I've had to turn on a light at noon! And outside it's now raining, not a little.
I'm due to pick up some packages from Mailboxes on Fifth-- including frames from Beth in Santa Fe, with which I will kit out the paintings for next Saturday's show.
I ought to have gone and got them earlier, but I had no idea rain was imminent.
Last night and this morning I have been doing digital prints of photographs, also for the show at Object Image; this invariably involves a fair amount of tweaking, re-printing.
22 September 2007
19 September 2007
15 September 2007
dream:
In which my family were living back in the house at San Doris Circle, which was much changed.
My mother had a militant and energetic little black dog of a breed called a Fire Terrier, as well as two huskies-- the inimitable Bo (free of leg problems in the dream) and an elderly Chinook. Add to this small menagerie the following:
A rooster, who lived in the house in a wire cage that sat on whatever surface was near to the people (a social bird, with a large black beak that was most un-chicken-like). This handsome fowl was ostensibly quite friendly, but threatened to bite me whenever i got close.
Another bird- perhaps a a parrot or macaw of some sort, whose personality I didn't get a chance to fathom.
I can't recall what else, but I know there were others...
Jon was there, as well as Flip. I believe Jon lived there, but Flip and his family just spent a lot of time there. I was merely visiting, and to the majority of animals, an interloper.
There were a number of staircases in the house, all of which were curving, steep and incredibly difficult to navigate. The main stair led up to the bedrooms, and appeared to have two sections which looked at odds with one another; poorly designed for use, although it made an interesting visual. The portion that gave an impression of having been added on hurriedly bent away toward the master bedroom. There was also a servants' stair, which went from the semi-below ground garage up into the kitchen, and was quite curving after the fashion of a spiral staircase, but larger, and I never recalled that being in the house before. (Indeed, the garage had never been remotely sunken before!) Next to this garage-room was a sort of alleyway, also with stairs, and to the right was a door through which to get to the garage, and on the left another door- looking into a kitchen. (At first I took this to be some second kitchen- perhaps lately of use for the servants of the spiral stair-- but then I saw some strangers in it and realized it belonged to the house next door.).
I'd been following my mother up this stair-alley and we came out upon a vast backyard, where a party seemed about to begin; people here and there and it was a lovely sunny day. She told me to walk around and see the front yard-- see what they'd done to it. I was just in awe the whole time because most of it was very different and much larger than I'd remembered it (and completely different, of course, to what the house was like in reality)-- the decor was of such and eclectic style-- combinations of brightly colored modern exaggerations of victorian pieces and patterns mingled with kitschy fifties elements and some really wonderful chintz. Unbelievable, but somehow very homey and comfortable too. There were strange toys on the floor- like blocks that were also little army tanks, and they made a sound like industry or monsters.
My mother had a militant and energetic little black dog of a breed called a Fire Terrier, as well as two huskies-- the inimitable Bo (free of leg problems in the dream) and an elderly Chinook. Add to this small menagerie the following:
A rooster, who lived in the house in a wire cage that sat on whatever surface was near to the people (a social bird, with a large black beak that was most un-chicken-like). This handsome fowl was ostensibly quite friendly, but threatened to bite me whenever i got close.
Another bird- perhaps a a parrot or macaw of some sort, whose personality I didn't get a chance to fathom.
I can't recall what else, but I know there were others...
Jon was there, as well as Flip. I believe Jon lived there, but Flip and his family just spent a lot of time there. I was merely visiting, and to the majority of animals, an interloper.
There were a number of staircases in the house, all of which were curving, steep and incredibly difficult to navigate. The main stair led up to the bedrooms, and appeared to have two sections which looked at odds with one another; poorly designed for use, although it made an interesting visual. The portion that gave an impression of having been added on hurriedly bent away toward the master bedroom. There was also a servants' stair, which went from the semi-below ground garage up into the kitchen, and was quite curving after the fashion of a spiral staircase, but larger, and I never recalled that being in the house before. (Indeed, the garage had never been remotely sunken before!) Next to this garage-room was a sort of alleyway, also with stairs, and to the right was a door through which to get to the garage, and on the left another door- looking into a kitchen. (At first I took this to be some second kitchen- perhaps lately of use for the servants of the spiral stair-- but then I saw some strangers in it and realized it belonged to the house next door.).
I'd been following my mother up this stair-alley and we came out upon a vast backyard, where a party seemed about to begin; people here and there and it was a lovely sunny day. She told me to walk around and see the front yard-- see what they'd done to it. I was just in awe the whole time because most of it was very different and much larger than I'd remembered it (and completely different, of course, to what the house was like in reality)-- the decor was of such and eclectic style-- combinations of brightly colored modern exaggerations of victorian pieces and patterns mingled with kitschy fifties elements and some really wonderful chintz. Unbelievable, but somehow very homey and comfortable too. There were strange toys on the floor- like blocks that were also little army tanks, and they made a sound like industry or monsters.
11 September 2007
other news
Hoover died last evening. During my nap I think.
I had got accustomed to him, as had Pi, I think; at some point I began thinking of him as Pi's monster, like he was Pi's pet or something. He seemed fine when I got home, but later on when I peered into the tank looking for him ("Where's your monster, Pi?"), I saw that he was upside-down.
