A Wicked Cold Trip and Quite a Few Holidays

Yeah, it looks all magical but don't let that fool you!  I'm just trying to find a way to enjoy the endless white blobs tumbling from the sky...
And speaking of fools, guess who was crazy enough to brave the dangerous low temperatures and outlandishly high winds to drive to New York state and take a train into New York City on Sunday? Artists will do anything to open their mouths in public and yap about their work! I was a-feared that Bob (mostly the sensible one) would say "Ix-Nay" to our plans to go to NYC, but he was game and I adore him for so supportive. We (obviously) made it there and back so there must be some truth to the rumor that God protects fools, drunk and artists.
Lookee here:

This wasn't even the worst! It was 8 below one morning but my camera battery went dead and I couldn't find the extra battery and charger (plugged into the bedroom wall, behind a painting). I debated drawing a picture of the negative reading, but thought no one would believe it- sort of an "artist's rendering". But there you have it! Evidence! (as if we needed any).
The gallery talk was great. I had asked Ellen (artist/friend/gallerist) to not ask me to speak first, so I could gauge what the other artists said and how they said it. I needn't have worried as we went alphabetically (I'm always last) and I quickly realized that we were all on the same page and we all sounded very erudite and like we knew what we were doing. It was fun and well worth risking frostbite and death through exposure. (Don't ask about the walk back from the train to the truck...)

Maybe because the day before was Valentine's Day and Bob and I were warm and fueled by love and delicious food, but it was a really great weekend. We then celebrated Mardi Gras/ Fat Tuesday a day early as more awful weather was planned for Tuesday. It didn't really happen but is any one out there sorry we didn't get another foot of snow?

Not Going Any Where- Fast or Otherwise

How's that for a metaphor for our lives at present? A snowed in door! And the drift of snow is not the only impediment! That icicle to the left is ominous. I'm not going to further regale my audience with further woes of winter's tales... except that I'm scheduled to participate in an artist's talk on Sunday at Odetta Gallery in Brooklyn and it's supposed to be like 4 degrees with 70 mile an hour winds and maybe (aaaarrrrggggh!) more snow!!
But we'll take one day at a time... be all Zen. Maybe the gods will smile and will send us blue skies and happier trails. We can only hope!
But Bob, thinking ahead as tomorrow is supposed to bring us more.... flowers! Saturday is bringing us flowers! Saturday is Valentine's Day, after all.

Look at that lovely bouquet! I'm so happy! Beautiful, colorful, amazing flowers. Temporarily, my winter dreads have been driven away. For the next 24  hours, I promise to not innumerate the various and many things that my gloves stuck to this morning while delivering Maggie her morning water: the gate, the barn door, the stall bucket handle, the outside bucket (pulling the glove right off my hand), the outside door handle- and on and on. I literally froze to everything. But banish that thought. Tonight through tomorrow, I promise to vacation in my mind. But come Sunday, I'll be crazy mad if the weather doesn't cooperate. How long can this last?!?!?!

Grumble Grumble Grumble

For Christmas, I bought Bob a butterfly chair and along with it (as it had been an auction lot) was this painting. Sort of a bonus and I found it rather charming. Fortunately, Bob liked it too, and even thought it looked a lot like our backyard, with the deck and potted plant and the view through our spindly pine and spruce trees. It also looks a lot like a place I'd rather be than stuck here in the friggin' Winter Wonderland!
I know I have lots of company in the hating of this eternal winter so I'm going to complain for a paragraph or two. A community vent! That' all anyone is talking about- at the gas station, the post office, the checkout at the grocery store. And we're supposed to have three straight days of the stuff. Enough already!
How about one of those famous bulleted lists?

• I detest the combo platter of too much snow AND really frigid temperature. Please: one or the other would be sufficient.
• I hate the fact that I have to keep schlepping buckets of water to my poor horse Maggie who thinks she's been exiled to Siberia. (She has; just don't let her in on that). My arms have been permanently stretched. I look like a gorilla.
• My morning walks- the only real chance to get exercise- is shorter as the dirt road is covered in twelve inches of slippery snow (ice conveniently hidden underneath) and it's so damned cold that no matter what I wear, my nose is exposed and freezes. I had icicles on my eye lashes for god's sake!
• Do you really feel creative when all those "creative juices" are barely flowing and need antifreeze? Besides, how inspiring is endless white and frostbitten fingers? 
• People- including friends- are crabby and depressed thanks to evil weather. Who can blame them? Except we're all in this together and we'd better be nice!
• I used to like Ground Hog's Day. And then it became this stupid stunt where nasty politicians pick up and drop defenseless animals... and kill them! (It happened). Who can blame on of the ground hogs for biting its handler? Leave the furry little things alone! No wonder they predict more winter. They hate us.
• I don't particularly like the fact that it takes me ten minutes to get dressed appropriately to go outside. Too many layers and by the time you're dressed you don't really feel like going outside anyway.
• Then you come back in and create piles and piles of wet clothes. Every time you go out, you produce gloves, sock, pants, hats, scarves and long under wear that require drying. I had to buy more gloves and socks as nothing dried quickly enough for donning for the next foray into the Arctic. And of course we all leave wet trails all over the house. Floors a mess...
• I'm getting fatter by the minute. Blame the lack of exercise (see above) and way too much comfort food. Hell, we need comforting but I can't stop eating. There's not much else to do.
• I haven't even been a regular blog poster because the weather has been too awful. This is the result; a boring diatribe about the weather.
• At least we've been sleeping well. But I attribute that to a desire to permanently hibernate. Wake us up when it's over.
• Are we done whining yet? Any one want to add anything? People driving like assholes despite lousy road conditions? Huge piles of snow at the ends of driveways and secondary roads that make pulling out into traffic seriously hazardous? The fact that I looked ahead to next weeks weather and it's no better? In fact it's even colder??? Stop!!!!!!

