We had to put this issue of The Voice to bed before the women’s basketball team could compete for the championship against Connecticut. So as I write this column, I have no idea of the outcome, even though I’m a believer in what this team, led by Coach Jeff Walz, can do. The staff and I look forward to recapping their season next week.

Meet Zeke

In next week’s issue, I’ll write about Zeke, an almost 90-pound shepherd mix who was rescued from near-death by The Arrow Fund this past fall. If you own or know of someone who owns a disabled pet, I’d love to hear from you. angie@voice-tribune.com or 502.498.2052.

Bill Lamb. Photo By BILL WINE | Contributing Photographer.

By ANGIE FENTON
Managing Editor
The Voice-Tribune

The first book Bill Lamb ever wrote was a romance novel titled, “Once Upon A Lifetime.”

“No one has ever read it,” he said, “but it accomplished a goal.”

Beginning when he was in high school, Lamb’s goal was to write a book. “And that I did; I wrote the book. It was not good, but I didn’t need anyone else’s approval. I didn’t need them to say it was good or bad. I’ve never let another soul read it. It was just to accomplish a goal. … Then my next goal was to write a good book.”

The WDRB and WMYO-TV president and general manager has done just that with “Money Follows Excellence,” a book filled with advice, lessons and stories that point toward a fundamental principle: “Good things come as a result of putting excellence first.”

Lamb, who initially got involved in broadcasting when he was in high school in 1972, began taking notes about the lessons he learned from others and his own theories about life and success, detailing what worked and what didn’t. “Through those years, I had a lot of really good mentors. … The only way you can repay your mentors for the investment they’ve made in you is by doing it for someone else. … This (book) is one of my attempts to repay my mentors.”

At first glance, “Money Follows Excellence” appears to be geared solely toward the business community. Don’t be fooled. Peruse the table of contents and you’ll see chapter titles applicable to many aspects of life: “No Excuses,” “Accept Responsibility,” “Practice Creativity,” “Make Room for Mistakes,” “Carve Out Time to Think.”

Bill Lamb. Photo By BILL WINE | Contributing Photographer.

“Obviously, what I would love is for CEOs, people who run businesses, divisions or major departments, I’d like them to look at this and say I find some great value here … but I think almost anyone can benefit from this,” Lamb said. “I wrote this thinking it would be for people who run companies. After rereading it, I also believe that for young people who are trying to figure out ways to that they can bring more value to their companies, I think there are a lot of principles for younger people.”

Instead of perpetuating popular ideals like “work smarter not harder,” Lamb is matter-of-fact about the importance of putting in the work and, sometimes, the extra hours. “You can’t pay the price of success after success,” he said. “The price of success has to be paid in advance.”

It helps that Lamb speaks throughout the book in a straight-forward, accessible tone and while he’s quick to point out that he hasn’t invented a new way to conduct business, his book often reads otherwise. In short, it’s insightful, inspiring and entertaining.

In one section, Lamb touts the value of “delivering stunning customer service,” but then follows that with a chapter titled, “Don’t Listen Too Closely To Your Customers.” This writer doesn’t want to spoil the subject matter for those inclined to pick up the book, but it’s a definite must-read conclusion to Lamb’s book that ends, “If you play it strictly by the book, as long as the company has a copy of the book, they don’t really need you. Stick your neck out once in a while when your gut tells you you’re right. It’s called leadership.”

Buy The Book
“Money Follows Excellence” is available at Carmichael’s Bookstores, Barnes and Noble, www.butlerbooks.com and Amazon.com.

Contact writer Angie Fenton at angie@voice-tribune.com. 

Emerson Mackenzie Taylor with her parents Connie Leonard and Kent Taylor.

By ANGIE FENTON
Managing Editor
The Voice-Tribune

Connie Leonard and Kent Taylor tell stories for a living.

But the tale of how the WAVE 3 news anchor/reporter and sports director, respectively, became parents to Emerson Mackenzie Taylor is almost too much even for the veteran broadcasters to believe.

The couple, who married Aug. 7, 1999, quietly decided to start a family a decade ago. “We were pregnant a couple of times and it didn’t work out, and that was really hard,” Connie said. “That’s why we didn’t tell anybody.”

Eventually, Connie and Kent decided to try in vitro fertilization (IUVF). “There were weeks when …we drove to Cincinnati three times a week – this is after working (at the news station) until midnight, go to the appointment, drive back and go to work.

