Feet First

I refuse to discuss weather (more snow anyone?) or art (make that the "art world") so I guess that reduces the range of discourse to socks. But really? On the subject of socks, I think I made out like a bandit when I scored the above socks for only $2 (on total markdown) in the boys section of a department store. Forget women's socks! Made of nasty thin acrylic that offers no warmth or cushioning and they wear out very fast. Even so-called boot socks tend towards the skimpy... if you can even find them.
And look at THESE:

Who designs these things? Ankle shark attack socks... how cool is that? Jules is, of course, getting his big hoof into the shot as if to say, "I don't need to worry about socks!" At least my toes are happy.
I think I'm coming down with a cold so I'm sort of stupid and have a mildly sore throat. That's what I get for having to work at the auction and deal with rude, whiny people instead of playing in my studio! I'm run down and taking pictures of my sock collection! How pathetic is that?
Well, having woke up and realizing that there is three inches of new snow has not done much to improve my state of mind. I want to start gardening, damn it. Stuck inside and sick of it!

The above shot of Hell is exactly what my throat feels like. I don't often fall ill but recently I think I've been suffering from stress on top of a few sleepless nights and now I'm fighting off a cold.
I am actually home from work, too, as I correctly figured that my co-workers would not appreciate my sharing germs and malaise. I rarely take sick days, but I am hoping that lying around the house dozing and blogging will knock out whatever small viral invader I am currently entertaining.
And speaking of entertaining, our good friends Don and Elizabeth visited from Massachusetts this weekend. They hadn't been down together in quite a while and we had a good time, talking art and politics and movies and mob connections. (Not personal mob ties; tangential ones!) I am hoping they didn't personally deliver- or leave with!- my illness. I am thinking I picked this little bugger up from (another) visit to the Yale Art Galleries. Bob and Don and Elizabeth and I were so tired from staying up late talking and imbibing adult beverages that we yawned and lurched from one thoughtfully provided bench to another. It was a congenial way to spend the day: an eyeful of art and nothing to do but look.

This may look like a shot of our dirty carpeted stairs, but to my sick eyes, it was a pleasing zigzag abstracted  shape. A minute before I impelled myself up those stairs to get my camera to document this, the light had been more dramatic, with a sharp golden wiggle coursing along the edge of the zigzag. Wasn't there when I came back, but hey! indulge a suffering artist. My neck hurts, too.

Then I saw this. Maybe I'm hallucinating. See if you can figure out what this is. In the meantime, I think I'll go back to bed.