Just Say ... NO

This week's sermon is about the power of a simple, single word. The word is "No". It's amazing how useful and powerful that short two letter word can be.
I have a history of being a bit of a push over. In fact, I can't even begin to tell you how many times I've been asked as an artist to do something or donate something. Occasionally, it's for a very good cause and is sort of fun, to boot, but let's be real, most of the time you feel exploited. A case in point (without mentioning any names) is an art organization in a local city that had the audacity to send out a call for artwork submissions for their annual fundraiser. This very same art organization has refused and rejected me and many of my very talented friends too many times to count. But somehow, they felt comfortable soliciting art works and in the same breath, announcing how lucky you as an artist would be to pay an additional $50 for the privilege of attending and schmoozing at their event. Do I have this straight? They want freebie art donations and money so that you can attend and meet the people who just might buy your piece? Too creepy. I think I said "NO" to that request in several hundred ways...
But there are loads of things that I'd love to do- shows I'd like to submit to but I'd have to create a whole new work for... where do you find the time?
I frequently have the following conversation with artist friends: not only do we need to make the artwork, but we need to hold at least one job to support ourselves and our art habit and then we need to promote our work. Oh,. and we need to do all those other responsibilities that require time, attention and money like go to motor vehicles and register the car, wash the bathroom floor, shop for dog and pony food. The list goes on and on.
This past week, I owned up to the fact that between having made work for two entirely different but important shows, going to work (where we're always behind), running into New York/New Haven dodging snow storms to be present for important events and all those other family/friend related obligations, I am really tired and need to get back into my studio and start some of the ideas percolating through my brain. I said "No" to two offers that ordinarily I may well have agreed to. And I felt good. I felt happy and in control of my own time.
It also spurred me to start a whole new batch of work, loosely structured around the word "NO". The work above is only the beginning. And who knows? If I say "No" frequently enough, maybe i'll get to the point where saying "Yes" feels good again!

And Now For Something Completely Different... The Weather

This is a picture from that first brush with REAL winter weather.  Bob snow-blew up a storm (haha) on Saturday, clearing a swath wide enough for a HumVee to drive through. I think he may have mentioned it would be handy when this weather episode landed. And here it is! (No, those are not dog turds on the snow pile above. Just a few stray late blowing leaves).
Outside, it's what everyone is expecting and predicting: windy cold, snowy and just starting to accumulate. Perfect for staying indoors (if only Jules would let me- he loves this stuff.) and taking over exposed yellow pictures of the lovely blooming bulbs presented by friends.

Looks sort of Eastern European, doesn't it? We haven't gotten around to making a new curtain cover. Hell, I'm just trying to get back into my studio and make some more art. It's good to be working at a normal pace (whatever that is!) without attempting to finish pieces by a particular date or with a specific theme in mind. Although, I am still dwelling on images of financial calamity and fiscal doom. Plenty of room for exploration there! And I know the subject all too well. Hahahaha.
Bob and I went into Brooklyn yesterday, to meet up with a photographer and have my work documented. I also think it was important for me to see that my work is still hanging on the walls of Odetta Gallery and I didn't hallucinate the entire event. Yes, my work was still there and I even got to talk to some gallery goers and give them some insight into my process. (There are actually pockets of real people who go out and look at art. No kidding!) And despite what seemed like tremendous obstacles- yes, even in the controlled and rarefied environment of a gallery!- we got the pictures done. First it was the sunlight pouring into the gallery and creating incredibly uneven shadows, then it was one piece hung in a tight hallway, where it looks great, but was very difficult to get back far enough to shoot. But photographer Max Yawney did a splendid and meticulous job, adjusting and tweaking and spending all afternoon... He really did my work right. Here's a sample.

Even as a small image, it looks great! Of course, I can't share the squeaky toy sewn into the tip, but hey! At least you get the idea.

