surf need not worry about scoring those coveted tickets; section K for Saturday’s time trials and Sunday’s final offers higher seats (as opposed to benches) that have spectacular harbor views. Two days’ worth of Formula One fabulousness includes themed cocktail parties and a delectable dinner. Come evening, you can avoid the race crowds and escape back to the ship’s Bridge Suite, where a refreshing bubble bath awaits.

Photography provided by Bhutan Spirit Sanctuary

Get Happy in the Himalayas

You’ve done the whole spa day thing: a pretreatment steam, Swedish massage and post-service robe basking session. Let’s one-up that with a trip to Bhutan, an extremely exclusive South Asian destination that’s also a wellness haven. Upon arrival at Bhutan Spirit Sanctuary (which is as high-end as it is healing), head to the Transformation Room to reframe your mindset. Next comes a consultation with an in-house medicine doctor, who will prescribe traditional treatments like ku nye massage or an herb-infused hot stone bath. Sure, there’ll be plenty of yoga, but you might also hike to a monastery to meditate with monks or take a pottery class with the resident art instructor. Each of the 24 guest rooms (from $715/night) feels like a spa within a spa, featuring private outdoor space. By the end of your visit, you’ll be one of those people who actually likes to meditate.

Photography provided by Thanda Island

Escape to a Private Island 

Imagine having your own private island to enjoy with an intimate group of close family and friends — oh, and a resident marine biologist. Located off the coast of Tanzania, Thanda Island is an uninhabited eight-hectare retreat nestled in the Shungimbili Island Marine Reserve, home to nearly 300 aquatic species. In a nutshell: You and your fellow globetrotters will have this protected ring of the Indian Ocean all to yourselves. Upon the isle sits a five-bedroom villa (from $25,000/night) with a long list of enviable amenities: a glass-rimmed swimming pool, cigar humidor, pizza oven, indoor aquarium, Steinway piano — and let’s not forget, your own marine biologist to lead customized snorkeling trips. 

Lowbrow for the High Roller

Like the CEO who loves a street hot dog as much as a glass of fine wine, affluent globetrotters have a certain infatuation with low-end rituals. Think of a simple potato chip dressed in caviar — the perfect high/low combination. Here, six travel experts (including yours truly) divulge their favorite lowbrow food experiences.

Photography provided by Tacos El Franc

Tacos Across the Border

Tijuana, Mexico 

“The best tacos I’ve ever had in my life are at Tijuana staple Tacos El Franc; it’s this buzzy, local-filled taqueria that’s authentic to its core,” says Hotels Above Par founder Brandon Berkson, who grew up in San Diego and takes the pedestrian bridge across the border (bring your passport). He suggests ordering the carne asada and the tripa taco, then snagging a seat in one of the plastic chairs to devour this tasty meal.

Photography provided by the Station Bar

Dive Bar on the Beach

The Hamptons, New York

A place that’s not a scene in the Hamptons? Don’t scoff until you’ve seen the Station Bar. Publicist Sybil Bunn Pool, who summers in Southampton, explains, “We like to escape to our favorite dive in nearby Hampton Bays, the Station Bar. It’s right on the water and has picnic tables in the sand, live music and delicious bar food — plus it’s not at all sceney.”

Must-Try Chinese in Missouri

Springfield, Missouri

This Ozarks destination is low-key famous for its Springfield-style cashew chicken. Invented in the 1960s by Chinese American chef David Leong, the dish consists of fried boneless chicken pieces smothered in brown gravy and topped with cashews and green onions. Like New Yorkers with bagels, everyone in the Ozarks has their place for cashew chicken, and we are firmly in camp Canton Inn. This small, no-frills shack has a few tables, but most people opt for the drive-through. The cashew chicken meal runs $8.15, but bring a 10 spot for a perfectly crispy egg roll on the side.

Photography provided by Les Nautes

Wine on the Water 

Paris

A beloved low-end experience in a high-end destination is as good as it gets. “Les Nautes on the Quai des Célestins serves wine by the glass, and you can sit with the locals on the water,” says Washington Post travel reporter Natalie Compton. “You pay a euro deposit for a real glass and get it back once you return it. Late at night, you can buy a beer from the vendors walking along the river with their coolers.”

Photography provided by the Apple Pan

A West Coast Old-School Diner

Los Angeles

Sure, the City of Angels is jam-packed with fine-dining establishments (where you’re likely to see a celeb or two), but if you want to eat at a true L.A. institution, travel writer Amelia Mularz suggests checking out the old-school diners around town. One such spot is the Apple Pan, which opened in 1947 and to this day serves hickory burgers and cream-topped pies around its original U-shaped counter. The prices have changed since the forties, but you can still get a memorable meal for $20.