When IVF didn’t work, the two took some time off and reconsidered their options.

“That’s when we thought why not try adoption?” said Connie.

At first, they pursued international adoption, but that didn’t pan out. On the advice of a friend, they began to look closer to home for a child who needed a family.

The months drifted by as Kent and Connie waited for the call, which finally came in February 2012. Excited about becoming parents to a baby boy, the duo anxiously awaited his arrival. But at the last minute, the biological mother decided to keep the child, a bittersweet decision “that was pretty crushing,” Connie said. “I cannot tell you how many (news) stories I was on of people beating their children and killing their kids. And here we were. We love kids and can’t have one? Every time I was doing one of those stories, I was getting really depressed.”

After bouncing back from the disappointment, we “spread the web” even further, said Kent, and wound up working with a Cincinnati-based lawyer who specialized in private adoption.

Soon, Kent and Connie received word about a birth mother and birth father who felt ill-equipped to raise their yet-unborn baby and felt adoption would give the child a chance.

“They really put the baby ahead of themselves,” Connie said.

“It just felt right,” Kent added.

“It was like, Now it all makes sense that we had to go through all of this for the past 10 years,” Connie said. “We had to wait for her.”

The due date was Sept. 8, but on Aug. 16, Kent received a text that the baby had been born in a small town in Pennsylvania. Two days later, they were on the road.

“When we left, we had no nursery, we’d had flooding inside our home and the windows had just been put in so the furniture was all over the place,” Kent said.

But they left anyway, driving through the night, taking turns at the wheel. When exhaustion set in, they exited the highway. Every hotel was booked. They drove 20 minutes further. All of the hotels were booked because of a “murder mystery thing,” Connie laughed. At the next exit there was a goat convention. So they drove on. Finally they found a hotel, and rested for awhile before heading to a restaurant where they were to meet with the lawyer and the birth parents. Thirty minutes after the agreed upon meeting time, the couple text the attorney, “We’re nervous.” Connie and Kent held their breath.

Finally, another text, from the birth parents. “We’re on our way.” It was Aug. 19, 2012. A Sunday. And, at last, the day the couple would finally meet their baby.

At least they hoped the tiny girl was theirs.

First the birth parents had to sign over their rights, though Kent and Connie also agreed to keep them up to date on Emerson’s progress. Then, on Aug. 22, Kent and Connie were allowed to take baby Emerson to their hotel, but they weren’t allowed to leave the state until they were given the proper clearance, a process that could take days, weeks, even – in extreme cases – months.

“At this point, we’d maxed out our credit cards and didn’t have much left in the bank,” said Kent. Flooding in the home, car repairs and repeated in vitro fertilization attempts had taken a toll.

“My boss, (WAVE 3 News Director) Kathy Hostetter was awesome,” Connie said. “Not only did she say go do what you need to do, she was sending us Starbucks cards and her husband was from Pennsylvania, so they were helping us navigate.”

Emerson with Cole Abrams, Kylie Abrams, Lily Jane Masters, Sara Wise and her cousin Elizabeth Wilson in Anchorage for Halloween.

At this point, Connie and Kent decided to let the secret out. As they sat in their hotel room with their newborn, they began receiving congratulatory emails from their colleagues. “That’s when Emerson really felt like ours. We felt like parents,” Connie recalled. “Kent was reading all of the emails … and we both just began to cry. We’d kept everything in.”

While the couple awaited approval to proceed to Ohio and then Kentucky, their WAVE 3 colleagues held a diaper drive. “We have not had to buy a diaper yet,” Kent laughed.

Close friends Joey Brown and Kevin Harned surprised the new parents by depositing a “large sum of money in my bank account,” Connie said. “I just started crying. Again.”

On Aug. 30, Kent, Connie and Emerson arrived in Louisville to find their family had cleaned the house and put the furniture back in its place. Their dogs, Maddie and Hank, were well taken care of and anxious to sniff the tiny bundle.

Now, months later, Kent and Connie have eased into a routine that allows them to work together on the night broadcasts, thanks to family and friends who assist with Emerson.

“It’s crazy, all the moving parts of it,” said Kent, “but she is so loved. We make it work. You just figure it out.”

“Someone wanted us to have her,” added Connie. “I just feel like we found her and she found us. We just had to wait for it. Now we look at her every night and say, ‘Oh my gosh, she’s ours.’”

