All photographs and words in this guest post by Christine Chitnis.

As a relative newcomer to New England, I used my book-writing travels to explore the region in its entirety.  I was often struck by the contrasting landscapes that I would encounter.  On one hand, wild, untamed cliffs that drop steeply into the raging ocean below…on the other hand, manicured gardens, and farms, carefully tended.  I am always amazed at how we can cultivate this rugged land, not only to grow food, but to grow gardens dedicated to beauty.

I suppose that when most people think of New England, they think of the coast- and indeed, the coastal land is truly stunning, and most definitely a defining feature of the region.  But, there is so much more to this area of the county, including mountains, lakes, meadows and pastures.

I especially found such beauty in the rural images that I captured.  Centuries old farmhouses, still standing the test of time.  Stone walls, covered with moss, weaving through the countryside.  Cold-frames and greenhouses, erected to grow sustenance during the brutal winter months.  To me…these images encapsulate the ‘real New England,’ and pay tribute to the hearty people that choose to call this place their home.

Christine Chitnis

All photographs and words in this guest post by Christine Chitnis.

I first happened upon Pia’s debut book, Paris: Made by Hand while daydreaming of traveling to the great City of Lights.  I loved everything about her book- the perfectly compact size, high quality paper, gorgeous images, and enticing shop descriptions.  But perhaps one of the greatest things about Pia’s book is that it introduced me to The Little Bookroom, the publisher that would eventually become responsible for ushering my first book, Markets of New England, into the world.

While Pia wandered through Paris, and eventually Amsterdam, I wandered…or shall I say sprinted… through New England!  There was nothing relaxing about my pace, as I covered fifty markets in six states over the course of a summer.  From the rocky coasts of Maine, to the White Mountains of New Hampshire, from open studio tours to farmers markets…I took in all that New England has to offer.

Along the way, I met dairy farmers, butchers, florists and bakers… jewelers, painters, photographers, and sculptors.  I felt honored to witness their creativity and ingenuity, and I was struck by how important it is to support these artisans.  Farmers and artists, when properly supported by their community, can then keep alive age-old traditions of their crafts and skills, as well as create new and inspiring methods of creation.

Although a travel guide book, I wrote Markets of New England with a greater message in mind: I hope it serves as a reminder to slow down and savor the handmade, homegrown goodness in our own communities, and in the far-flung locales we may visit.

Christine Chitnis

all photos and text by guest blogger rani nugraha…

I’ve always said that regardless of where I am in the world, I can always feel completely at ease and at home in the middle of a bustling market. In the instance that the market is selling local produce, I am all the more elated, barely able to maintain my composure at the sight of so many textures, the amalgamation of so many scents and the anticipation of tasting everything I can get me little hands on.

I am sure that this sense of belonging in market atmospheres came from my parents. Having just moved to Australia with a young family, they didn’t have a lot of money for interior decoration and were generally on a tight budget for day to day living. Coming from Indonesia, they grew up at a time when the commercial western world was only just starting to ease its way into the environment. Instead of frequenting supermarkets, malls and cafes, mothers were still shopping for their groceries at markets, youngsters would grab afternoon snacks and icy drinks from markets after school to gossip and flirt a little, and office workers would nip past markets for a gab with friends over lunch and my parents were no different.

In my home town of Adelaide, my sister and I grew up accompanying my parents on their weekly shopping trips to the Central Markets, the city’s largest produce markets, and at the time, one of the few places Asian ingredients and condiments were sold.

Underneath the roof of a building built in 1900 (which is old by Australian standards) stallholders sell a rich variety of local cheese, wines, oils, chocolates, cakes, flowers, meats, poultry, and seafood and there are hundreds of multicultural places to have lunch. (Whenever I am home, it’s a must-go spot with my sister, and more often than not, an argument is bound to brew over where we are going to eat, with both of us having our own favourite haunts.)

My parents would pack their two daughters in the back seat, and a folding trolley with wheels in the boot of the car, and off we would trundle. A few hours later, my parents would leave satisfied that another chore was done for the week, and grateful that their two boisterous children were dozing lazily behind them amongst shopping bags crammed with fragrant herbs and sauces, sacks of rice, and baskets of vegetables.

Having travelled more now, I consider markets to be at the forefront of telling talents in design and the arts, the source for most of my homewares, and destination to aim for when in need of feeding my stomach and soul. The Borough and Brick Lane markets; both in London,  Helsinki’s Kauppatori market square by the main wharf, the traditional outdoor spice markets in my mother’s home village in Indonesia, the stalls underneath the shady canopy of giant Banyan fig trees on the banks of the Brisbane river, the Schanzenviertel festival markets of Hamburg in September, edgy and arty Christmas markets in Berlin, and the tantilising La Boqueria markets in Barcelona are just some of the markets I have sought in my travels, because I don’t consider a trip to a city complete until I have been to a market.

There are so many telling and significant cultural symbols apart from tents and stallholders, so many traditions that take place apart from the exchange of money for goods. A visit to a local market is always rich in experiences, and I am of the firm believe that one can not be unhappy in a market in the company of so many interesting characters.