Photography provided by Bæjarins Beztu Pylsur

A Haute Dog in a Cold Clime

Iceland 

So back to those hot dogs, but make them Icelandic. (In fact, these might just be the unofficial food of the Nordic island nation.) The must-try delicacy is made with lamb, pork and beef, then topped with onions and various condiments like Icelandic-style ketchup, sweet brown mustard and remoulade. “They’ll run you a couple of dollars and can be eaten anytime, making them the perfect snack or quick meal,” advises Well+Good Deputy Editor Samantha Leal.

Read this article as it appears in the magazine.

The post Inside the World’s Rarest Travel Experiences appeared first on Artful Living Magazine.

Photography by Roy Son

At your first job at a radio station in Charlotte, North Carolina, you opted to use the name “Mickey Conley.” What factored into that decision?

“Mickey” was my cohost’s decision. I was there as Michele. But he thought Mickey was catchier, so that our show could be called “Jerry V. and the Mick.” “Conley” happened because they didn’t think Tafoya was going to work well; they thought it was too ethnic. So I used my mom’s maiden name. At that time, I was just hell-bent on getting a job, so I just kind of went along with it. But when I took my next job here in Minneapolis at KFAN, I said, “I’m going by Michele Tafoya and that’s it.”

Your career is full of firsts, like being the first woman to call an NCAA Tournament game. Did you set out to be a trailblazer?

No, I didn’t. And I still don’t consider myself a trailblazer. I look at Lesley Visser and Robin Roberts, who were ahead of me. I’m one of the longest standing, which just means I’ve hung in there. But no, that wasn’t my intent. I just loved sports and wanted to be a broadcaster, so I thought this was a great marriage. I saw those women and I thought, “I’m going to do that.”

You’re also one of the first female reporters to go into NBA and NFL locker rooms. At some point did that become routine?

I vividly remember my first locker-room experience. It was an NBA locker room. This security guard opened the door and said, “Lady in the locker room.” I went in and walked right toward this player, and I was looking at his eyebrows — I had what I called the “eyebrow rule,” where I looked at guys’ eyebrows so I could never be accused of looking anywhere else — so I didn’t realize he was naked. When I asked to talk to him, the guy sitting next to him said, “Let the man get dressed first.” So I turned around and stared at the floor and waited.

Even now, I respect the players, and I know that they’re not altogether comfortable with it. And there’s a huge double standard. Men can’t go into WNBA locker rooms. Men can’t go into a pro tennis women’s locker room. And yet we can go into men’s. I understand that it’s an intrusion to them, and I respect that. So I’ve always been very cautious when I go in: how I comport myself, where my eyes are, all of that.

Can you recall your most embarrassing moment on the job?

It was during the 1996 Fiesta Bowl. Nebraska was playing Florida. I start doing my sideline report, and I’m sticking to my report, looking at my notes. Meanwhile, a big play is breaking out on the field. And Jim Nantz — bless his heart — has to just interrupt me to call the play. It was very embarrassing.

Lawrence Phillips was the running back on the play, and he had gotten in trouble that year for domestic abuse. Nebraska reinstated him, and it was a big controversy. So then post-game I’m interviewing Hall of Fame coach Tom Osborne, and I say to him, “Is this victory made sweeter by the circumstances surrounding it?” He did not like that question. And there were people who told me I shouldn’t have asked that question. But my thoughts were, “How can I not ask that question?” I definitely got beat up for that one.

On the flip side, what are your proudest professional achievements?

I’ve won two Emmys as a sports reporter. I’m very proud of the group that helped me earn those; we earned them together. I could not do my job without the great people who support me.

One was for covering when Houston Texans coach Gary Kubiak collapsed on the field at halftime as he was heading into the locker room in 2013. Suddenly I’m no longer covering a sports story; I’m covering breaking news. I’m really proud of the way we handled it, and I’m proud I was able to rise to the occasion. We really didn’t know what we were watching; we didn’t know if this guy was going to die on the spot in front of us. We had to tell the story accurately and quickly, but we couldn’t make any mistakes. I’m very proud of that.

I can’t believe I’ve done as many games as I have. I have a drawer full of my credentials for every single event I’ve ever done, and it’s staggering. So I guess I’m proud of my longevity, especially for a woman. Al Michaels is still broadcasting — I won’t say how old you are, Al — but I’m not going to be able to do that. Men can do that. That’s just how it is, fair or unfair.

How has the industry changed over the years?

