Against all the advice I was given, I neglected this vehicle.
After
three weddings, a funeral, an exhibition and studio opening, I finished
this summer with a different kind of exhaustion. I wanted to dive,
loose limbed into the deep and scream underwater for one more blistering
day.
I made a summer tote bag for the show, a screenprint from two of my paintings. It was actually terrifying to invest in myself, but it was quickly picked up by various muses and favorite stores. Love Adorned in New York, Ottoman Empire in Fremantle, Chee Soon and Fitzgerald in Sydney. So now I have this very summer at my side. With collected memory.
Thursday
Wednesday
Temperatures risin', it's hardly surprising
Creamer Street studios are kicking along despite the heat and the stink of a mighty New York summer. A smoked fish factory up the road adds brine to the rich olfactory mix established by the exhausted rubbish and industry that surrounds us in our crook of Red Hook.
The last commission was framed and well received and a plethora of exhibition opportunities have arisen since I last plotted word. Tomorrow I fly to Chicago, and drive to Wisconsin for the wedding of a former studio mate, Evan Gruzis and his girl wonder Nicole Rogers. It is at a former Latvian summer camp for boys and girls. I was commissioned to make their invitation.. I won't get lost, as it is a map and after drawing this, it is well and truly situated in my head. I am thrilled, the bride and groom and their circle are a lot of fun and this campsite of sorts blows my tiny mind.
Ahhh canoe time.
The last commission was framed and well received and a plethora of exhibition opportunities have arisen since I last plotted word. Tomorrow I fly to Chicago, and drive to Wisconsin for the wedding of a former studio mate, Evan Gruzis and his girl wonder Nicole Rogers. It is at a former Latvian summer camp for boys and girls. I was commissioned to make their invitation.. I won't get lost, as it is a map and after drawing this, it is well and truly situated in my head. I am thrilled, the bride and groom and their circle are a lot of fun and this campsite of sorts blows my tiny mind.
Ahhh canoe time.
Tuesday
Let them eat cake
Sunday
Go Daddy Go
My Dad still tells the same jokes that were fresh when I was a knee high. Now I tell them. I am still telling people that he looked like the Prince of Monaco, was aptly named after the great economist John Maynard Keynes and raced cars when cars looked racy. I have come to admire his fortitude and persistence, and wish that life beyond retirement was a lot easier- the kind of fun he used to have when he looked like a royal.
Wednesday
Mustang riding
Excuses excuses.. I was here and then I was not.
We reined in a Mustang convertible to take us from San Francisco, to Fresno, San Diego and back through Big Sur. Like any tour, I am still collecting myself now that I am back in New York. I have so many lovely memories and more freckles. In short, I was invigorated by the work of Mark Bradford at SFMoMA, affected by the lifelong dedication it takes to conjure a cool underground oasis from a plot of hard pan at Forestiere Gardens and relish San Diego's most Spanish/Baroque parts. So now I am on an Early California kick, reading Brassai's account of Henry Miller's Paris years, editing photographs and hoping to replicate life Deetjen's style.
We reined in a Mustang convertible to take us from San Francisco, to Fresno, San Diego and back through Big Sur. Like any tour, I am still collecting myself now that I am back in New York. I have so many lovely memories and more freckles. In short, I was invigorated by the work of Mark Bradford at SFMoMA, affected by the lifelong dedication it takes to conjure a cool underground oasis from a plot of hard pan at Forestiere Gardens and relish San Diego's most Spanish/Baroque parts. So now I am on an Early California kick, reading Brassai's account of Henry Miller's Paris years, editing photographs and hoping to replicate life Deetjen's style.
Sunday
Mummy issues
Happy Mother's day!
Observe for today and every other, kiddies.. Extra love to my very dear black-eyed Susie Bloom, wish you were over here to wonder, wander with. What we do.
Wednesday
Family style
I am off soon to meet and talk about a commission. A family portrait, like this one I did for the Pitman family. This one was easy as they like to dress up and fool around. Bella's super cape billowed as she had a tendency to stand over subway grids to get some uplift from train exhaust. She is a showgirl at heart. And Ona, their dog is tortured repeatedly thus. Not much invention was required on my part at all.
Thursday
She sells sea shells.
I just got a note from a framing shop in Brighton, England. They have my Musical Chairs tea towel, a limited edition from third drawer down, framed in their window. And it's getting plenty of attention.