By ANGIE FENTON

The statistic is ugly: Approximately 5,500 dogs are euthanized daily in animal shelters across the United States.

Yet, Mark Barone and Marina Dervan have managed to create “An Act of Dog,” a hauntingly beautiful art exhibit depicting the massive number of canines killed every day.

“This is a pure, purpose-driven exhibit,” Dervan said. “Our sole intent is to help.”

The couple also intends to impact. “Our goal is not to focus too much on the problem. It’s the faces – not numbers. What Mark (Barone) is doing is creating a human interpretation so that each dog is a statement.”

Marina Dervan and Mark Barone.

Barone and Dervan first conceived of the exhibit when they prepared to adopt a dog while living in New Mexico, and learned the sobering statistic. “Do you just do nothing?” Dervan asked. “We must think occasionally of the suffering of which you spare yourself the sight.”

With Dervan acting as the primary spokesperson, Barone went to work painting. “Oh my God,” Barone said, recalling the initial days of the project. “I’ve never been involved in using my work for social change and I’ve never taken on a body of work like this.”

For weeks, Barone painted 12 hours a day, knowing each canvas depicted a life that no longer existed. “There were tough weeks,” he said. “Tough, tough weeks.

The duo soon turned “An Act of Dog” into a nonprofit organization and made a commitment to create 5,500 portraits of canines who have been euthanized in shelters across the country, with the mission of doing their part to create a no-kill society, one person, one city, one state at a time. They also dedicated themselves to raising $20 million dollars to donate to no-kill shelters, animal rescue and foster groups and toward spay and neuter costs.

After speaking with representatives from dozens of cities in various states about housing the unfinished project, Dervan and Barone were finally connected to the Mellwood Art Center, which offered up studio space rent-free for two full years.

Thus far, Barone has painted more than 3,000 portraits and won’t stop until he reaches 5,500. But that may not happen in Louisville. The generous Mellwood “lease” – which was given gratis – comes to a close at the end of March.

“Our goal now is to partner with a city or a philanthropist, even, to house the paintings in a permanent space,” Dervan said. “We’d like to stay here in Louisville. The city gains. The community gains. It’d be a huge tourist attraction.”

It could also be much more.

“Mark (Barone) cashed in his retirement to support this project. We believe in it. We’ve dedicated our lives to it,” Dervan said. “We walk around so softly sometimes. This is our big stick. Hopefully the right people in Louisville will step up. It is only faith that keeps you going.”

If you’re interested in sponsoring a painting for $25 or connecting with Mark Barone and Marina Dervan, contact them at 270.519.0967, info@anactofdog.org or www.anactofdog.org. 

An Act of Dog Open House & Cocktail Party
Thursday, Feb. 7
7 to 9 p.m.
Mellwood Art Center
1860 Mellwood Ave.

He’d been spotted by students at Central Michigan University, where I taught freshman composition while studying for my second English degree. The university police caught up with the fully-grown, black lab-chow mix running around campus. They knew I took in strays, even seemed to have success finding their owners or new homes. So they called me.

I had a big back yard. Yes, I would take him. But this was temporary. I was going to find his owners.

When I picked him up, he bared his teeth at me and growled every time I looked him in the eye. Once inside my tiny duplex, he cornered my own dog, Onyx, a black lab-dachshund I’d had for five years. Despite my desire to find his home, I knew I couldn’t keep him in my own. He was hostile. He was menacing. And he scared me.

I took him to the local shelter, but overcrowding led to a quick verdict from an unimpassioned shelter employee: “If you leave him here, he’ll be dead tomorrow,” she said.

I sighed and turned toward the door, the big dog following closely behind me.

For days I juggled teaching and my own studies with finding the dog his owner, any owner. Twice, he attacked Onyx. Every day, he left a pile of awfulness on the carpet after spending hours in the backyard. I refused to name him – he wasn’t staying – and would refer to him as “buddy,” “pal” or “guy.” We forged an uneasy coexistence. I was determined to find a place for the dog and, more than anything, solace for Onyx and me.

One night, I reached my breaking point. I had just held the elderly dog of a friend who was in Alaska as the canine took his final breath. I came home to another pile of putrid awfulness on the living room carpet and the big, aggressive dog I did not want. I was going to have to take him to the shelter. I turned him out into the large backyard before I went to work cleaning yet another disgusting mess.

