Don't Tread On Me

I see the weirdest things on my morning walk. Once in a great while, I remember to bring my camera along to record the more memorable moments. Like the above coiled, and apparently ready to strike, snake. (Which is actually a bank, as there is a slot in its head). Somebody carefully placed it on the lid of a sewer line at the juncture of the dirt road and the end of our road. It's been there since this summer. Only now do I get around to documenting it...
Anyway, I am deep in the throes of that jittery, quasi-anxious stage at the end of one art project and the beginning of another. I finally finished my "Hold Menu" collages and am very happy with the seven pieces that I made. They look great as a suite or series, but work on their own. And who isn't plagued by those bland, computer generated voices that encourage us to, "Hold the line; your call is very important to us". The project that I have just begun, have been conceptualizing for a couple of weeks, is taking me in some pretty uncomfortable directions. I typically do a bit of "research" and this piece (which will be an artist's book) has got me looking into an unpleasant subculture. I hate to be so vague, but when I'm initially involved in a new project, I often can't/don't want to divulge too much. I am not sure if it's superstition that I might jinx my plans, or whether it's just that I quite simply am very foggy myself about where I'm going and can't take others along on such an unplanned ride. Or something. I frequently go through a prolonged gestation period; it sort of feels like you have on someone else's damp socks and they're a size too small. Something to think about! But ideas keep coming.
Update on that accursed sweet potato. You will recall that Bob stuck one in a glass of water, fully eight days ago, now. Still no sprouting, so we suspect "Bud Nip". Heaven help us! Clorpropham is here! In or home!

It takes on a wholly new sinister look, sort of like the Dick Cheney of sweet potatoes. Already things to look out for in the New Year. 

(What We All Need is a) Pre-Christmas Rant

Hey! Remember him? That's right; the half- burned Santa from Hell. Actually, Bob and I retrieved this Santa (with the help of our beloved friend and artist extraordinare Wasil) from a still smoldering slag heap in Shamokin, Pennslyvania several years back. It was early summer and he had apparently been sacrificed by some coal country crazies. But at least he's found a new home among us North Country heathens and was featured on our Christmas card when we were in between housing... let's just not go there.
Anyway, it's the eve of Christmas eve and as good a time as any to promote unhealthy habits and a healthy dose of nihilism. Good ahead! have more eggnog and bacon or eat another gross of cookies! Why not? I think I've started in on food because this is the season to over eat and the repent, isn't it? Well, we may not even have to repent as the world as we know it may end very soon indeed. So much for my being thrilled about ObamaCare! We'll all need it in a big way before much longer...
What am I referring to, obliquely? How about Fukufuckingshima and the fact that that "incident" is still happening. There is so much radioactive water pouring out of that derelict plant every day and true "containment" is years away. Have you heard that they want to try and put walls of ice around it? That'll take ages! And in the mean time, they're attempting to extract the rods, very slowly, very carefully as there's a really big bang waiting in there somewhere if one touches another- and there are hundreds of them! There are these hastily bolted together vessels, stacked on one another in endless rows; what are they- or we- going to do with all those containers? Any one got a bright idea?
The radioactivity has already reached California, according to maps and models. West coast fish is no doubt contaminated and I do so like my salmon. I guess we'll be eating canned food from some other decade down in our fall out shelters.

And food in these fine United States? Has everyone (I hope) seen the little video about a ten year old school kid who was assigned the typical science experiment of sticking toothpicks into a sweet potato and watching it sprout? She waited and waited and waited and started doing a little research. Turns out they treat sweet potatoes  (and so many other foods) with a chemical cheerily called "Bud Nip" that chemically prevents foods from sprouting and weeds from growing. But we're eating this stuff! In the meantime, she got an organic sweet potato from a farmers market and stuck toothpicks into it and mounted it in water and it sprouted right away! Bob took a sweet potato from the box we'd purchased; he's hoping that it sprouts.
Scary, no? Bob and I aren't quite sure what to eat for the holidays...
That's why I'm sort of nihilist this Xmas season; have another cookie! Have a good time!

Not Quite as Bad as it Looks

Doesn't that look just awful? Only in our sink! It is an unhappy confluence of melting ice and my dumping my left over coffee on top... looks nasty! Don't worry; the images get nicer as you go along.