Dead.
Once again, the Pi stands quite alone.
I had got accustomed to him, as had Pi, I think; at some point I began thinking of him as Pi's monster, like he was Pi's pet or something. He seemed fine when I got home, but later on when I peered into the tank looking for him ("Where's your monster, Pi?"), I saw that he was upside-down.
Dead.
Once again, the Pi stands quite alone.
catching up
Since last Wednesday, I have been working each day in an office in Manhattan.; I'm covering for a friend and colleague, who took the time off for vacation. It has been a good exercise for me (and has reacquainted me with the reasons I have stuck with freelancing in spite of its drawbacks). The work at the office has been steady, but not overwhelming, and the people who work there are all quite agreeable and friendly, so why do I feel utterly worn-out by the time I've taken the subway back to Brooklyn and walked home? I'm not sure, but I do have a renewed empathy for all who do this routinely. I keep finding myself pushing back things on my to-do list until Thursday, when my friend for whom I'm covering will be back in the office, and I will once again have an entire day in which to tackle "life things". :: sigh ::
* * * *
Lots of bike riding of late! Ben and I biked to some friends' BBQ in the South Slope on Thursday night. We did some afternoon bike-riding over and around Red Hook on Saturday afternoon. Sunday we were out from 1:00 until 10:30 at night! Not all biking, of course, though. We tooled around from place to place- things in between involved watching an hour or so of the Mets game, a game of bowling at Melody Lanes, a ride through Sunset Park, checking out a new wine bar, and finally biking over to Smith Street where we sat outside for a late dinner at Patois. Wheels beneath one shrink the borough greatly, putting much more within reach at speed.
Announcements:
Finally I have dates for the openings of both group shows in which I'll have artwork:
Saturday 29 September
Object Image Gallery
(time to be announced)
Friday 05 October
MCCNY Gallery
(time to be announced)
* * * *
Lots of bike riding of late! Ben and I biked to some friends' BBQ in the South Slope on Thursday night. We did some afternoon bike-riding over and around Red Hook on Saturday afternoon. Sunday we were out from 1:00 until 10:30 at night! Not all biking, of course, though. We tooled around from place to place- things in between involved watching an hour or so of the Mets game, a game of bowling at Melody Lanes, a ride through Sunset Park, checking out a new wine bar, and finally biking over to Smith Street where we sat outside for a late dinner at Patois. Wheels beneath one shrink the borough greatly, putting much more within reach at speed.
Announcements:
Finally I have dates for the openings of both group shows in which I'll have artwork:
Saturday 29 September
Object Image Gallery
(time to be announced)
Friday 05 October
MCCNY Gallery
(time to be announced)
06 September 2007
"macchiato"
Having been driven to a Starbucks™ on account of my dozing off while reading in the park, I wondered for the three hundred and twelfth time what the hell a macchiato was. I am happy to find that it is of legitimate origin via Italian baristas (baristi?), and not some nonsense invented by the McCoffee chain. Whew!
Now that's taken care of, on to other topics.
August is nothing more than a wisp of memory now, it seems, the leisurely day of Labor having passed and September already teething, but in these recent times of Global Warming we do seem to enjoy what used to be called Indian Summer, back in less politically correct times. I know I've been enjoying them. it certainly makes up for the dour and long, wet springtimes that seem to preceed them...
Rambling-- so many words and so little said!
Tara Lynne and I rode our trusty wheeled steeds again to the Isla del Coney on Tuesday. A different route- McDonald Avenue, of elevated train tracks, double parking, mechanized shadows and angles unexpected. A zigzagging whir of helmets and red metal fleck gleaming and disappearing into shadow alternately as trains passed over our heads and traffic kept us guessing... A hot, still day and us riding fast, as we'd lost time and got a late start-- by the time we reached the boardwalk it was time to swim, and we didn't even bother with finding a stair to the beach, just climbed through the fence and raced to the ocean.
Riding bikes in this kind of atmosphere, and for such a purpose as "emergency swimming" (as T.L. put it), makes me feel very much like a kid again.
Now that's taken care of, on to other topics.
August is nothing more than a wisp of memory now, it seems, the leisurely day of Labor having passed and September already teething, but in these recent times of Global Warming we do seem to enjoy what used to be called Indian Summer, back in less politically correct times. I know I've been enjoying them. it certainly makes up for the dour and long, wet springtimes that seem to preceed them...
Rambling-- so many words and so little said!
Tara Lynne and I rode our trusty wheeled steeds again to the Isla del Coney on Tuesday. A different route- McDonald Avenue, of elevated train tracks, double parking, mechanized shadows and angles unexpected. A zigzagging whir of helmets and red metal fleck gleaming and disappearing into shadow alternately as trains passed over our heads and traffic kept us guessing... A hot, still day and us riding fast, as we'd lost time and got a late start-- by the time we reached the boardwalk it was time to swim, and we didn't even bother with finding a stair to the beach, just climbed through the fence and raced to the ocean.
Riding bikes in this kind of atmosphere, and for such a purpose as "emergency swimming" (as T.L. put it), makes me feel very much like a kid again.
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