I went to college there for a spell in my third year of college. Exquisitely painful memories of the wind passing right through me and cold baths, an exacting tutor with purple eyes.. and then the thrill of seeing Steven Berkoff in a car whizzing past, learning to etch with acid and goose feathers with my giggly friend from home, Clark, and hiding in my sketchbooks. I learnt to relish the ballast of English life and the relief that comes with making work. I think of those days when I hear the songs of Peggy Lee, see a rickety pier, or a shimmering silver patch on a grey sea.
I have every intention of making this into a print and sending it off to sell by the seaside.
I went to college there for a spell in my third year of college. Exquisitely painful memories of the wind passing right through me and cold baths, an exacting tutor with purple eyes.. and then the thrill of seeing Steven Berkoff in a car whizzing past, learning to etch with acid and goose feathers with my giggly friend from home, Clark, and hiding in my sketchbooks. I learnt to relish the ballast of English life and the relief that comes with making work. I think of those days when I hear the songs of Peggy Lee, see a rickety pier, or a shimmering silver patch on a grey sea.
I have every intention of making this into a print and sending it off to sell by the seaside.
Tuesday
Waiting for the Postman
I am hovering in great anticipation. Waiting for another longlost cheque so that I can continue living. Living in my place, with the lights on at night, making art in my Red Hook studio, eating my greens, dialing out.
Friday
Windblown
I am back at my desk, feeling sated.
Wednesday
A Manhattan Vintage Affair
I illustrated chapters for a friend's website, Olives Very Vintage. Which is why stuffed olives feature in each of these images. Note the savory bridal bouquet and a cheeky reference to an Odilon Redon painting. The vintage clothing fair opens again in Manhattan this week, and I have other friends who are vendors now too. I am so inspired by them and their booty. I'll be hanging out with Amy at Wildfell Hall, and you can see why.
The most thrilling part of this particular job came later, when I met and sold one of this series to Angela Missoni herself. This sole piece, and four others besides. I think I am still over the moon. She was so much fun to chat with, plonking herself down on the ground amongst her collected favourites at the Park Avenue Armory, Pulse NY Art Fair. Her dearly beloved, Bruno Ragazzi, took a photo of us lolling amongst the loot. I wish I had followed through with their invitation to meet to loll about again sometime, somewhere in Italy. Ah perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.. or forse, forse, forse.
Sunday
Springy
Found: that picture I made to encapsulate springtime last year.
The couple who bought it are the spitting image of these two figures. They visited the New York gallery from London the first weekend of the show. Especially. And I was utterly charmed by them.
There is plenty of that 'wandering eye' on the street, now that spring has so spritely sprung again. With
blossoms and blooms and birdsong we are waking, with limbs and bangles
and coloured toes in reveal. That blessed sun is back in play and so are
all the street foxes.
Playing natural selection.
Friday
Thursday
Wonder of wonders
Miracle of miracles. This, issued by National Geographic Magazine, 1937.
Sometimes when the phone rings it seems far too rude or distracting to answer to its pleading bleat. So I have this framed on my wall at home to remind me life wasn't always this easy. And I just talked to my lovely mum, her early morning in Sydney. What sweet relief- she made me feel so much better.. as did the birdsong in the background.
Tuesday
Musing
A photograph of DJ Nikki Nikita as a 15 year old girl has been plugged to my studio wall for months now. Finally, after attempting to resolve some half baked works, I rescued her and started this new portrait.
Found: A new series to pursue. Posters featuring various characters of fiction.
Then the memory of Boo Radley's prized collection and Dill's pale toothy face interrupts the flow. Shylock soon, perhaps Reality Nirvana Tuttle. And Honey Barbara.
Whoa there, I must call Nikki... about our project- a real one.
Sunday
Happenings
When things get utterly disrupted like this water spillage, I swear profusely, clean up, apply bandages if need be, then leave it all behind to take a big deep breath up on the roof top.
Found: a cutting of red hair, still dry.
To get back on the horse, I'll make something fresh, and fast. I have been inspired by the Pina Bausch dancers from Wim Wenders' documentary, listening to the soundtrack on heavy rotation. I want a long rope of hair again, after seeing this film, and more vintage slips to spin around in.
It was a good thing; that spill.
To have come undone. To have seen some daylight. To be provoked to shake it up a bit.
Saturday
Her First Appearance
Found: A beautifully gilded pinstriped book cover.
As ever, I was inspired by the title, and then its smoky arte nouveau heart. My second posting. New to it. First day out of the box. How apropos.
Hello. And thank you for turning into my street. I hope nobody chased you here..
Dress-ups, dressage and escape came to mind.
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