Look! Here's the naked Xmas tree! I'm very happy now. In case we don't remember, the two things that make Christmas Christmas for me are Christmas cookies and the tree. What a nice surprise that Bob went yesterday and got a funny, very wide tree from our friend Joe's yard. It made the fact that we had more snow and very cold weather sort of tolerable. I'm sorry, I was crabby all day because of all this early winter weather and nascent cabin fever. I'm already sick of winter.

That's better! Pretty much all lighted and decorated, but the nicest part was when I went to photograph the tree, the full moon had come out from behind the snow clouds and shone in the second story window above the Christmas tree! (In the picture, it sort of look like he lights on the tree, but the light in the center top is actually the moon.) Just something about Christmas trees make me happy. And I was baking cookies and consuming vast quantities of dough! Heaven!
You can have your Christmas music and consumeristic nightmares...I'm really glad to not feel that craziness of running around panicking, unable to find a parking space and incurring credit card debt. And to boot, today at work we had a Christmas cookie exchange, so I came home with ten other varieties of cookies. And it's over fifty degrees outside. Yay! I hope all that stinking snow melts and I don't need a white Christmas, either. (Remind me again why we live in the northeast...

Here's what I've been working on in my (old) studio): a series of collages based on those annoying (and all to present in our modern day world ) phone menus. While stuck on one the other day, I decided I had only two options. Number One was to get really angry and rip the phone out of the wall, or Number Two, make art out of my (and everyone else's) experiences. I chose the latter.
I have made seven of these, including such high lights as, "Please hold the line; your call is very important to us". Or the classic, "Press 5 for more options". Approximately 28" x 22"; I mixed graphite and paint for the grey field areas and the rest is collage.
In the meantime, my membership in the "Losers Club" is in good standing. I applied to- and got fucking rejected from ($^#$%&!!!) three separate art shows/ venues that I thought were appropriate to me and my work. Hey! What do I know? Why I even bother is beyond me. I mean that rhetorically, of course. I do despise submitting to juried shows, as when they reject you, they never even tell you why so it's not as if you learn anything. On the other hand, most of the time it's like what the jurors had for lunch didn't agree with them when they come to your piece. You can't win. But the sheer wanton fear of never showing again compels me forward. I just submitted to another show today, at the insistence of a couple of friends. I truly must be a glutton for punishment!
But on an entertaining art related note, I am currently in a show in New Bedford at the Colo Colo Gallery. (Our good friend Don Wilkinson invited Bob and I to participate). The theme, loosely Christmas inspired, was "Naughty and Nice". An idea come to me almost at once, when out on my morning walk. I thought to make two plates of cookies, as befits the holiday season. Both plates were covered with cookies made from the same recipe of sugar cookies but once batch, while looking innocent, had chunky kosher salt on top (looks like sugar) and the other had lumps of coal. I polyureathaned both batches three times so as to make them as shiny and artificial looking as possible. Guess what happened? A so-called "art lover" (according to the gallery owner Luis Villaneuva) promptly ate one! This was despite them being labeled as "inedible" and a "work of art"! And at the opening, they had to assign a "cookie watcher" to discourage others from attempting to eat them. The least they could have done was buy my piece before consuming it. Hahahahaha.

I suppose as a very funny footnote I should mention that the person who ate my cookie reported that the flavor was good, but they were hard!

A House Divided

Here's Bob out playing with (the newly christened) Pascal the Snow Blower. I swear he was shooting that snow thirty feet into the air; quite exuberant! But it is a relief to never be in thrall again, to snow plowing extortionistas. We stocked up on basics for the upcoming storm...
Which leads to the current situation of a division among the sexes: The Boys, that would be Jules the Dog and Bob the Sculptor, look forward to the snow and inclement weather. Jules loves the snow; perfect for snow ball making and throwing and general white stuff inspired silliness. Bob will be infatuated as long as there's snow to blow with his new-fangled piece of impressive equipment. Short wok will be made of flakes and drifts!
The Girls, that would be myself (Your Humble Narrator) and Maggie the Mexican Pony, don't care for snow much at all. I don't like it because by default, it needs to be cold in order to snow and I readily confess to a lack of patience for cold weather (even as a child, I never liked the cold). I also hate driving in the stuff and feel generally inconvenienced. Maggie gets bored; I can't blame her. I try and visit with her ever hour or so, but I know she feels that her horizons have been cramped and her hooves are packed with snow balls and require frequent picking out. What has she to do besides stand in her doorway and consume vast quantities of hay? So today, The Boys are happy and The Girls not so much. I may attempt to saddle up my splendid palfrey and ride a bit so as to stave off "stable fever".
Here's what happens when artists snow blow the driveway:

