The Three Pillows of Wisdom

You may well remember my "Small Golden Pillow of the Resistance". It languished at Open Studios, despite my pricing it attractively. Several months after Open Studios, an astute collector (and friend- Hello Antony!) inquired as to whether it was still available. He was smart enough to snatch it up.
Then he approached me with the tantalizing question as to whether I ever do commissions. Of course I do! So he requested that I do two more pillows... one that reads "Bite Me".

And one that reads "Eat Me". As you see in the photos, "Bite Me" is complete and really a lovely thing to behold. "Eat Me" is still in process... I worked really carefully and consciously to make all the colors harmonize and to make the "fonts" that the words are written in different, yet complimentary. I think I was successful.

I actually wanted to photograph this and post it here to see if "Eat Me" read as clearly, or whether it requires tweaking and clarification. It looks pretty good although it's harder to see that the back ground fabric (under the gold) is really a very pale pink and it will be cut jaggedly to echo the star burst pattern. And then it's being mounted on a medium brown (kind of (milk) chocolate-y) pillow. But Bob just looked at it- unprovoked- and exclaimed that it was perfectly easy to read. That made me feel more confident, although I am still debating a narrow border of dark brown (bitter-sweet chocolate) beads around the interior of "Eat Me". Maybe not; maybe it's just gilding the lily!
I am very happy with how they're turning out. Sometimes someone else's idea is a good jumping off point. I have just completed 12 large scale pieces for my show in NYC and these pillows are a cosy way to sidle back into new studio preoccupations.

How Boring! The Weather

A mysterious morning! Looking back at the house on a murky morning.... maybe this picture is from even longer ago than I think. Possibly from the fall? I couldn't find a foggy picture, even though we've experienced several very foggy mornings.

And Sunday morning... (at least this picture is recent!) when we had that sudden and ridiculous snowfall. And then today it was almost 80 degrees outside. And tomorrow is going to rain/snow/sleet and be 32. Could the weather please make up it's mind?!?
No wonder everyone got sick this winter. It's hard to acclimate and even know how to dress appropriately. I shed all along my walk this morning and the poor horse that I was supposed to ride today was sweating under minor exertion because she's still wearing her winter coat. Crazy.
I think this is a sort of place-holder blog. I'm still not entirely recovered from my episode of the flu and I haven't felt super-creative. Also, I think I'm a bit exhausted due to my show in NYC. Big energy expenditures when there's little reserve!
Bear with me. Maybe I'll unearth another silly picture or two...

See? That's Bob modeling the (yes!) waders that a friend bequeathed to him. The do fit perfectly and I guess he can wear them when he dredges the pond or takes up eel fishing. Maybe the eels will be running next week if the weather holds.

Now Who's the Snowflake?

For those of you who were unable to attend the NYC art world event of the season, here's a few highlights. (Yes, they are screen shots from a few friends albums on Facebook- thank you Roberta, Phillip and Yolanda!) because I/we were too busy schmoozing and chatting up the room to take pictures (or even oversee the taking of pictures). It was packed with admiring friends and art fans and I was quite happy. Many good friends traveled from the wilds of Connecticut; I am astonished at their love and support!