A (Miss) Peggy Lee Moment

Boy, did this screen capture come out pink and blue! There I am in all my splendor, just before the doors opened for "Pay to Play" at Odetta Gallery in Brooklyn. That's Ellen Hackl Fagan, artist/curator/gallerist (a woman of many hats!!) observing my shenanigans. Incidentally, there is a a squeaky toy sewn into the tip of my large "member" and administering a good squeeze is definitely encouraged!
Someday when I suffer from a surfeit of free time (like never) I will recount at length all of the chills/spills and thrills accompanying the setting up and opening. Suffice it to say that the opening was a premier event: lots of people (some friends, some new acquaintances, some evil), lots of Instagram moments, lots of paparazzi (thank you Eileen! for the above photo). I'm re-exhausted just thinking about it all.
However, I will partially recall one particularly salient episode. It was after eight (the ostensible closing time of the opening) and people kept drifting in. Several of us had an eye widening realization when a VERY IMPORTANT ART CRITIC COUPLE appeared. I suffer no illusions that they were there for me (and I am aware (again) of how fortunate I am to be showing with three gentlemen who are truly well connected.) but there they were, none the less. I was introduced and vague things were said, the royalty in question obviously happy that their royalty was being duly respected. I drifted off, knowing that they were deep in mutual nuzzle with the powerful, connected artists.
But a few minutes later, the male member of the POWERFUL ART CRITIC COUPLE was actually standing in front of and actually looking at, one of my pieces. I allowed him time to mosey down the long wall on which three of my works were hung, and then I approached him. Before I could even hazard a choice word or two (such as, "Come here often?" or "For a couple a thousand, I could send you home with one of these beauties!") he said (preemptively), "Love the work, but lose the specific reference words." I was like, "Huh?" He sneers, "Yeah, like "Sequestration". No one knows what that is, and no one cares". So I proceed to explain that I see part of my mission as an attentive artist to immortalize these phrases that pass through our news cycles and our everyday language and !poof! they're gone. He says, "Doesn't matter. no one cares." I started to respond but he moved off, But he dismissively tossed a "But what do I know?" over his shoulder. I guess I was supposed to melt into the floor and think, "But he MUST know! He's a very POWERFUL ART CRITIC!" I just thought, what a jerk! He was so cynical and so jaded...
But this is also a good instance of how Ellen is truly doing things right: she got the right artists in the right space at the right time. The POWERFUL ART CRITIC COUPLE did attend and did make odd critical noises- very impressive for a gallery that is only six months old!
I confess that after dining late and catching the next to last train home and walking a good ten minutes in a freezing sub-zero head wind and  scraping wind shields and getting tucked into bed at 2:00 am, it was exhausting but exhilarating.
It was Saturday afternoon, after too many video games and a bit of time to reflect that I sank into my Peggy Lee Moment, where I had to wonder, "Is that all there is?" In an effort to ward off the resulting post-opening depression that sneaks up and bottoms you out, I began that mad house cleaning that I have threatened for so long. I vacuumed and hung up jackets and put away the last of the Christmas tchotckes.
Today we venture back to NYC to have my work photographed. This will stave off the residual cobwebs of cosmic indifference. And actually? Having a show at a swell gallery in an trendy neck of Brooklyn is not a shabby way to start the New Year!

In Preparation

There I am, hard at work helping with a color check while my good friend (and fabulous photographer!) Carl Weese documents my equally fabulous piece, "Wage Slave". Some day I will relate the story of how my tour de force piece "Wage Slave" didn't make it into my show at Odetta Gallery; but that's for another day!
The show is up and looks... you guessed it- FABULOUS. I am, of course, in good company and the stars must have been lined up just right when Ellen Hackl Fagan, artist/curator/gallerist decided to show me and my showmates. Joe Amrhein, Rico Gatson William Powhida and I make quite the powerful statement. It's been an education thus far and the show hasn't even officially opened. Come on down on the 16th of January (from 6-8) and see for yourself.
I am also fabulously exhausted as Bob and I have been running around, dropping work off cursing the accursed snow gods (who deemed it necessary to drop several sloppy inches of that evil white stuff on us on Friday morning when we were due to be in NYC). Bob and I were delayed by several hours, but made it in to assist in set up. It was another of those million odd anxious moments that make up a life! But the show is up and looks... do I need to repeat myself?

But I did manage to steal enough time to create a "Mini Jules" on our bedroom carpet. Jules is a shedding kind of fellow and in our spare minutes, Bob and I can be seen performing an odd shuffle, raking stray gobs of Jules' discarded fur into furrows that we typically throw away. The other night, however, I saw fit to industriously fashion a shadow facsimile of Jules. Bob and I were entertained (and, yes, we are easily entertained) but I think Jules missed the point and failed to see the humor in it. Oh well! You have to have silliness in your life.