Biscuits/Showgirls/Fleas/Portraits

Remnants from the most talented and beautiful biscuit baker bassist
The most tender depiction of Marilyn by Michelle

Strolling the avenue searching for flea finds

Living in a box of paints capturing all that I can

The Parade

Holidays (love letter to new york I).

It's begun. Pecan pies line all bakery windows. Ornate baubles grace every naked branch. Giant toy figurines jump out at me in the post office. My first glimpse of a seasonal tree graces the lobby of the NY Public Library and it takes my breath away.

Happy Thanksgiving

accidently eating dinner from the dog's bowl (or piglet's) on the eve of Thanksgiving.

cooking toad in the hole in a miniature 'pizza oven' and on one electric hob.

no gas and blunged into darkness when 2 hobs are on.

a challenging culinary episode, yet the yorkshire pudding did rise and the gravy was hot.

mustard and custard.

no old boots.

'You're so sensitive, you're insensitive'

The gracious, self depricating Diane Keaton, on the definition of neurotic.

What a wonderful woman (and a dead ringer for my mum).

Why can't all the Americans I meet be more like Diane.

A Sweet Autumnal

On Saturday I walked to Brooklyn Museum, taking in the magic of the 'Unnameable Bookshop', a cup of hot cider at the Prospect Park Farmers Market and some thought provoking exhibits. I sought out the Eva Hesse 'Spectres' show, and the 'Centre for Feminist Art' but found myself captivated by the informal talk and tour given by the NY based artist Sanford Biggers around his current show 'Sweet Funk - An Introspective'. I was particularly drawn to the 'Cheshire Grin' appearing and disappearing above his 'Blossom' tree/piano sculpture. Transported to the comfort of Lewis Carroll's 'Wonderland' yet informed by the reference to racial stereotypes the piece embodies. It was a real treat to hear the artist speak and his energy stayed with me throughout an application endured weekend.

Intern

This week I began an Internship at the Centre for Book Arts in Manhattan, which means I can get my hands dirty again in the Print and Bookbinding studios. New work is brewing inside but I'll be much slower on production than these 'Americans at Work' in 1961.

Thanks to Mr Goode for this inspirational clip.

Cinemas of Worth

Cobble Hill Cinema on Court Street, Brooklyn is a charming establishment in which to take in a screening. The seats are soft and low, the kind you can melt into for an afternoon. You can have a hot peppermint tea and a box of gummy bears in way of refreshment. The ice cream selection is unusual but conversation with the usher more than makes up for the lacking in flavors.

Upstate Films in Woodstock, is also a fine place to see a picture. They have the choice of two daily screenings within an excellent velvet lined grandiose theatre. There are traditional boxed sweets such as 'Poppets' for your delectation and the projectionist is very gracious in his thanks for your attendance.

Parade of the Dead & Festival of Altars

November 2nd

San Francisco the only place to be

To parade Mission with the living dead

Gamelan beats to the pulse of the remembered

Sugared skulls and flocks of Aztec marigolds

scatter the blocks

Candle lit hollows face their mortality

We crowd the streets then scatter to sacred altars

I place an offering and talk of the magic of mary

and her love for yorkshire terriers.

ten day views

Homesickness

Dying of Nostalgia - The School of Life

UP State

Taking the bus to Woodstock in fall via Rosendale to meet the lovely team and talents at the Women's Studio Workshop lived up to expectation. So welcoming, they invited us to stay for a delicious and creative pot luck lunch out on the deck amongst the trees. We spent a peaceful and inspired afternoon reading dozens of editions in their artist's book archive. My eyes were on stalks at the quality of crafts(wo)manship, the facilities available from the magnificent Chandler press to the rye paper making stew and the addictive enthusiasm the workshop emits. So generous in sharing their book making world with us, we were bowled over by the WSW interns, artists and staff, leaving the wooded bliss full hearted.

On to Woodstock for a few sun drenched days, where we hitched a ride up Overlook Mountain by a great stroke of luck with the fabulously lovely Mariella Bisson. She gave us iced tea, luscious views and a tour of her magnificent dream home and studio. Reliant on our feet alone, she whisked us off in her car to 'Maverick' and then 'Birdcliffe' for a glimpse of where Woodstock as an artist's utopia began in 1903. Such an inspiration, amongst the rich landscape, the legacy long, I felt a small sense of belonging in those woods.

fleeing the nest

Towards the end of October I said farewell to Brooklyn and headed upstate to Woodstock. This vulnerability greeted me on pavement outside the apartment as I left and was reminded of what I can all too often forget. In San Francisco I met a bird hopping on one leg at the Ferry port and stole a few moments studying her grace and struggle whilst a coconut macaroon melted on my tongue. Luc(k)y.