An Empty Driveway! (sort of)

You will recall we had not one, but two dead vehicles in the driveway. (Don't get me going on the also deceased Honda Civic, sitting at a garage in Litchfield; still can't find the title and am seeking a replacement...) Bob made arrangements and early this morning:

This giant truck showed up. A brief exchange of titles and checks ensued, and the process began. Needless to say, the tow guy showed up when we had just sat down to warm banana nut muffins. But look at the excitement! Worth a cold muffin any day!

Up goes Mommy's dead Subaru!

I love processes like this! And Bob and I are wondering, "Just HOW is he going to take the truck too??!" I guess this is why they don't send us to pick up cars... I would have driven all the way back and- never mind.

And then:

He backs up and of course! He's going to tow the truck!

There they go!

Goodbye F 150! Goodbye Subaru! And we now have a(relatively) empty driveway. Temporarily, just the newer F 150 until the new(er) Subaru arrives, thanks to very generous friends and the trade of an artist's book. (More on that tale in another blog post).And tomorrow, the Department of Motor Vehicles, all over again. Didn't we just go through this??!!??

I am Sick, Therefore I Ramble

This is a piece that I'm working on but I'm further along with it than when I shot this picture (it's pinned, not sewn in the picture.) I like the potential and the potential open endedness of "As If". I also admire the hint of a threat in"...as if". But you can read it however you like. (At present, I think I'm inclined to act as if I'm not sick.)This and the crazy book project about collectors has been keeping my fingers busy.
But something is going on cosmically. Like I developed a cold (and am therefore not really smart right now), and I don't get colds too often. I successfully fought it off all week, but had been feeling run down and tired but was unable to sleep well. And then there's stress... did someone say stress?
But in addition to my cold (which is a minor inconvenience, like we were supposed to be hosting dinner guests), let's face it: Bob and I are down to one car again, my horses feet have something going on (as she's been abscess prone), Mommy went back into Hospice care, fall is here and the weather is getting colder and the days shorter. Yech.

On the other hand, the fall color can be spectacular- or at least peculiar. Check out the pinkish cast to the fall color of the oak leaf hydrangeas. Although I didn't think this year's color was especially great because of the summer drought. And the sudden cold snap made for a quick shedding of foliage...
See? Told you I was rambling... But is this better than the fact that I was contemplating ranting? Ranting about those pesky republicans? Oooooooooooooh. They're so weird.
Most recently, I want to address how they pilloried Hillary Clinton and grilled her for 11 hours of fruitless Benghazi testimony- and this from the party that's always railing about "wasting tax payers money"? Really? Isn't this the biggest waste possible? Especially after one of these clowns was asked if they'd learned anything new. He responded as how Hillary Clinton's statements and answers were consistent with the last time they'd questioned her. I wonder why... Maybe because she is telling the truth and her story IS consistent. At least Hillary Clinton sounded utterly stable, calm and reasonable- and presidential!- in the face of so much political triviality. That fool Kevin McCarthy (who pursued the Speaker's position) let loose a big wet one when he claimed how Benghazi had hurt Hillary Clinton's presidential bid. Boy, did that back fire! Where is he now?
Of course that leads back to republicans and that weasel Paul Ryan as Speaker of the House?!! I'm sick! I can't breath! Get me to bed!