And here are people that I DON"T KNOW, looking at (and gesturing to) my art work. Yowzah! That's great! I received a lot of positive feedback and the show did look really good so I couldn't be happier.*
The show went on, despite the chills/spill/thrills necessary to have an already sick artist's stomach in her mouth. You all probably heard about how my work wasn't picked up and delivered to NYC when it was scheduled.... someone's father (thanks Weston!) had to make that trip. And then a piece of lace- instrumental to the completion of "Complicit"- was unloaded at the wrong address (thanks again fro resolving that issue, Weston)... Yes, artist's hearts are often in cardiac arrest, wondering if all the details were in place- or whether the Devil is indeed alive and well and attending to them!
And then, of course, there is the truly funny-or pathetic- story of how the delivery gentleman (who IS after all, a conservative, gun tottin' rethuglican) REFUSED to pick up the three pieces from the gallery that we weren't hanging... this despite the fact that he was stopping at the gallery to drop off several paintings and had the room in his truck. Hahahahaa! tender sensibilities, indeed! Now who's the snowflake? The things you learn.
And we arrived home at midnight, fed the Dog and Pony Show ( we have a dog walker who comes to minister to Robin's needs) and fell into bed. And woke up at the crack of dawn to go back in to sit the show. It was pretty slow until the last hour or so, when some friends from New Haven showed up and -heavens!- more strangers poured into the gallery and took pictures, were impressed, asked all the right questions etc. That made the day fun and worthwhile.
On the way back to the subway, I was exultant and Bob and I were chatting away merrily about the next move when BOOM! I hit some sort of slippery spot and crashed to the pavement. Naturally, I had just removed my gloves, so my left hand absorbed the fall- along with my left upper thigh and hip. That hurt! And so much for ol' NYC being nice to artists... (it's not!)

Evidence, need I say more?
So the show looks good, my bruises will fade, and Bob and I are hauling into NYC every Saturday to be there for the requisite "meeting and greeting" and "gripping and grinning". Stop by if you're in the neighborhood.

*Well, I would have liked to have sold every piece... or even one (but there's still time...)

In Which I Take Ill

This is my world right now. I am hopelessly sick with some exotic (probably flu!) malaise. And, yes, like almost everyone else who has fallen victim to this evil plague, I got a flu shot. (Well, they are admitting that it was only 30% effective...)
I have been stumbling from the bed to the bathroom and I even once ventured downstairs. That was a big mistake. Yesterday morning, I actually didn't feel too bad initially and thought to accompany Robin on her morning ablutions. By the time I had staggered out to the fence in the dark and cold, I was wondering if I'd have the strength to make it back indoors before Bob found me- several hours later- blue, frozen and very much a goner. Being made of doughty stuff, I shuffled to the door and made it inside, somehow fed Robin and yes! I swear! I started to see stars! I sat down on the bottom step as the world began to spin and go black. This was not good. Bob happened to come downstairs at just this moment and if I could have seen his face as the world performed a tilt-a-whirl inversion act, I am sure he would have registered alarm. (He said he did; I believe him).
I made it to the bathroom and got very ill.  And back to bed with me!

Yes, that's the stack of books and magazines that would be great to read if I could concentrate for more than three words at a time. I did succeed in paging through a nursery catalog and detect pretty colored plants. Or something. Maybe it was a medical supply catalog: they all look the same to me right now!
The worst part of this sudden descent into hell is that I was supposed to go with Bob to a Horticultural Symposium in Hartford today. He sells his metal work at these affairs and we get to listen to plant geeks lecture about garden design and pollinators and it's a healthy and delightful antidote to all that is nasty and vile in this country. There was-unfortunately- no question as to my attendance. I hope he makes money and has a good time.

Meanwhile Nurse Ratchett- I mean Robin- thinks I'm fooling about being sick and is whining and pawing me (to make sure I'm still alive) and insisting that I get up and have fun dammit! She has settled down some what, but I'm sure that for a young, healthy and rambunctious dog, this is another kind of hell. She's been trying to entertain me by throwing (variously) her Kong and her beefhide chews over the bed and then diving to retrieve them. Nice try!
The only good thing about this episode is that I most certainly will be well for my opeing in NYC next weekend. I have already threatened to make a grand entrance ala Frieda Kahlo on a stretcher in an ambulance. (True story). Stranger things have happened!

*For anyone interested, my symptoms are as follows: chills, alternately dry wracking cough, phlegmy, sticky cough, watery eyes, dizziness, soreness like I am being beaten by a baseball bat (alternating with being beaten by a ping pong paddle), aches, headaches... and then my face hurt. This sucks!