After scrubbing the carpet for what seemed like forever, I heard a cry outside unlike any sound I’d heard before. I ran into the backyard, blasting the screen door off one hinge, and saw the dog stuck by his neck in the crevice of the huge willow tree in the far corner, at least four feet off the ground. “Oh, God, Big Bud!” I yelled. “Hang on!”

Within seconds, I lifted him up and jerked him out of the tree. He fell into a heap on top of me and, for the first time, he stayed there. I held my breath as I realized how close his teeth were to my face. Then he licked my cheek – just once – with his thick, slobbery, half-purple tongue, and I did the only thing that felt right: I hugged him and stayed that way until his heart rate slowed to normal and I realized I was bleeding from jerking my hands against the bark of the willow tree.

Just before we got up, I realized I’d found Big Bud a name – and a home.

For the next few months, we both endured obedience classes at the country home of a woman who believed in teaching wayward dogs and their owners how to coexist with her pack of Pygmy goats. Bud and I got head butted too many times to count, thanks to his stubbornness and mine, but finally, I had an obedient dog who also trusted me to lead him. The night I found Bud asleep on the floor with Onyx snuggled on top of him, I knew we were going to be OK.

Over the years, Big Bud served as the fiery protector of me and Onyx. And eventually Herbie, a beagle mix. When Onyx died, Bud watched over Herbie and Jack, a Jack Russell-corgi.  Three months after Jack passed, I adopted Yoda, a chihuahua-dachshund, who adored Big Bud and always seemed to be standing underneath him or lying on top of him.

My favorite moments were our three-dog hikes. “Who wants to go for a walk?” I’d say nearly every day. The girls, Herbie and Yoda, would bound toward the car. But Bud would do a little hop-jump, run a few steps, look back to me to make sure I was coming, too, and then wait for me to step in front of him so he could follow me into the garage.

The last hike Bud, Herbie, Yoda and I took together occurred two days before Christmas in the woods of Cherokee Park. Weeks before, Bud had begun experiencing several episodes of incontinence and unexpected falls that required my assistance to get him back on his feet. He was also unsteady on his feet more often than not. It was merely a case of old age, the veterinarian said. As long as he remained happy and wasn’t in pain, I would do whatever needed doing. Big Bud had always done that for me.

On Christmas Eve, Bud took a nasty fall. It took several minutes to get him upright and moving. I took him to the Shively Animal Clinic. When I pulled into the parking lot, my friends Larry and Robin Kihnley were waiting for me, much to my surprise. Together, we waited until it was Bud’s turn and then listened to the doctor explain his X-rays showed what appeared to be a strong but aging heart and set of lungs. Big Bud and I could go home. Several hours later, the doctor called with the blood test results: all of Bud’s major organs were failing. We were on borrowed time.

On Christmas morning, I fed the dogs and then put the girls in their kennels. “Who wants to go for a walk?” I asked. Big Bud jumped up, stumbled a bit and then lumbered out the door. We went for a walk around the man-made lake at Cherokee Park and ate Slim Jims in the car at the nearby gas station. I cranked the heat up and put the windows all the way down so he could rest his head on the ledge as we listened to music, driving through the nearly deserted streets. We stopped at a Chinese diner and I fed him sweet & sour chicken from the carton.

Back at home, Bud jumped into his chair and I settled on the couch with Herbie and Yoda. I fell asleep until I heard a sound I’d never heard before and saw Big Bud’s body arcing unnaturally. He’s dying. Right here. Right now. In his chair, I thought. Yoda ran to the door. I let her out. Herbie jumped off the couch to stare at Bud. I pet him and told him how much I loved him. His eyes rolled back into his head. I held my breath. And then he breathed again. So did I.

I called the vet and explained what had happened. It was time. Give me an hour, I said.

I put Herbie and Yoda back in their kennels and looked at Big Bud. “Who wants to go for a ride?” I asked. In moments, Bud was out of his chair and heading toward the garage. He stopped to make sure I was coming, too, and gave a low wag of his tail. On the way to the clinic, I picked up my friend, JD Dotson, who looked at me and then in the back seat to Bud, who lay stretched out. “Honey,” JD said, blinking back tears. I swallowed hard. “What music should we listen to? How was lunch?” I asked.

In the parking lot, Bud took the time to sniff everything he could and leave his mark. I laughed and pet his head as he followed me through the entrance. As we stood at the counter, Bud suddenly turned away from me, walked back toward the glass door and stopped, standing motionless.