Bob acquaintance with the snow blower brand new and he hadn't fine-tuned the angle of the chute that ejects the snow. We wound up with calligraphy across my studio and the driveway side of the house. I thought that was pretty funny.
At least this storm has occurred on the weekend, removing the necessity of having to go out and do anything crazy like drive to work. Bob and I will work in our studios. I am sure that I'll put up another posting this weekend as I get restless and am forced to remain house-bound as all my gloves are wet through from throwing snowballs for the insatiable dog!

In Which Bob Inexplicably Prays for Snow and Other Oddities

Okay, so that's why Bob is praying for snow... he went and bought (not entirely unexpectedly) a brand new, shiny bright orange snow blower. Of course, all we got today was freezing rain (or sleet; not sure which one) and a half inch of ice.
The snow blower wasn't just a good idea. It really was a necessity. The first winter we were here, we sort of lucked out because despite twenty million inches of never ending snow, we had a neighbor who snow blew (snow blowed?) the entire driveway and a nice guy from a near by tree farm who plowed for cheap. The next winter, we had almost no snow... except when we were having dinner guests and I actually shoveled the entire length of the driveway. (Really don't look forward to doing that again). Last winter was an entirely different story and Bob and I threw around all kinds of solutions/ideas: buy a junker truck with a plow on it, get a snow blower, get a lawn tractor with a plow, get a blow torch and melt the stuff as it fell from the sky... we considered everything. And wound up hiring an extortionist to plow. I think I related the epic struggle with this particular shyster- Mike by name- who double dipped and charged us and our next door neighbors for plowing the same driveway twice. He also tried to charge three times what his agreed upon price was after that particularly heavy snow fall. When I threatened him with a call to the Attorney General's Office, he returned our check. Anyway, Bob decided to take the law into his own hands. (See above picture: Bob's hands to the right hand side).
That's how Pascal, the newest addition to the family came to live with us. I think the snow blower was christened Pascal because the instruction manual was in English and French. That figures!

Here's another angle. And here's an accompanying rant. To those local businesses that would like local business, please remember to be pleasant and courteous to your customers who are spending hundreds and hundreds of dollars. When I went with Bob to pick the snow blower up, I was properly dismayed to be confronted by yet another grumpus man. These bearish oafs cannot seem to muster the most rudimentary manners and simply grunt and behave as if engaging in basic courtesy was an unheard of chore. Bob had warned me that these gentlemen were taciturn louts, but I was impressed at just how uncivil they were. I was charmed by a tiny toy chainsaw on the counter, available no doubt for Xmas giving, and I thought to chuckle, "Haha! A tiny chainsaw!" and I made appropriate tiny chain saw like noises. The man behind the counter grunted, "Here's the receipt; we'll bring the blower around to your truck." Maybe I'm crazy, but I'd appreciate a brief, "Thanks so much for your business" or even a phony, "Have a nice holiday." Too much to ask, I guess! I've had nicer responses while buying cheap socks.
On the other hand, I assured Bob that maybe the snow blower will do the trick and we'll have no more snow for the remainder of the winter... (Yes, I am aware the winter hasn't even started. Secretly, I think Bob is hoping for endless quantities of snow!)

Yo-de-le-odel-a-ee--oo!!

Hey! There it is! My little wood stove! Bob cleaned it all up and now we just need to get some pipe and an insert that goes through the roof. (Bob's also making a metal pad that sits on the floor so that I don't burn the studio down when putting wood into the stove and sparks and the like spew out.) The stove is cute; nice and small so that it doesn't dominate the room and interfere with traffic flow.
But here's the funny part: when our good friend Joe (Hi Joe!) introduced us to the stove, he said it was a "Yodel". I took this literally and when we got home, I googled "Yodel wood stove" and up comes some crazy yodeling pickle (who thinks this stuff up?) and links to some wood stove company named "Jotul". I think there's an error until it dawns on me that Yodel is actually spelled Jotul (with a little accent line through the o) because it's Norwegian! It's pronounced Yodel... it takes me a while.
Anyway, call it what you will, it looks great and as the weather is starting to turn colder, the idea of extra heat is compelling. By the way, the side of the stove has a really cool insignia:

Nice design. I was afraid the stove would be homely or dumpy, but it's attractive.
In the meantime, here's a piece of advice. If you're planning an art show, don't bother spending good money on cards to advertise. Most cards get chucked right into the trash can and the few unfortunate ones that survive get pressed into service as... SILENT BUTLERS!!!

