Oh, I see! moments
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The Kale Project

by Meredith Mullins on April 24, 2014

The Kale Project leader, Kristen Beddard, with a kale smoothie, part of her life-changing experiences in Paris (Photo © Meredith Mullins)

Kristen Beddard, creator of The Kale Project, toasts her new life in Paris.
© Meredith Mullins

Life-Changing Experiences in Paris with a Leafy Green Vegetable

This could be a story about many things.

  •  a crusader
  • an expat trying to feel at home in a new country
  • inspiration for healthy eating
  • how to awaken an interest for something lost and forgotten
  • persistence
  • persuasiveness
  • success against challenging odds
  • the ability to see a problem and create a project to fix it
  • life-changing experiences

Or, this could just be a story about kale.

A kale leaf, part of Kristen Beddard's life-changing experiences with The Kale Project in Paris

In France, kale was a forgotten vegetable.
© bhofack2/iStock

A Tale of Kale: The Story of a Crusade

In fact, this story is about all these things, punctuated by “Oh, I see” moments of the best kind.

The two main characters are kale and a young American woman, Kristen, in Paris. Both have superpowers.

Kristen Beddard is a kale crusader. America embraced kale years ago, and even overmarketed it into a hashtag. It is the leafy green vegetable that has it all (the food you should probably vote to have with you on a desert island).

However, France needed a nudge. Kale was a légume oublié, a forgotten vegetable.

A nutritious staple in the Middle Ages in Europe and even in WW II in the UK, kale was unknown to most contemporary French farmers and consumers. They hadn’t ever seen it. It just didn’t exist in the French culinary world of the 21st century.

Kristen Beddard with a kale salad, part of her life-changing experiences with The Kale Project in Paris (Photo © Meredith Mullins)

A destiny of kale
© Meredith Mullins

A Leafy-Green Destiny

Enter Kristen—to the rescue.

Destiny? Perhaps.

In the third grade, the students in her class were asked by the teacher to associate the first letter of their name with something that was meaningful to them.

Kristen did not hesitate. “My name is Kristen and I like kale.”

Although most of the kids in class had no idea what kale was, Kristen had been raised with it . . . and many other organic foods. Home was healthy—a place where watermelon was dessert, carob cake was for special occasions, and the words Ding Dong could never be uttered.

“My mom believed in nourishing food,” Kristen says. When I was sick, she fed me brown rice, miso soup, and kale. I associate these things with home.”

kale soup, part of Kristen Beddard's life-changing experiences in Paris with the Kale Project

Nourishing soup, with kale at its center
© Sage Elyse/iStock

Making Paris a Home

Kristen arrived in Paris two years ago when her husband’s job brought them to France. As with all new expat arrivals, she knew it was important to find a raison d’être, a meaningful plan to pass the time and a way to feel at home in new surroundings.

For Kristen, kale served both purposes. It grounded her with her organic past and made her think of home, and it provided a challenge for her present and future.

She had a mission. She would reintroduce kale to Paris. The Kale Project was born.

All Things Start with a Seed

seed packet for The Kale Project, part of Kristen Beddard's life changing experiences in Paris

The first Kale Project seed packet

The first step was to convince farmers to grow this lovely leafy green. Like Johnny Appleseed, she gave seed packets to likely candidates and provided (in her words) a “wholesome, earthy, and fresh” taste of kale to tempt producers and consumers.

A former NY ad account manager, Kristen knew how to sell. She knew the kale headlines in the U.S. were a plus (kale was trending). She knew its nutrition value was unsurpassed (protein, calcium, vitamins A and C, wrapped up in just a few calories). She knew, instinctively, “if you grow it, they will come.”

She convinced several farmers to give it a try.

A kale field, part of The Kale Project in Paris and the life-changing experiences of Kristen Beddard

Kale . . . as far as the eye can see
© Tom Brakefield/Stockbyte

On the Trail of Kale

The next step was to gain the attention of restaurants and boutiques. She talked with chefs. She organized several kale events in Paris to make kale a topic of conversation in the community.

She even briefly pursued being a kale chef, bringing huge bags full of kale from Normandy on the train and turning her kitchen into a production haven for kale chips, kale pesto, and kale salads.

kale chips, part of Kristen Beddard's life changing experiences with The Kale Project in Paris

Kale Chips (They’re Addictive!)
© bhofack2/iStock

(This was a period of frustration for her husband, since the refrigerator full of kale was designated for her clients and not for their own dinner. Kale, kale everywhere, but not a leaf to spare.)

Her passion and drive had results. She began to note on a Google map on The Kale Project website the places where kale was appearing—in markets and in restaurants. The kale network grew.

Jay with kale leaves, the result of the successful Kale Project in Paris and the life-changing experiences of Kristen Beddard (Photo © Meredith Mullins)

Jay, of Cantine California in Paris, makes a mean green kale juice, chock full of kale plus apples, cucumber, and kiwi.
© Meredith Mullins

New Horizons

Now that kale sightings in Paris are more frequent and The Kale Project could be considered a success, what’s next for Kristen?

She has many projects that keep her entrepreneurial spirit busy, including helping people in the south of France and other European countries bring kale to their farms, markets, and restaurants.

close up of kale leaf, fresh from the fields, a goal of Kristen Beddard's life changing experiences related to The Kale Project in Paris

Local produce: fresh from field to market
© Lookamotive/iStock

Like any good environmentalist and champion of local produce, she would like kale to be planted wherever it can grow, so it travels only short distances from field to market.

She will always be a kale supporter. However, she did mention that it’s been hard to find dandelion and mustard greens in Paris. Is there a new movement in the making? Time will tell.