I slipped around him and knelt down. “It’s time to go, Big Bud,” I said. He looked at me for a long moment. Then, he turned and followed me for the last time.

Contact Angie Fenton at 502.551.2698, angie@voice-tribune.com or @angiefenton on Twitter. 

Modern Voice: Clockwise beginning with Jonathan Blue (lying down in front), Tracy Blue, Douglas Riddle, Stephen Lewis, who’s “holding” Regan Kommor, Craig Stevenson, Lori Kommor, Ron Wolz, Tamar Blue, Talia Blue and Lauren DePaso (seated with head on hand).

By ANGIE FENTON
Managing Editor
The Voice-Tribune

Google, well, Google, and you’ll find much evidence of a culture of collaboration in the corporation’s workplace. You’ll also find a culture of fun.

Googlers, as they call themselves, “consider each other not just colleagues, but friends and family, too,” according to their website. “We play on Google sports teams together, have happy hours and throw each other birthday parties, baby showers and engagement celebrations – we like spending time together and we have fun and celebrate successes in many different ways.”

Over the years, those of us in management at The Voice-Tribune have studied Google and listened to what past and present Googlers have had to say about the company’s culture. We’ve adopted some of their practices and made them our own.

Lead Designer Joanna Hite Shelton.

When it comes to brainstorming stories, photo projects, events, even simple things like sales fliers, it’s not unusual to find Voicers from every department collaborating together.

Sometimes, we spend lunch together outside of the office doing silly things, like skating on the faux ice at Fourth Street Live in costumes (or tutus) or playing bumper cars and Dance Dance Revolution at Gattiland.

We get together during off hours, stay connected via Facebook and Twitter, attend one another’s celebrations and involve each other in our outside interests.

On occasion, some or all of us will participate in impromptu photo shoots with Chief Photographer Chris Humphreys, just because. Or, we’ll all stop to watch a crazy YouTube video, listen to a new song or play a game of Cards Against Humanity (don’t ask) before leaving for the day.

We work hard. We have to. We have a small staff with ever-increasing duties. But, taking time to play – in short increments, not all day – gives us a quick reprieve, generates creativity and it keeps us from taking ourselves more seriously than we should.

Copy Editor Sophie Hottinger.

Perhaps one of our favorite ways to collectively play is designing a popular movie or television promotional poster using the faces of Voicers and their friends, like the ones pictured here. We hope you enjoy – we sure did.

Contact the writer at angie@voice-tribune.com or @angiefenton on Twitter.

Ashley Anderson, Angie Fenton and Sophie Hottinger of The Voice-Tribune.

By ANGIE FENTON
Managing Editor
The Voice-Tribune

It started with a date.

He let me plan the evening and I chose Fourth Street Live as the location, though I normally stay far away from the downtown locale, which has a reputation for catering to conventions, out-of-towners and a late-night party crowd. We’d have dinner there at one of the various restaurants and then, the highlight of our night, would be spent on the ice skating rink installed just before Light Up Louisville, smack in the middle of Fourth Street.

The overall date was fantastic (but that’s fodder for a different kind of story), but what was most enjoyable is how we both kind of let loose once on the “ice,” a synthetic plastic coated with a silicone spray that emulates the feeling of the crystalline solid.

As a Michigan native who has skated on numerous frozen lakes and ponds, it took me a few moments to get used to the surface. But my date, who hadn’t skated in 15 years and had only done so a couple of times before, laced up his rentals and stepped out onto the slippery grounds without trepidation.

For more than an hour we laughed, we talked and we learned something: Ice skating is an art, but it’s also an amazing way to interact with others because it’s hard to keep your guard up when your fear of taking a literal tumble supersedes your worry about making a dating misstep.

Franey Miller teaching Sophie Hottinger how to ice skate.

The activity also turned two people who work more often than not into silly kids who forgot, at least for a moment, about errands, deadlines and responsibilities. It was pure bliss.

So I went back the next day – solo.

And the next day, too.

On the third day, I invited The Voice-Tribune production team to go with me during lunch, eager to get their reviews. What I didn’t expect was that the greatest reactions would come from passersby on the downtown street.

As we skated and fumbled our way around the ice (some of us more than others), people stopped to watch, laugh and ask questions. Who were we? (Voice-Tribune staffers). What were we doing? (Um, skating.) Why? (Because we wanted to see what it felt like). What does it feel like? (Amazing and so fun.) Will you be back again soon? (Oh yes!)