Yuk, yuk, yuk.

Windows Are The Eyes of the Studios Soul (or something!)

I heard banging before we embarked on our mystery trip to obtain (ahem) art materials and what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a window! Installed! Bob actually got it in today... YAAAY!!!
It was a misty, foggy submerged kind of day, but look at that: I got a window!.
This side of the studio looks pretty complete; those little cross pieces in the corner of the window were only to hold it in place while Bob affixed it in place. We also picked up the wood stove for my studio- really cute! A Norwegian make of wood stove called "Yodel". It will fit so nicely and not take up a lot of space. Thanks again to our good friend Joe.
One again, I feel we're on the road to progress in the studio department.

Fog, With the Possibility of Windows...

This was supposed to be a picture of one of my windows, all installed in advance of rainy weather. Yesterday, Bob finished the trim around my doors, I painted the frames and then he proceeded to frame out the windows. The first time Bob put the window in the frame, I almost ran into the house to procure the camera but thought to wait until he finished. I looked up a few minutes later, and the window was removed because he needed to make an adjustment. About an hour later, I run into the house to grab the camera as the window was back in the frame. No sooner do I emerge from the side door, then I spy the window mysteriously vanishing from the hole. Turns out Bob needed to make another adjustment. And then it was too dark to photograph so you have to be content with the above photograph of the beginnings of our very graphic breakfats. Ummm, that's "breakfast" but the way I'm feeling, "breakfats" is more appropriate. And it only the beginning of the holiday consumption fest!
But I'm very excited, as we're off to Joe's factory to bring home my wood stove for the studio. That way, we can work in warmth and comfort and joy. Also, we're picking up another interesting potential art making material. I'll leave you in suspense as to what we're getting... should be an entertaining future photo!

Catching Up With the Natural World

While the weather wasn't anywhere nearly as dire as predicted, there was still a lot of rain. Our stream actually played at featuring a waterfall. Bob has been dragging old logs out of the stream and rearranging some larger stones to create a walk way bridge (in place of the metal ladder than inelegantly straddles he stream now). But the stream had other ideas this morning and bolstered by the rains of last night, there was a respectable rushing and swelling of foamy white caps as it over topped the wall. The stream has been low this year, so this was a nice change. Very dramatic!
Here's another shot, further down stream, with a much wider channel than is typical:

It's funny. I spend more time with our stream further up the road on my morning walk. Bob's studio is right near this part of the stream, so he checks on it every day and reports to me on what's up with the wonderful world of water.
Both Jules and Maggie were outside today far more than I wanted to be, I kept visiting Maggie and offering her nice dry hay in her nice dry barn, but she wanted to eat and run outside. And roll. She now resembles a large chocolate covered turtle. It will be loads of fun trying to clean her off tomorrow morning! She had leaves and twigs in her mane and tail and looked like a woodland sprite. A fine mess!

Yes, that's hay in her forelock. She enjoys pulling her hay out of the rack, tossing it in the air and wearing half of it. What a gal!
And not to be outdone, Jules moved just as I was taking his picture, so here he is: very wet and for some reason his tongue is sticking out. (Or maybe that's one of his pink and white balls that got run over by the lawn mower. Whatever.) He also smelled like the proverbial "wet dog".

Not a nice day for pictures! No one looked their best; I'm certain I didn't. But here's one more picture for good measure, referencing the previous post about what we stick in our mouths:

Doesn't look so great now, does it? Just something about raw meat... but just wait until Bob cooks it!