There’s a lot more of it. When I started, ESPN was really the only full-time sports network. Now you’ve got NBCSN, Fox Sports, FS1, the Big Ten Network, NFL Network, NBA TV, MLB Network, all the regionals — it’s almost too much. With that much more content out there, there are more people working, which is great. But it’s also splintered the audience.

And you see a lot more women doing sports these days. I think that’s great, but I will also raise my hand and say that the most qualified person should have any job, whether male or female. I think for the most part that’s how it happens, but there’s still an impulse to throw a woman on the broadcast. Do it if she’s right for it, absolutely, but don’t do it for the sake of having a woman on the broadcast.

What’s your position on players kneeling during the national anthem?

We all have a First Amendment right, and I consider that their First Amendment right. I’ve talked with some of these guys in depth about why they’re doing it, so I understand what they’re trying to do. But I think their message has gotten lost among all the vitriol.

Personally, I love the anthem; I love that moment. I sing it at the games with my hand on my heart. I know these players don’t mean to disrespect the flag, that they’re trying to garner attention, but optics are important. For a lot of fans, it appears that they are disrespecting the flag and the people who fight for it. I think we are spending a lot more time talking about the issues, which is good. But in this time of such division, I would love to see more unity on the field.

So the football field isn’t the right platform for these social-justice protests?

I think there are better platforms. I would encourage these guys to use other platforms: social media, radio, television. A lot of these guys are doing that now, and I commend them.

Also, it’s not so much the football field — it’s the national anthem, what to me is a very unifying moment. I did the first Monday night game after 9/11. It was in Green Bay, and every single person in Lambeau had a flag. When the anthem was sung that night, it was extraordinary. And that’s what it’s about: I don’t care who you are or where you’re from — this is what we all have in common.

How do your political views — pro-choice conservative with libertarian leanings — factor into your stance on this?

I’m sure they factor in. My political views are solely based on my values. I value a woman’s right to choose within a respectable period of time. I don’t like massive government because I think that makes each individual so much smaller. I really respect each and every person’s rights. If you’re a free person living in a free society, the only thing you can’t do is hurt someone else. So yes, every decision I make is based on my values. But that doesn’t mean I can’t listen to the other side. I want to understand, and I want to be open to that.

What are your thoughts on Colin Kaepernick’s collusion grievance?

I think it’s going to be difficult to prove that the league is colluding against one player. It’s a game where results matter, so if you’re not producing results on the field, you might get cut. It happens all the time.

At one time, Colin was playing really, really well, but that has tapered off. So he’s not on a roster right now. I do think some teams don’t necessarily want the baggage and attention that would come with signing him. But that doesn’t equate to collusion. Collusion means the owners are saying to each other, “Let’s shut him out. Let’s all agree we’re not going to hire him.” I happen to know franchises that brought him in and interviewed him.

Again, this goes back to my values. As a private business, you have the right to hire and fire whomever you like. You can’t discriminate, but I don’t know what they’d be discriminating against with Colin. His political views? No, you can’t do that. It’s about performance. I think he’s going to have a very difficult time proving this. Unless there’s some paper trail that I don’t know about, and I’d be surprised if there were.

What’s your take on pro athletes behaving badly, particularly as it relates to domestic violence?

I think professionals in all industries behave badly. There are bad apples in entertainment, in government, in corporate America and in sports. I think the league has adjusted its rules accordingly; in some cases, it has underreacted and maybe in a couple cases overreacted.

But if a player is accused of something and charges aren’t pressed, I don’t know why there needs to be an additional look at the situation. The legal system is the law of the land. Then again, if you have a player behaving badly who’s representing your league, you’ve got to make a decision about that.

On a personal level, it just pains me to think about anyone being abused. I think we all need to come to the realization that there’s a lot of domestic violence in the world. And people have to intervene and help. So again, I don’t know that it happens more in sports than in any other industry. I just don’t think it’s acceptable anywhere.

Do pro athletes get special treatment in the court of public opinion?

Sure. It’s impossible for that not to happen. That happens in Hollywood, too. It happens with celebrity in general; you tend to get the benefit of the doubt.

But I will tell you that pro athletes are also the subject of major public scrutiny. A guy can fumble in a game and get death threats. That’s not an exaggeration. So there are pluses and minuses that go along with this. You might get a little advantage over here, but believe me when I tell you that these guys are often treated like automatons rather than human beings.

Do you have concerns about the prevalence of chronic traumatic encephalopathy in retired NFL players?