When we returned to skate during lunchtime on a Thursday, we wore tutus for no other reason than because someone suggested it as a joke and we decided why not, before we allowed ourselves to reconsider. People stopped us to ask questions and reach through the railing to touch the “ice.” A few jumped on with us to give it a spin ($5/hour plus $2/rental fee). Others took brochures from the attendants, promising they’d be back with their children and significant others during the non-work hours.

The following day, we hit the ice at noon, this time dressed as superheroes and skated in front of hundreds of people over the lunch hour. Yes, it was ridiculous and silly – but it was so much more. For sixty minutes, we convinced a few of the onlookers to turn off work mode and try out the ice. We made people laugh and laughed at ourselves. I mean, who is going to notice if you aren’t exactly a stellar skater when you’re gliding past Supergirl and The Flash, who keep falling on their hineys?

Angie Fenton explaining what the “ice” is made of.

Over those hours on the “ice,” we forgot about errands, deadlines and responsibilities. We burned a few calories and used muscles we forgot we had. And when we went back to work, we were refreshed and ready to get back to business. We were also eager to plan our next group lunchtime skate.

Friday around noon. Tutus optional.

Contact writer Angie Fenton at angie@voice-tribune.com or @angiefenton on Twitter. 

Fourth Street Live! Ice Skating Rink
The rink is open through Dec. 28. You can skate 11:30 a.m. to 9 p.m. Monday through Thursday, 11:30 a.m. to midnight Friday and Saturday, and 11:30 a.m. to 8 p.m. Sunday. The cost is $5 an hour for adults, $3 an hour for children under 18. Day passes are available for $10 per person or you can buy a season pass for $40. Skate rental is available for $2.

40 Nights of Lights
The city’s annual holiday celebration is now a four-block festival of lights set to music between the Galt House Hotel and Fourth Street Live! – and includes the ice skating rink. The nightly light show synchronized to music starts at 6 p.m. Enjoy free musical performances on Saturdays in December starting at 5:30 p.m. at Fourth Street.

Photo By CHRIS HUMPHREYS | The Voice-Tribune

Growing up in Mexico, Isidro Valencia found his desire and inspiration for bright colors and art in the Mexican culture. “My fascination came through the diversity and splash of colors while living there.” Eventually, Valencia took a few makeup classes as a hobby and, as he says, “the rest is history. Life just inspires me, all the time – it never ceases to amaze me.”

As a makeup artist I am a hard worker, very analytical, confident and a perfectionist. I never put the brush down until my clients are happy. It is important to jump at every opportunity to practice – be it a paid or unpaid job so that you gain confidence from the experience and at the same time build up your portfolio and network.

I choose to do makeup because I’m able to create art with people as my canvas. I really enjoy the creative challenges that I face as a makeup artist. I can use my skills to completely change a person’s appearance or simply highlight certain facial features.

I know the emotional impact a woman’s own appearance has on her and how she is conscious of her appearance in relation to what she’s doing.

I always strive to enhance and build upon my clients’ natural beauty, keeping in mind the atmosphere and surroundings of the event they are attending.

It feels so great to be able to help them in some small way. I love to see the happy smile on their faces.

I’ve learned much working in this field because being a makeup artist definitely makes me a stronger person. I’ve learned to communicate with different types of people and handle both praise and rejection. The key is to be confident in your abilities, listen to your clients and execute what you think is a good combination of the client’s wishes and your expertise. I always learn from my experiences and a bad experience doesn’t get me down.

Model: Alida Anna Roorda.
Photography: Joshua Eskridge.
www.josheskridge.com

I market myself mostly through what I call “girl-to-girl gossip” to spread the word about my services.

I love to use vibrant colors, but I’m also in love with gorgeous bronze tones, luminous skin, bright tropical tints for lips and cheeks, and I love doing a red lip. There’s something so classic, yet so modern about it.

The winter months are almost here, and the skin constantly loses moisture in dry and cold climates, so first things first: Exfoliate your face once a week. Use a fragrance-free cleanser according to your skin type. And don’t forget to use sunscreen no matter the time of year.

Girls shouldn’t leave home without concealer, lip gloss and mascara.

Makeup is all about having fun. I really don’t feel like there are makeup rules, and if there are rules, then I think it’s up to you to break them. Just remember – blend, blend and blend until all the colors are married together for a smooth finish with no separation of color.