Round Things

Here's what I'd like to be doing: insulating my studio, especially with the wind howling and there being a dusting (still too much!) of snow on the ground. It would give the illusion of warmth... But we're waiting on window treatments (there is still plastic in the openings) as our good friend Joe has been otherwise occupied. Also, I need to locate where I want outlets and switches as electrical work needs doing before wall surfaces get covered. Bob calls me anxious and impatient; I think I'm enthusiastic and eager!
In the meantime, here are the unusual things that (some of us) stick in our mouths:

Lovely packaging! I think that's what compelled Bob to put these in the shopping basket at the Chinese grocery store. Here's what I liked, on the reverse of the package:

I know that I go out of my way to procure foodstuffs that require "oxygen absorbers" (and their accompanying warnings!). Also, the advisement regarding artificial colors is thoughtful. I carefully monitored Bob's behavior post-consumption to see if he exhibited hyperactivity, or difficulty operating machinery after he ate 1 and 7/8s of these little puppies. You will notice that I did indeed give the green blob the ol' college try. Check out the interior:

I guess the confection itself is sort of "cute" but it's guts are this weird brown. And consistency? Like a large gush-y caterpillar and it tasted like soap! Bob is certainly a more adventurous eater than myself and he finished my portion as well as his own. He even made vague comments as to how it was "interesting" and "not too bad".  ("Go right ahead", I volunteered, "There are four more and they're all yours!" How often does that happen in our house when discussing dessert? Like never!) I am certainly an advocate of trying new things, I simply don't believe that you have to finish everything on your plate. But let's be honest: it's entirely personal what to eat or not eat. Bob runs from the room when I start to eat (vast quantities) of raw cookie dough. Yum!

A Stitch in Time

Always nice to start the blog posting off with a cliche, right? This, unfortunately, is one of those tales of good intentions run amuck. Alas.
I have been delaying getting the last three stitches removed from my eye. I know, that sounds crazy  but consider that my present health insurance is so bad, so evil that I can never achieve my deductible, hence I have to pay all costs incurred. For instance, every time I went to get three or so stitches removed, I was being charged almost $300. If I had ten stitches... you can do the math.
I was hoping to be able to muddle along with the remaining three intact until January when the Obamacare/Affordable Care Act kicked in for me. The stitches were (apparently) holding up okay, but I had suffered several blood vessel ruptures and irritations, no doubt due to the remaining stitches. So on Tuesday, after seeing my eye all red again, I decided I'd better get them out. Yale said I could be seen in the afternoon.
This time, instead of my cornea surgeon removing the stitches (and she's great!) the resident comes in. He explains that Dr. Chow will see me- after he extracts the stitches. I suppose I should have politely said, "No thank you; I'll wait for the higher ups". But this is a teaching hospital and instead I complied.
First of all, I had an utter skeeve out moment when he comes straight at me with this giant pair of eye pulling pliers. I'm generally made of tougher stuff, and let's face it, I've had lie a hundred people run around in my eye, but I actually kind of shuddered. (I think they're supposed to sneak up on you sideways, past your blind spot so that you don't freak out). The resident told me to please try and hold still. I said, "Look sonny, I don't even know you and you're walking all over my eyeball with yet another sharp insturment". But I allowed him to proceed. I also chanced to add to him that despite my eye being numbed, I sorta felt like there was a little prickly sensation on my eye lid. He maintained that that was due to his "rooting around". Made sense to me although I think you can see where this is going...
I was dismissed and Bob and were in a celebratory mood as my eye was stitch free after almost three years. Except that night as we were looking at something on the Internet, I confessed to Bob that my eye was really uncomfortable and I suspected there was a bit of stitch remaining.
I woke up with my eye nicely pink, puffy and watery but went to work anyway, figuring that maybe I'd give it a day to subside. Instead, I was forced to wear sunglasses all day at work not only because my eye was so photo-sensitive and squinchy, but I looked utterly miserable. You start feeling like maybe you're wrong and just being a weeny as they've told you everything looked good. But I knew that feeling; as if my eye were nauseous. Really low-grade gross!
Needless to say, I re-called Yale and they got me in to see (yet another) doctor as mine was conveniently at a conference. They took looks- another intern, a resident, two doctors and a technician (everyone wants to see Rita's poor eyeball!) and I was vindicated: CONFIRMED! a tiny end of a stitch remained- enough to cause serious discomfort. It was successfully removed, I felt immediate relief and alls well that ends well, I guess! But it does serve to bolster the odd idea that you attempt to do something good (ie; remove those final stitches) and someone else does something that makes everything worse (leaves a bit of nylon in your eye). I know, there really is no lesson here at all, other than my eyes fine, if a bit tired from all the attention.