This week, I want to introduce you to a character-loaded and unique location in Amsterdam that hosts a giant flea market once a month. A short ferry ride to the North of the city, the flea markets on NDSM wharf are an occasion where I take visiting friends, and where I also venture to frequently with my best friend to catch up, play dress up or just buy up.

Never one to leave empty handed, sometimes a review of my purchases a few hours later brings a “what was I thinking?” moment, as I look blankly at whatever it is I am handling. But usually I keep whatever crazy item it is because while it might not have any form or function, it’s still a souvenir of a great day out.

Read about Ij Hallen markets on the CITIZN project here.

x rani

all text and photography in this guest post by rani nugraha…

“I keep thinking about the day we went cycling around dropping off invitations to your book launch  – I saw so much more in the city than ever and was so inspired – it was like I just breathed in your 3 years of Amsterdam experience in one day trip!”
………………………..

The idea for The CITIZN Project had been brewing in my head for months. When it was launched online earlier this week, I wrote the above in an email to Pia, just to tell her it had finally happened, and was reflecting on one particular memory of a day we spent together last year.

Two summers ago, Victoria Hannan kindly introduced Pia and I, just before Pia’s book Amsterdam: Made by Hand was due to launch. A fellow Australian, I had spent some time travelling in London, Helsinki and Copenhagen, finally arriving in Amsterdam without much of a plan or without knowing a lot about the city. Over lunch one rainy summer afternoon, Pia and I bonded over tea and travel tales, and quickly became friends.

I spent those early summer days learning my way around town through guide books, tourist maps and just sheer hopelessness – there’s something to be said about finding your way out of a maze of canals and streets christened with names which you can neither spell nor pronounce.

I was also starting to discover well known hot-spots and must-go places but still felt that I wasn’t really connecting with the city, wondering what I was lacking. I had a home, a bicycle, friends and a job but still felt that I was just floating around a foreign place.

Fast forward to May 2010, when Pia and I were cycling through the tiny lanes of the Jordaan, along the canals of the Nine Streets district and through the city centre, dropping off invitations to her Amsterdam: Made by Hand book launch. Over the course of that day, I became acquainted with the side of Amsterdam that fascinated and inspired Pia as an artist and an author and at the same time, I felt like I was really starting my own dialogue with the city. When we spoke to some store owners, artists, craftsmen, and designers who featured in Amsterdam: Made by Hand, they opened up to us with stories of their crafts, their passions, their stores, their neighbourhoods, and their city. One thing was also clear: They were all enamoured with Amsterdam.

The population here is as diverse as it is charismatic, with it being such a melting pot of creativity, commerce, politics, and culture. I was sure the city was filled with intriguing people, just like Pia and the people featured in her book.

The CITIZN Project was created for residents to share a little about what they love about the city they live in, but equally, I wanted to know more about the people that call this amazing city home. After all, one person’s muse is another’s amusement park: everybody has a different perspective on this bustling global village because of the huge diversity in interests, neighborhoods, nationalities, occupations, and inspirations. A lust for life can be fuelled by sight, sound, taste, or scent, and in my opinion, these things shouldn’t be coveted, they should be shared.

Each person featured in The CITIZN Project shares a little about who they are and the places, events and sounds of the city that shape their scenery.  Ultimately, it’s the people that hold the essence to Amsterdam’s character and The CITIZN Project is just the platform where their stories get told. Over the course of the next few weeks, I wanted to share with you here in Pia’s (blog)house some of my favourite spaces in Amsterdam and shed some light into why I love to live here. With a passion for simple and honest food, live music, impulse vintage purchases and the creative industries, I hope you’ll enjoy my perspective on the place I call home.

x rani

(the following post was written and photographed by (blog)house guest Cath Conroy…)

I have a confession to make. I am one of those people who perpetually lives life in the past or future. Like most humans I have a tendency to focus on where I’m going rather than where I am right now.

My partner* on the other hand is content to while away an entire day lying in the grass, staring at the sky and thinking of nothing but cloud gazing. He is the poster child for Eckhardt Tolle. Me – always worrying away about time I’ve wasted, bills to pay, where I’m headed next and who I’ll be in the future.

The great thing about travel is you have to go with the flow. Trains late, hotels booked out, wrong turn – you really can’t do much about it but let go and enjoy the moment for what it is.

I have been promising to dig up these photo’s of my travels in Japan for Pia for ages (thanks for your patience Pia!). What struck me as I looked through them was how at peace I was in the moment.  They hold a special place in my heart and I can still feel the sense of stillness and contentment that I felt whilst taking them. A good reminder to stop and smell the roses and appreciate all the special moments I have here in my new home.

* A funny note about the term partner. The other day I was visiting my physio for the 4^th time who finally felt appropriate to ask what “she” does for a living. Apparently boyfriend is the more common term here and partner is reserved for the gay community. Not that I mind but sigh, another faux pas on my list of living in a new country!!