16 October 2007
11 October 2007
edinburgh
I'm happy that it's raining today.
I've been thinking about cities, about old cities; how they can feel (in some areas, certain streets) more like formations than something man-made. Edinburgh: those massive brown blocks everything is made of-- buildings that look as though they sprung from bedrock to show off, make us feel small, and in awe. Buildings whose foundations appear unshakable and indestructible (but nothing is), and as ancient as the dormant volcano just outside the city. Massive structures whose density is palpable as you look upon them, and whose stone turns streaked with dark in the rain. Impenetrable but somehow warm, and makes you want to touch it, that stone. It's history that stuck around; it's evidence.
But I'm romanticizing.
Edinburgh has other reasons, too, to be in my thoughts today. One: I was informed that one of my photographs of said city has been shortlisted for inclusion in the Schmap Edinburgh Guide. Not sure how they found my photo, but it was a nice surprise. Two: Today is October 11th, and it has been two years since a rainy night in Edinburgh on which Anders and I met up with fellow Brooklynite, Ben. It was not only a really fun evening, but also the beginning of something totally unexpected, unlooked-for.
I read this line in Oil Notes, by Rick Bass, today: "Falling in love can be a cure sometimes, but it can only be a shot in the arm if you don't need it."
I've been thinking about cities, about old cities; how they can feel (in some areas, certain streets) more like formations than something man-made. Edinburgh: those massive brown blocks everything is made of-- buildings that look as though they sprung from bedrock to show off, make us feel small, and in awe. Buildings whose foundations appear unshakable and indestructible (but nothing is), and as ancient as the dormant volcano just outside the city. Massive structures whose density is palpable as you look upon them, and whose stone turns streaked with dark in the rain. Impenetrable but somehow warm, and makes you want to touch it, that stone. It's history that stuck around; it's evidence.
But I'm romanticizing.
Edinburgh has other reasons, too, to be in my thoughts today. One: I was informed that one of my photographs of said city has been shortlisted for inclusion in the Schmap Edinburgh Guide. Not sure how they found my photo, but it was a nice surprise. Two: Today is October 11th, and it has been two years since a rainy night in Edinburgh on which Anders and I met up with fellow Brooklynite, Ben. It was not only a really fun evening, but also the beginning of something totally unexpected, unlooked-for.
I read this line in Oil Notes, by Rick Bass, today: "Falling in love can be a cure sometimes, but it can only be a shot in the arm if you don't need it."
09 October 2007
change
Autumn can be a time of restlessness, too.
Things change, transform. Some things die. The threat of dormancy looms. The urge for hibernation, for hiding, can come on strong and unexpected. It is a time for vigilance! One must be ready for anything-- strong and easy-breezy; carefree and confident.
It is never a good time to let things sneak up on you, but least of all at this shifting, unpredictable time of year. Don't get me wrong; it can be a wonderful thing to be blind-sided now and again, but one must know where one's weaknesses lie. One must be prepared to shift as nimbly as the wind does on fall evenings, as swiftly as firelight.
Things change, transform. Some things die. The threat of dormancy looms. The urge for hibernation, for hiding, can come on strong and unexpected. It is a time for vigilance! One must be ready for anything-- strong and easy-breezy; carefree and confident.
It is never a good time to let things sneak up on you, but least of all at this shifting, unpredictable time of year. Don't get me wrong; it can be a wonderful thing to be blind-sided now and again, but one must know where one's weaknesses lie. One must be prepared to shift as nimbly as the wind does on fall evenings, as swiftly as firelight.
01 October 2007
Artist as Traveler
the corner with my works on canvas, Object Image Gallery
Saturday was the opening reception for the Artist as Traveler, a group show in which I participated with four other artists, held at the Object Image Gallery on 5th Avenue here in Brooklyn. It was a wonderful turnout and I want to thank everyone for supporting! And thanks to Bob, the owner and fellow artist, for inviting me to show my work.
22 September 2007
dark and rain.
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.
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.
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.
29 August 2007
a funeral by the sea
Tara Lynne and I buried Trés deep in the sands of Coney Island yesterday.
We rode our bikes out to the seaside, by way of Bedford Avenue, lined with so many large old houses, with proper yards and driveways-- "real" houses. The day was balmy and pleasant with sun and breezes, and it was a good ride. On the ride back darkness came quickly as soon as we got away from the shore.
We played Nines with a deck from Rehoboth Beach, sitting at a table in front of Ruby's. We wondered whether Ruby's will survive the impending re-development of Coney. The 6 Spades card fluttered from the table at one point, and slipped easily between decking boards, lost forever! So we altered a Joker to take its place, and made up special rules about it.
We rode our bikes out to the seaside, by way of Bedford Avenue, lined with so many large old houses, with proper yards and driveways-- "real" houses. The day was balmy and pleasant with sun and breezes, and it was a good ride. On the ride back darkness came quickly as soon as we got away from the shore.
We played Nines with a deck from Rehoboth Beach, sitting at a table in front of Ruby's. We wondered whether Ruby's will survive the impending re-development of Coney. The 6 Spades card fluttered from the table at one point, and slipped easily between decking boards, lost forever! So we altered a Joker to take its place, and made up special rules about it.
28 August 2007
27 August 2007
trouble
I am simply having a devil of a time taking care of the behemoth fishes these days. Tres somehow managed to injure himself over the weekend; apparently in the wee hours of the night. At feeding time Sunday morning, I noticed he was lying in a corner on the bottom and didn't immediately swim up for food (always a bad sign). He has a cut on his lip, and has mostly been lying on his side since, occasionally getting up and swimming around normally, but with struggle.
He has often exhibited signs of what I can only associate with epileptic seizures, if those are possible in a fish-- wherein one moment he is swimming along, quite in control, and the next he is overcome by a twitching and shaking, often leading him to collide with the sides or bottom of the tank. My assumption, as he shows no outward signs of illness, is that he must've had a bad one, and has got himself very bruised up as a result. I added a tonic for wounds to their tank water, but I think there may be nothing else I can do but allow him to rest. Nothing else I can think of. Pi is perfectly healthy (if a little freaked out), so it's definitely not the water.
I am feeling discouraged. Between my summer-long fight with cloudy water, and now this, I really don't know what to do.
He has often exhibited signs of what I can only associate with epileptic seizures, if those are possible in a fish-- wherein one moment he is swimming along, quite in control, and the next he is overcome by a twitching and shaking, often leading him to collide with the sides or bottom of the tank. My assumption, as he shows no outward signs of illness, is that he must've had a bad one, and has got himself very bruised up as a result. I added a tonic for wounds to their tank water, but I think there may be nothing else I can do but allow him to rest. Nothing else I can think of. Pi is perfectly healthy (if a little freaked out), so it's definitely not the water.
I am feeling discouraged. Between my summer-long fight with cloudy water, and now this, I really don't know what to do.
24 August 2007
s p a m
Luxury Timepieces!
Thank You We are ready to approve your request!
What makes us Special!
You have new mail from Olga!
Get a massive self-confidence boost!
Sign up for this, Fuckwit!
Thank You We are ready to approve your request!
What makes us Special!
You have new mail from Olga!
Get a massive self-confidence boost!
Sign up for this, Fuckwit!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