Historic

This is my cell phone, or more appropriately, I should refer to it as my "cellular device" as it is truly historic. I affectionately address it as my "dumb phone" when someone asks if I am interested in "apps" for my "smart phone". It may not do any of the sexy things that newer phones do, but maybe I don't want it to. I really have no interest in being constantly within reach of nonsensical calls- especially while seeking solitude or peace (like when I'm in my studio, or on my morning walk. Although I do leave my cell phone on when on my walk so that if the occasional marauding bear or pervert approaches me, I can dial 911.)
Last week at a pre-holiday cocktail party (thank you, Ted Hine), I got talking with several people about communications. I pulled out my phone- a real conversation stopper! It got ooohhed and aahhhed over as if it were a wonderfully arcane device. I demonstrated that it actually works: I can turn it on and place calls. I suppose I could even text if I could remember what my sister showed me, but it's tedious and for "c"'s and "f"'s you have to push that button three times. Why bother? The audience was also touched by it's tiny antenna- apparently also a thing of the past. And there is that pathetic bit of tape holding the panel on...
I will admit that I bought (also from my sister) a slightly newer model cell phone; it has a flip case. But have I had the time or the energy to contact the phone company to transfer my old phone account to my new phone? (I find calling utility companies exhausting and infuriating-making.) I also have the best sweetheart deal with Virgin Mobile and only pay $5 a month. I don't want that to increase!
I am sometimes mildly envious of friends that have miraculous ipads and tablets and are taking pictures and locating where they are and receiving tweets from Justin Bieber all while attempting to find and show me some ridiculous photo of their child vomiting grape juice. Technology is great, especially when employed in the service of utter silliness. I keep reminding people that in other countries, people are recording history and organizing revolutions and saving lives with smart phones. Here we photograph the next pair of shoes we hope to score.
My cell phone; I think I'll keep it.

A-Door-able

And yes! I realize that there is blue painter's tape all over the panes of glass! It took soooooooooooo long to prepare to put a finish coat on: First I had to brush off all the loose paint. Then I had to wash the panes of glass so the painter's tape would stick. And then I applied the varnish coat (so as to retain the lovely layers of patina gracing the door.) I decided to leave the tape in the photos to remind me of the labor involved.(Actually, the blue tape looks pretty jaunty.) The day had started just great, warm and sunny and I shed my sweater shirt and started preparing the windows. By the time I was starting to paint on the varnish, there was this wicked cold wind and clouds had obscured the sun. I hope the finish dries okay. But every step makes the studio feel more like "home". The door still (obviously) needs trim boards around the frame, but the hinges are on and it works! Windows are next on the agenda.

And as a total surprise, my very thoughtful sister Beatrice presented me with a lovely bouquet. I thought she was giving to Mommy, but Beatrice says, "It's for you and Bob and you 25th non-anniversary". That was really a great treat. It's a very cheerful arrangement, and still looks terrific, even a week later.

Behind Door Number One...

For those of you who weren't here for dinner the other night, here's a picture of my (small) side studio door. It's actually installed and framed and working!

Here it is from the inside, looking out. (The plastic opening to the left of the door will be my only vertical window). I'm so thrilled; every completion, no matter how big or small, gets me closer to having a studio... and a studio that I designed with windows and doors where I wanted them.
Here's a wider overall studio interior shot:

Our friend Roberta remarked the other night that the vertical striping of studs and the black tar paper made a pleasant pattern. she also observed how good the new lumber smell is! Next stage is the other, double French door- and then real windows.

Twenty Five Big Ones

Doesn't this look weird? It's our laundry that came in from the cold- and it smelled great, too. But it looks (to me anyway, but we all know where that goes.) like some sort of odd layered dessert. What's a trifle? Doesn't that have layers? I guess you had to be here... (Very old painting in the background!)
In any event, Bob and I successfully celebrated 25 years of being together. This year, our anniversary was late, late, late. (For those of you who don't remember, we celebrate when the frost kills the basil). We officially celebrated Monday, but went up to visit our friends Don and Elizabeth in their new New Bedford digs on the weekend. We spent an utterly relaxing time, looking at art, walking their dogs, eating interesting food (that we didn't have to prepare!) and not working on my studio. It was a much needed break.
Of course, I forgot to bring my camera on this road trip, and spent the entire weekend lamenting this egregious oversight. Somewhere between Columbia and Foster, Connecticut (who knew? Foster CT?) there was a rock painted like an eagle and an even better on painted like a lizard (nice and mottled and gnarly). There was also a hot dog wagon shaped like (gasp) a hot dog and a few other choice things that got away. I suppose having taken (yes, this is true) over 7000 (that's seven THOUSAND) pictures for the last auction has something to do with my resistance to dragging my camera along everywhere. Just maybe, but you should have seen the things we saw...
Including some very good art: a digital show with interesting kaleidoscope images of birds grooming their feathers and the colorful geometric patterns they generated. Some nice subtle drawings, too. Also our friend Don Wilkinson's one person show at Colo Colo Gallery- very different scanned images of small figurines made huge and heroic. A true departure for Don!
Tomorrow we continue work on the studio. I do have one door that works, which is a major achievement, thanks to Bob's persistence and determination. The double French doors are slated for installation too. That will be a big step towards civilization. Bob had the light on in my studio yesterday when I came home. Despite only plastic on the windows, it looked cheerful and made me believe that I really will get in
there soon.
Oh and here's a gratuitous photograph of the last flowers I picked this year.