Model: Isidro Valencia.
Photography: Joshua Eskridge.
www.josheskridge.com

My favorite makeup products often come from MAC. I also love the hot-pink “Beauty Blender” sponge you can find at most drugstores. They are washable and reusable and the egg shape gives such dynamic blending and smoothing. Other favorites include Giorgio Armani Fluid Sheer, Make Up For Ever HD Microfinish Powder, NARS blush in Orgasm, Dior Addict Ultra Gloss and Mascara from Dior
in Diorshow.

Always

Practice and try new things.

Blend! Blend! Blend!

Use clean tools to do the job.

Never

Go overboard.

Go to bed with your makeup on.

Never be afraid to try new makeup trends.

By ANGIE FENTON

Levon Wallace is sandbagging.

“I like to have a little bit of fun in the kitchen,” says the Proof on Main executive chef with a slight shrug and half smile, moments after he’s convinced this writer to try a hay-flavored gelato. (Yes, hay – and it was delicious.)

A little bit of fun? That’s a bit of an understatement.

Wallace’s affinity for the whimsical was evident in his ever-changing selections of gelato this past summer, but the depth of his talent is on its most spectacular display when the chef has the opportunity to share what he’s done to a dish – and why – prior to its consumption. In short, he makes food fun and accessible to even the unsophisticated palate.

A small group of eaters becomes almost giddy while listening to Wallace describe a dish of pan-roasted dish scallops with squid ink and pea-sized tomatoes from Woodland Farm, which is owned by 21c founders Laura Lee Brown and Steve Wilson. “They’re like BBs of goodness. They take this dish to outer space,” said Wallace. Dear goodness, he’s right.

Turning to the dessert he named I’ll Have Another, an apple-pear fritter with toasted oats, hay gelato and local honey, Wallace explains, “It’s a very pragmatic, honest, rustic dish. … Someone recently ate the dessert and said this tastes like Kentucky – in the best way possible.”

That’s high praise for a West Coast native, I joke with the tattooed chef who, at least when he’s not smiling, can look a bit imposing and would never be mistaken for a native Louisvillian. “Yes it is,” he laughs, breaking into a wide grin. Three of us sample the dish and agree: We’ve just consumed a bite of the Bluegrass State – and we’re really glad the chef’s career path led him here.

Wallace grew up watching Julia Child and The Frugal Gourmet – “all those great PBS shows” – but initially enrolled in the California Culinary Academy in San Francisco just because “I needed to do something.” Soon, he realized he’d found his calling and began apprenticing at a number of the city’s finest restaurants.

According to his official biography on www.proofonmain.com, Wallace “has cooked for several prestigious inns where his culinary leadership has provoked recognition from Zagat and the Los Angeles Times in addition to receiving both AAA Four and Five Diamond Restaurant Awards for Maravilla at the Ojai Valley Inn as the Chef de Cuisine.”

After a spell at the highly-regarded Charlie Trotter’s in Chicago, Wallace went to work at the Harbor View Hotel & Resort and The Kelley House on Martha’s Vineyard in 2008 as executive chef. He took a “more global” turn as corporate executive chef for Scout Hotel & Resort Management in 2010 before taking over for Michael Paley at Proof on Main this summer when Paley transferred to 21c Museum Hotel Cincinnati, which will open to the public with a grand opening in the coming weeks. (By the way, close friends of Brown and Wilson were invited to a sneak peek of the new venture this past weekend. By all accounts, it’s absolutely fabulous.)

“Eight years ago, I first visited the middle south,” says Wallace. “I was instantly enamored not only by the culture but by the way people interact with each other. You certainly don’t find that in L.A. and definitely not on the East Coast. … Chef Paley is a figure in the Southern food scene. When I found out (about the opportunity at Proof and 21c), I couldn’t pass it up.”

Even though Wallace is clearly in command in the kitchen, he’s unafraid to exhibit genuine awe and excitement about his position, which is endearing. “Who has a business meeting about what we’re going to plant on the rooftop (of 21c) overlooking Louisville and the river?” he asks.

After a recent trip to Woodland Farm, a visit he makes often, Wallace said he stood there for a moment and looked around, literally stopping to smell the flowers – and everything else. “There’s something about that property. There’s just something about the ground there, the environment. There’s magic. Everything is raised with love. Not to be too hippy dippy, but there’s magic.”