What we do know is that we need more crusaders like Kristen. One person CAN make a difference.

These are the life-changing experiences that make the world a better place.

 

Ready for some interesting kale in your life? OIC offers this download of great kale recipes by Kristen Beddard:

 

For more about Kristen and The Kale Project, take a look at this film made for Dark Rye. If video does not display, watch it here.

If you’ve always wanted to know more about how to massage kale (who hasn’t?), check out this massage video. If video does not display, watch it here.

 

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Cinemagraphs Reveal Beauty In and Out of Focus

by Bruce Goldstone on April 21, 2014

A cinemagraph shows Central Park in focus through a pair of glasses, revealing the beauty of corrected and uncorrected vision. (Image © Jamie Beck and Kevin Burg)

Is clarity always best?
© Jamie Beck and Kevin Burg

Natural Vision vs. Corrected Vision

Autumn leaves flutter in and out of focus in a striking image from Jamie Beck and Kevin Burg’s series of optical animations.

The effect is enchanting. But my reaction to this poetic series is perhaps atypical.

Am I the only one who gazes at this work and sees a powerful argument for the beauty of both corrected and natural vision?

The Secret Life of Photos

Beck and Burg have captivated the web since they created a new style of animated photograph to capture the excitement of Fashion Week in New York city. They call their moving creations cinemagraphs.

A cinemagraph of Anna Wintour at a fashion show, illustrating the beauty of correct vision and natural vision. (Image © Jamie Beck and Kevin Burg)

Cinemagraphs can capture both rapid and subtle movements.
© Jamie Beck and Kevin Burg

The technique stitches together photos to create a simple but persuasive illusion of movement.

Each cinemagraph is a single compelling burst. Like the contrasting images in a fine haiku, stillness and motion battle for the viewer’s attention.

A cinemagraph of a taxi reflected in a cafe window, illustrating the beauty of corrected and natural vision. (Image © Jamie Beck and Kevin Burg)

The ghost of a taxi in a silent reflective loop.
© Jamie Beck and Kevin Burg

You can see many more examples of the impressive and flexible technique at the artists’ site, Ann Street Studio.

Sight and Insight

A pair of spiffy Giorgio Armani eyeglass frames inspired the team to create a series of cinemagraphs in and around New York City.

But what really speaks to me in these shots isn’t how perfectly they capture the hum and throb of city life.

Instead, I’m reminded of the emphatic reaction I had to my first pair of glasses, one of my earliest “Oh, I see” moments. Though, in this case, it was more of an “Oh, I won’t see” moment.

A cinemagraph of Times Square's flashing lights, illustrating the beauty of corrected and natural vision. (Image © Jamie Beck and Kevin Burg)

Times Square in and out of focus.
© Jamie Beck and Kevin Burg

I was about eleven when I got my first glasses. I hated them.

The aviator-style frames were fashionable enough for my fifth-grade aesthetic. But the glasses made me question the whole idea of corrective optometry. Sure, the world looked different. But is different always better?

I didn’t think so. I liked seeing the world my way, blurry though it was.

Each morning, I dutifully put my glasses on so my parents wouldn’t think they’d wasted their money.

A cinemagraph showing some reading The New York Times, illustrating the beauty of corrected and natural vision. (Image © Jamie Beck and Kevin Burg)

Sharpening a morning routing.
© Jamie Beck and Kevin Burg

Then at school, I’d stash them in my desk and the world would return to normal. My normal.

I was used to seeing the world in a lovely Impressionist haze, free of hard edges and crisp details. Doctors and teachers insisted that their world was a better place, but I wasn’t convinced.

I liked my world the way it was. As far as I was concerned, nothing about it needed correcting.

A cinemagraph of the New York Skyline, illustrating the beauty of corrected and natural vision. (Image © Jamie Beck and Kevin Burg)

There’s beauty in the blur.
© Jamie Beck and Kevin Burg

The magical melding of the lights on the Manhattan Bridge in this cinemagraph reminds me of how energetically I defended my right to see the world my way.

In Favor of Focus

My battle against glasses lasted the better part of a year.

Of course, eventually I gave in. There was no exact moment of defeat. It was more of a gradual acquiescence.

In the end, the benefits of seeing where you’re going became, well, apparent. And being able to read the chalkboard turned out to be helpful, too.

And by the time I got to driving, I was a firm convert to the 20/20 world.

A cinemagraph of Grand Central Station commuters, showing the beauty of corrected and natural vision. (Image © Jamie Beck and Kevin Burg)

Crisp and chaotic commuter commotion becomes an ice ballet when blurred.
© Jamie Beck and Kevin Burg

But once in a while, I still enjoy taking a vacation from focus. Without corrective lenses, the world returns to a softer, more comforting place.

Or at least that’s how it seems until I bump headfirst into something.

I’m grateful to Jamie Beck and Kevin Burg for this series of cinemagraphs, which depicts the eloquent balance between natural and corrected vision.

If you want to create your own cinemagraphs, check out this helpful tutorial.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Creativity’s Corner: Where Art Meets Wordplay

by Sheron Long on April 17, 2014

Creative painting and word play by John Langdon showing the word "ME" set against the sky and the word "YOU" formed by the spaces inside the letters M and E. (Image © John Langdon)

“US”
© John Langdon

Look . . . and Look Again at John Langdon’s Illusions and Ambigrams

In life (and at OIC), you often get the invitation to consider new perspectives, to see things from different points of view. Today’s invitation is to a place where the visual and the verbal play together in the work of John Langdon. And the souvenir you take home is a hidden, often deeper meaning.

Let the games begin: How does the painting above fit its title, “US”?

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