Of course. But I do want to point out that while we have all this research on pro football players who’ve donated their brains, we don’t have research on non–pro football players — you, me, our parents, the guy walking down the street. We don’t have a control group to compare against. What if we start looking at hockey players? Polo players? There’s a possibility we all might have some amount of CTE. There are a lot of unknowns.

Of course it’s concerning. Growing up, I always thought, “Someday I’m going to have a little boy, and he’s going to play football. And I’m going to love it.” And I have a little boy [her 12-year-old son, Tyler], and he’s playing football. I definitely get nervous. And I pretty much told him, “If you have one concussion, we’re done.”

And look, I’ve had talks with John Madden and Bill Parcells, two Hall of Fame coaches, who told me, “Michele, wait until he’s 13.” Then my late father-in-law, who coached at the University of Minnesota, told me, “Michele, they’re too small to hurt each other.”

So far, I haven’t seen a kid get hurt in these games. And Tyler loves it. So what am I supposed to do? I’ve said to him, “We’ve got to think about the long term here.” And I’m very open with him: “Here’s what happened to this guy. Here’s what happened to that guy.” He has said to me, “I’ll do whatever’s best for me and best for my health.” So far so good.

Should the NFL be doing more to protect its players against concussions and CTE?

The league is doing a lot now. It is investing a lot of time and money into developing helmets that will better protect players’ heads. It’s been changing the rulebook to make it safer. I have to believe the league is trying to do all it can, because it knows what’s at stake.

There’s also a growing understanding that health is way more important than hard hits. Because it’s not just whether you use your head in a tackle. If a quarterback gets sacked, he’s often falling backward and you see his head go ba-boom on the ground. And that’s where this concern comes in, the cumulative effect of that.

I think at this point the league is much more concerned about health than it is about fans saying, “I want hard-hitting football.” Of course, the league also doesn’t want to turn the game into something it’s not. So there is a balancing act, but I think it’s leaning more toward safety than anything else.

Sometimes I’m standing there — I’m just so close to the action — and I see a running back running through a bunch of guys trying to tackle him. And I’m looking at his ankles, I’m looking
at his knees, and I’m thinking, “How is he not breaking in half right now?”

These guys just love the game that much. I’m sure they love the compensation that goes along with it, too. But honestly, the stuff they’re willing to put their bodies through is astonishing. You have to love something in order to put your body through that and risk your health every single minute of that game.

Some of these lawsuits are claiming, “The league knew about CTE and hid it from us.” I think that’s going to be hard to prove. If you don’t know as a player or a parent that ramming into another human being with your head might give you a concussion — I think each player is taking their own responsibility when they sign up for that.

And I don’t know that you can prove that it’s the NFL’s responsibility. What about the college you played for? What

about the high school you played for? What about the Pop Warner league you played for? The NFL’s where all the money is, so of course they’re going after the league. But I’m not sure you can prove that the league actually knew and hid it.

Beth Mowins made history last year when she became the first woman in three decades to call an NFL game. What did that signify for you?

First of all, it signified that Beth really earned it. She works very hard, and she has worked very diligently at calling games. I don’t think anyone deserved it more than Beth.

It also signified to me that, based on the reaction, there’s still a large audience out there that’s not ready for it. But I think we’re seeing a shift there, and it’s good. There’s no reason a woman shouldn’t call a game, and Beth’s perfectly qualified to do it. I do think it shows that the gates are opening. I’ve always wanted to call an NBA game. I’m not really involved with that league anymore, so I don’t think I’ll ever get the chance. But I do think this is a positive sign.

Do you ever get tired of fielding questions about being a female sports reporter?

It depends how the question is phrased. You phrased it well, because you advanced it. You said, “Do you get tired of it?” not “What’s it like in a man’s world?” I’m not into identity politics, so “a woman in a man’s world” doesn’t work for me.

I’m a woman, yes. And it’s predominately men, yes. But that doesn’t make it their world. It’s not that black and white to me. I’m doing a job. The short answer is yes, sometimes I do, but it comes with the territory.

What predictions do you have for Super Bowl LII?

I think it’s going to be a smashing success, because Minnesota does a great job playing host. It matters to this state. We’re friendly, we’re warm, we want to make everyone feel welcome and make sure everyone has a good time.

I have zero predictions about the game and who will be in it. We’ve been seeing major players get injured, basically eliminating their team’s chances of going very far. You go into a season thinking, “The Patriots have got it this year.”

Then all of a sudden you stop and say, “What is going on? Nothing is happening how I thought would.” The Titans are way better than we thought they’d be. Oakland’s struggling. You think you know what’s going to happen, but you don’t.

Do you favor any teams or do you stay above the fray?