And Now For Something Completely Different (and a "What Is It?")

Here's something completely different! I am inviting you to accompany me and Jules on our morning walk. (In case you think we really haven't been doing anything except work on my studio...) This is the beginning of the dirt road where Jules and I go every day. These pictures are from a week of so ago, which explains why there are more leaves on the trees.

 The same stream that runs through the bottom of our property follows the dirt road. It's very pretty in a typical New England rugged rocky, forested way. It looks similar to where I grew up in the central part of the state and I suppose the familiarity of it is a solace.

The road is gradual; a bit of hilliness but nothing too steep or taxing. I let Jules set the pace. Some days, he briskly trots along, only stopping to sniff or pee infrequently. Other days? He stops and carefully analyzes every fern and tree branch for evidence of other visitors. We've seen coyotes, bobcats, blue herons, deer and droves of wild turkeys. So far, no moose or bears (I am eternally thankful for that!)
But here's the "What is it?" About half way out on our walk last week, Jules was investigating something deposited by another animal and I'm sort of wool gathering when my eyes rest on a tree right in front of me.

Hello! What's THAT? And strapped to a tree no less! This is why I brought the camera along, so that I could document that camouflage woodland anomaly. I googled it when I returned home. Weird. But I did figure out what is is; see if you can guess.

So we continue on, and we finally emerge to where there are a few houses, before the road turns dirt and empty again. While this isn't a great picture, it's such a pretty spot. There's a really old red mill (turned into a house) and several rough bridges and a dam with the above mill pond. The mist rises off of it in the morning and reflects all the autumn leaves. Spectacular.

Again, not a stellar photo but the leaves on the pond almost looked solid, as if you could walk on the water. That mossy ridge to the right is stonework at the top of the dam and where the water spills over. Jules and I are really lucky to have such a nice walk!

Okay: the odd box is a hunting camera set up by someone (probably with a gun) to monitor animal traffic in the area. That's creepy on so many levels. I mean, first of all, it's an unfair advantage for the hunter to know the comings and goings of the woodland denizens. Secondly, it's creepy that I am on their camera (as well as other woods walkers that I know), especially the first time I saw it when I pushed my face right up to it and got a great big look at it. They also have images of me taking pictures of it. Plain and simple, I think it's icky that this thing is out in the nice peaceful woods, anyway. Can't we get away from technology anywhere? But here it is a week later and it's gone. Either set up in another location or at home where "they" can watch all us animals on their computer.

More Fun With Food- And Progress!

Looks like another dinner that talks back to Bob and me! Incredibly, that was salmon and potatoes (and very good!) This is what happens to artists after slaving away endlessly at studio building. (A variation on "empire building").
But wait: we actually played hooky the other day and took a much needed trip up to MassMoca. Nice weather, great art experience (except excuse my for mentioning maybe like 75 too many Sol LeWitt drawings? I mean, I like Sol LeWitt every bit as much as the next artist, but hell! It started to be sort of silly after a while. I've already seen a million LeWitts at DiaBeacon...) Anyway, we had a much needed break and then back to reality.