Seated at a table inside Proof, Wallace looks out the window at a group of people walking toward the entrance and prepares to get back to work. “I love Louisville. Here,” he says gesturing around the room, “I really am at one of those places in the whole wide world.”

Follow Chef Wallace on Twitter @Levon_Wallace. Contact writer Angie Fenton at angie@voice-tribune.com or @angiefenton on Twitter.

Chef Levon Wallace.

By ANGIE FENTON
Managing Editor
The Voice-Tribune

Levon Wallace is sandbagging.

“I like to have a little bit of fun in the kitchen,” says the Proof on Main executive chef with a slight shrug and half smile, moments after he’s convinced this writer to try a hay-flavored gelato. (Yes, hay – and it was delicious.)

A little bit of fun? That’s a bit of an understatement.

Wallace’s affinity for the whimsical was evident in his ever-changing selections of gelato this past summer, but the depth of his talent is on its most spectacular display when the chef has the opportunity to share what he’s done to a dish – and why – prior to its consumption. In short, he makes food fun and accessible to even the unsophisticated palate.

A small group of eaters becomes almost giddy while listening to Wallace describe a dish of pan-roasted dish scallops with squid ink and pea-sized tomatoes from Woodland Farm, which is owned by 21c founders Laura Lee Brown and Steve Wilson. “They’re like BBs of goodness. They take this dish to outer space,” said Wallace. Dear goodness, he’s right.

Turning to the dessert he named I’ll Have Another, an apple-pear fritter with toasted oats, hay gelato and local honey, Wallace explains, “It’s a very pragmatic, honest, rustic dish. … Someone recently ate the dessert and said this tastes like Kentucky – in the best way possible.”

That’s high praise for a West Coast native, I joke with the tattooed chef who, at least when he’s not smiling, can look a bit imposing and would never be mistaken for a native Louisvillian. “Yes it is,” he laughs, breaking into a wide grin. Three of us sample the dish and agree: We’ve just consumed a bite of the Bluegrass State – and we’re really glad the chef’s career path led him here.

Wallace grew up watching Julia Child and The Frugal Gourmet – “all those great PBS shows” – but initially enrolled in the California Culinary Academy in San Francisco just because “I needed to do something.” Soon, he realized he’d found his calling and began apprenticing at a number of the city’s finest restaurants.

According to his official biography on www.proofonmain.com, Wallace “has cooked for several prestigious inns where his culinary leadership has provoked recognition from Zagat and the Los Angeles Times in addition to receiving both AAA Four and Five Diamond Restaurant Awards for Maravilla at the Ojai Valley Inn as the Chef de Cuisine.”

After a spell at the highly-regarded Charlie Trotter’s in Chicago, Wallace went to work at the Harbor View Hotel & Resort and The Kelley House on Martha’s Vineyard in 2008 as executive chef. He took a “more global” turn as corporate executive chef for Scout Hotel & Resort Management in 2010 before taking over for Michael Paley at Proof on Main this summer when Paley transferred to 21c Museum Hotel Cincinnati, which will open to the public with a grand opening in the coming weeks. (By the way, close friends of Brown and Wilson were invited to a sneak peek of the new venture this past weekend. By all accounts, it’s absolutely fabulous.)

“Eight years ago, I first visited the middle south,” says Wallace. “I was instantly enamored not only by the culture but by the way people interact with each other. You certainly don’t find that in L.A. and definitely not on the East Coast. … Chef Paley is a figure in the Southern food scene. When I found out (about the opportunity at Proof and 21c), I couldn’t pass it up.”

Even though Wallace is clearly in command in the kitchen, he’s unafraid to exhibit genuine awe and excitement about his position, which is endearing. “Who has a business meeting about what we’re going to plant on the rooftop (of 21c) overlooking Louisville and the river?” he asks.

After a recent trip to Woodland Farm, a visit he makes often, Wallace said he stood there for a moment and looked around, literally stopping to smell the flowers – and everything else. “There’s something about that property. There’s just something about the ground there, the environment. There’s magic. Everything is raised with love. Not to be too hippy dippy, but there’s magic.”

Seated at a table inside Proof, Wallace looks out the window at a group of people walking toward the entrance and prepares to get back to work. “I love Louisville. Here,” he says gesturing around the room, “I really am at one of those places in the whole wide world.”

Follow Chef Wallace on Twitter @Levon_Wallace. Contact writer Angie Fenton at angie@voice-tribune.com or @angiefenton on Twitter.