A Trip-ney to the (Nu) Whitney

This is a screen shot of new Whitney Museum of American Art. You may well remember that I do not take my camera anywhere on trips; why bother? So many other people take better photos! I'd rather enjoy my day...
Anyway, Bob and I and our good friend (and artist and art dealer) Ellen piled into her Prius and hit the streets of Chelsea (after surviving traffic jams coming and going), secured parking and walked on the High Line for a few blocks- always a treat! until we ran smack into the new Whitney Museum. Somehow, it had looked more impressive (from the outside) while under construction, but the above shot- with the aid of sexy evening lighting- looks pretty smart. We were able to skip the line which snaked around the block, as Ellen is a member, but to our chagrin, no guests were allowed on her pass, so we ponied up $44 for Bob and me. Kinda steep and I was already feeling a bit peeved...
But we proceeded into the cavernous main hall to take an elevator up to look at art. In my humble estimation, the main lobby looked like an airport terminal and there was not a painting or sculpture to be seen. And the elevators either weren't working or were being used for some other purpose, as there were throngs of people sort of standing around, staring at the closed doors. We opted for the stairs.
These particular stairs led us up three flights and then sort of landed us in another lobby. There were uncomfortable looking people holding some sort of meeting in a glass partitioned office space and it's a good thing they were on view, as there was still no art to be seen. And this is three stories up. Or options here were stand in front of the still seemingly implacable elevator doors (more throngs) or climb more stairs. Deciding that the cardiovascular benefits of climbing further stairs was a fine idea, we set out trying to find the stairs. It became apparent that the design of this new museum left a lot to be desired. The floor plan is not at all intuitive, and they seemed to like to hide the stairways. There were many cul-de-sac office hallways and a few dead ends before we located the stairs. And climb we did, on stairs that hardly seemed intended for use by paying customers, as they were sketchily painted and sort of service-entrance underwhelming. (I get the fact that the entire architectural message here screamed "Industrial!")
When we finally ascended to floor seven or eight, we realized that our timing was poor as the major opening show was closed and the next block buster was being installed. We had paid full entrance to see mostly permanent collection; which is fine as they have a swell collection, but we couldn't help but feel a tad gypped. (Yes, I think that's now a politically incorrect term... sorry!) There was a good show of an African American painter, Archibald Motley, (great name) who painted jazz age crowded pictures. We enjoyed the decks that cantilever out from the building and the views of lower and mid-town Manhattan were truly stunning (and on a picture perfect nary a cloud blue sky sort of day) but Ellen pointed out that she had wanted to walk further around the building on the outside, and the decks sort of dead-ended. The entire floor plan seemed to give art a back seat to office space and hallways and "staff only" signs. The circular revolving doors were damned heavy, too! A helpful security guard set one spinning for us...
I think I'm trying to reinforce that the impression of the actual building wasn't optimal. The three of us were a bit disappointed; you do want to be wowed for the initial visit to a major museum and so many people had raved. I felt cheated at having shelled out $44 and not been warned that several major gallery sections were closed for install. We did enjoy an interesting meal at the cafe on the top floor: a tripod of fish croquettes in a bean salad and really nice sauce. Best part of the trip! And lots of art world chatter and fine company! But I hate to say that we won't be paying a repeat visit any time soon.

Bureacratic Joy and Sculpture Shows All In One

Yup! The truck's legal as we paid a most inspiring visit to the Department of Motor Vehicles on Wednesday. It wasn't as awful as we'd been told: I heard tell of four hour waits and I always dread the document forgotten at home hell. Don't get me wrong- as we approached the DMV, we could see (despite torrential downpouring) cars circling like so many metallic sharks as there were simply not enough parking spaces to be had. I exited the car, telling Bob optimistically to park it where and when he could and I ran for the door. Only to find that the line inside snaked all the way out to the entry way and the next poor suckers to join us on line were actually waiting outside. We inched forward where a woman came along and issued numbers- mine was D694. I thought, "My life is over. I will be here for the next ten years. I'll never see Bob or my dog or pony ever again". I almost left as I am somewhat claustrophobic and not necessarily the biggest fan of masses of humanity compressed check by jowl. But I figured we'd just have to do this all over again...
About an hour later, I was joined by Bob. We managed to find a seat and waited and waited and waited. I think it was myself who had suggested that we wouldn't need those magazines or books we had debated bringing. Thank God Bob and I always have things to talk about-
Like his wonderful show at ColoColo Gallery. The show looks amazing as it is a large high-ceilinged space with an interesting arrangement of three semi-rooms off of the main gallery, allowing for large spaces and more intimate ones. The woman who Bob is showing with had pleasing and colorful abstract paintings that complemented Bob's austere palette perfectly. Bob has received a really great review in a New Bedford newspaper and hopefully this will draw in masses of the art viewing masses. (Who ever they are. I shall explore my theory of who consumes art in another posting...) So all in all a true triumph!

(Autumn color outside our office window. Red truck, golden yellow foliage. Fall is here!) And as you can tell from the fact that I am posting this blog entry, our number was finally called, we successfully registered the truck and are back home. The Bernie Sanders sticker has been affixed to a clean bumper and we're ready for the next art event. Bring it on!