This is a better picture than the other day. The walls are all up and painted and there are fewer things interfering with seeing the overall effect of my studio. Doors and windows are slated to be installed this week. Can we stand the excitement?
Shockingly enough, I am on blog post number 301. I was so surprised to see that figure crop up on my "blogger dashboard". We have been here almost three full years- that's also shocking in its own way! Bob and I have really managed to accomplish so many of the things we fantasized about. That is including the above project. I know there are many family members and friends out there who never thought we'd get this far on my studio. I'm pretty amazed, too! Much of the credit must go to our good friend Joe who us a really talented carpenter, along with being a great photographer. He's guided us through complicated patches and just plain old showed up to work. God knows, he's probably had better things to do, then bang more nails.

This is one of my inside corners. I was originally having a window installed on this wall, too but decided I needed the wall for working on more urgently. And I'm glad; there's already a surfeit of light being admitted through windows and the doors. And there's the requisite evergreen on the rafter to propitiate the gods of studio construction. The scratchy area of paint is where the rafters used to go. I'm glad for the extra ceiling height! And it is sort of funny that I have windows back into the house. This particular window will be the door between my studio and what will be my storage room. That will be a big day, when we cut through and make a hole between the new and the old!

Exterior Grade Ecstacy

Quite a step forward! Today we sheathed about two thirds of the exterior of my studio. It made such a difference in terms of defining space and making Bob and Joe and myself feel like we're actually getting somewhere with this whole crazy studio thing.
First step is to cover the exterior walls in tar paper. Yes, some people use TyVek and other name brand "house wraps" but let's face it: they are plastic, expensive and tar paper has been in use for years. Additionally, as with many, many other materials, we have loads of it that came with the house. Like rolls and rolls. So it's essentially free. (We haven't had to buy nails, tools, insulation... all kinds of stuff!)
Then we nail on the siding.

I painted with primer as Joe and Bob nailed and measured and leveled. (The black hole is one of my windows. The windows get installed after the sheathing is done.) It was helpful to find out that the grey color our house is painted is essentially a very simple grey to match. We had the primer tinted so that it blends right in with our siding. We will paint the studio with regular house paint later on. Boy, does raw wood soak up the primer! We went through a whole gallon on just this side (and a couple of sheets on the garden side of my studio). Another one of those material underestimations that are hard to avoid! I'm picking up an additional gallon of paint tomorrow after work. Doesn't the paint job look great? Well, I did major in painting at Bennington so I guess my credentials speak for themselves.

Hey! Those ladders are getting themselves in every picture! Two things about this photo: One is how truly great the studio makes the entire house look. It sets up this dramatic and dynamic cascade of angles. I couldn't be happier. Our house looks very modern and geometric. Of course, being artists probably helped; something about raising the roof a few feet made the proportions just right. The other funny thing about this picture is that the perspective from which I took it (and maybe the back end of the truck) skewed the house and makes it all look tiny. I wouldn't have expected that. And it didn't feel tiny when I was painting it.
We were lucky to have exceptionally nice weather, though, warmish and sunny. This time of year could bring anything. Remember snow in October two years ago? Yeesh. Who wants to think of that?!?!!?
On a really nice note, our neighbor Meagan (who helped raise the second and third walls just a week ago) brought Bob and I an apple crisp that she had baked. She said she saw how hard we were working and felt we needed a little treat. We are really fortunate to have such nice neighbors!!

Roofin' in the Rain

Bob and Joe valiantly climbed ladders and got the plywood on my studio roof last Sunday in the rain. It was warm so not as miserable a task as if cold weather had accompanied the steady mist, but not nice weather at all! But they got the job done and now it needs the ice and water shield roofing applied. Give us a warm, sunny day, please.
The studio looks more and more like a real space. We toasted the heroics of the roofing crew with a glass of wine- under cover of the freshly sheathed rafters. Never mind that over night it pored and there was three inches of water in my studio Monday morning. Bob and I swept and vacuumed and it dried just fine.
This what I made for dinner for the roofing crew:

Yes, it's a meatloaf shaped (sort of) like a house. I assumed if I made it shaped like my studio, it would resemble a mistake. Anyway, the roof is completed as yesterday, Joe returned and under failing light, he and Bob once again scaled to the heights and laid down the ice and water shield. Go ahead and rain!

Today Bob and I are getting a load of fire wood.  Oh boy! More physical labor! Then we're stopping at Home Depot to price siding and get a gallon of paint to match the house. Progress is with us. The end of the exterior phase of studio construction is approaching. It's beginning to seem a reality that someday I will actually work in that space. We are taking a break from work on the studio after we get the siding up. Heaven help us! will we know how to do anything besides work?!!