I stay above it. And it’s one of the most freeing, most liberating things I’ve ever done. I grew up a San Francisco 49ers fan in the age of Joe Montana; I hung on every play. And emotionally, it can tear you apart. Just ask any Vikings fan.

But I will say this: You develop relationships over the years, and I’ve gotten to know coaches and players. So if one of those guys is having a good game, I’m happy for them. If a team I have a good relationship with makes it to the playoffs, I’m happy for them. But I don’t have a rooting interest.

Let’s get personal: You’ve endured multiple miscarriages. What was that time in your life like? Why has it been important to speak about it publicly?

It was the worst time of my life. My husband’s, too. I had the first miscarriage and I thought, “OK, I hear everyone has one now and then.” After the second one, I remember apologizing to my husband, because I felt responsible. I’m seven years older than he is, so I felt like my age was a factor. And it was — the science will tell you. There are biological reasons for it, and it’s as simple as that.

So I said to my husband, “We should pursue in vitro. We’re not getting any younger.” And I think we only got one good embryo. That embryo miraculously split, so we had identical twins going. Then I lost those. I’ve never seen my husband so despondent. And I realized he had been strong for me all along, so it was my turn.

After we lost the twins, which was depressing enough, we did another round of in vitro, but we didn’t get any good embryos. Then I found out my husband’s sister was pregnant. It felt like everyone was getting pregnant except me. They’re all happy, and you’re living with a kind of pain that is indescribable. I felt like, “I can’t do the most basic biological thing that a woman is supposed to be able to do.” It was the lowest of low.

Then we started investigating donor eggs. We did the counseling, and they were starting to look for a match for us. I remember that spring we were in Hawaii for the NFL owners meetings, and I was exhausted. I thought, “Gosh, this sun and the time change are just killing me.”

When we got back home, I ran out and got a pregnancy test. I didn’t even tell my husband. I took the test and found out I was pregnant. This was without donor eggs — this was just natural. And I wept like a child.

For whatever reason, nothing was going to make me unhappy that day. And I thought, “Why are you letting yourself be joyful? You’ve been through this so many times. You’ve lost them all. What makes you think this is different?” And I didn’t necessarily think it was different; I just was not going to let anyone take away my joy that day.

We decided not to say a word about it to anybody. Because the other part of infertility is that everyone tries to give you advice: “You need to drink green tea with a brown sugar cube in it.” I’m not kidding. Someone once told me, “I got pregnant at this little bed and breakfast in Wisconsin, and the bed was facing this way. I’ll give you the address.” Honest to God.

We did the amniocentesis to make sure everything was good. I got the call from the doctor’s office, and she said, “You’re all good. Do you want to know the sex?” And then she told me it was a boy. Everything we had lost had been boys. I could weep right now thinking about it.

I was so nervous. I actually rented a heartbeat monitor, and every day I listened to the heartbeat. It was the most soothing, beautiful, reassuring sound in the world. And Tyler was just a miracle — that’s all there is to it.

We decided after that that we wanted to have more. And I said, “Well, what are we going to do?” We didn’t want to go through that roller coaster again. Then my husband said, “You know what? Now we get to adopt.” Not “have to,” but “get to.” Because of my Hispanic background, we looked at Colombia. That was a two-and-a-half-year odyssey, but Olivia was worth every minute of the wait.

You asked me why it’s important to talk about it — because I know what it’s like to feel that depressed, that hopeless. And I want people to know that there are options. Everyone thinks, “I want to have my own child.”

But let me tell you, it’s really OK. I’ve seen parents stand up in front of an audience of people who want to adopt and say, “I’m so glad we couldn’t have children, because I never would have met these two.” Fathers openly weep telling you, “The best thing that ever happened to us was adopting these children.” So I just want people to know that, because I don’t want them to feel hopeless. Because there’s always hope. There’s always a way to build a family. Always.

If you weren’t a sports reporter, what would you be doing?

I’d probably be in television or film production. Before I started on air, I worked in Hollywood and Universal City doing production management. I liked it.

Do you have any political aspirations?

The fact that I’m even hesitating would suggest yes. But my husband really would not like that life. If you’re a politician, you’ve got a lot of barbs coming your way, and your family gets sucked into that. Right now, no one can say, “That evil sideline reporter wants to take away my welfare.” But if you’re a politician, you’re in the spotlight in a very different way. It matters to me how things go at a state and national level  — it really matters to me. I’ll just have to find a way to affect change where I’m not actually in office.

Read this article as it appears in the magazine.

The post An Uncensored Interview with Michele Tafoya appeared first on Artful Living Magazine.