The Mind's Eye

"When was the last time you had 40 minutes of unbroken bliss?" This line from the radio was so good I had to write it down with a purple marker. Perhaps a sign of the hectic times in which we live, most people zip through life without those blissful moments. Hopefully this weekend remedied that for many. It did for me.

I have been listening to the book Rapt by Winifred Gallagher about one's abilty to pay attention. From the start, I loved the premise: We choose our life experience based upon our mind's focus. Gallagher's neuropsychological approach to the brain's ability to focus on many levels, as well as our ability to direct our thoughts, has inspired me to consider how I occupy my mind. The holiday season is a prime example of this. In trying to create the 'perfect' holiday moment, many people destroy their holiday cheer by focusing on the small details instead of the big picture. It reminds me of what a very busy friend of mine sagely said, "I may be busy, but I don't have to be unhappy about being busy."

Happy Thanksgiving

I know the post is a day early, but I wanted to get it in before I disconnect from the world. The family and I are headed up to Potic Cottage with a couple of good friends for our Thanksgiving weekend. With tomorrow's soup to nuts dinner already ordered from Black Horse Farms, we are all set for some much needed downtime. It won't all be naps by the fireplace, however. With next week's show already framed and ready to go, I've packed up the paints, planning to work on a portrait of Modernemama's house, as well as a painting for The Book About Death show in Brazil.

It's also a good time to reflect on all the blessings I have been given throughout my life. I am incredibly thankful and look to give back as much as I have been given.

Rosalyn Drexler

A couple of years ago, PaceWildenstein Gallery had a Rosalyn Drexler collage show. The graphic images mixed painterly figures with expressionistic text, and the effect is electric. Drexler, working at the height of the Pop art movement, is also an accomplished playwright and novelist and gives new meaning to the inclusion of text in visual art.

Big Girls

What happens when girls as big as Godzilla take over the earth? You'd better watch out! The first book I ever wrote was a novella called Searching for Moon Girl. Based on a series of images I created, this modern-day Alice in Wonderland is a surreal, episodic journey where a ten-year-old girl discovers herself. Writing the book was a fun journey for me too; with a cast of talking insects and seven-foot-tall big girls, it helped me explore writing a fantasy novel for young readers. More recently it's been great to see some of those images framed and ready for the Ripe Art exhibition in two weeks.

Our Crew

The blogging crew, Jane of Modernemama and 'The Guy', Heidi of Faboolosity and her guy, and of course James and myself, met up last night at Crew, a charming restaurant in Huntington Harbor that had the ambience of a yacht club. After an opening round of their infamous crab balls, which inspired a few anatomical quips, we sat down to a tasting menu and a lively conversation.

Verace: The Punchlist

For those of you who have ever done an architectural project, you know the joy of looking at the final punchlist. Verace, now in its final stages, is at that point, with the lighting and interior finishes in place. I love the variety of textures, with punches of color and light articulating the spaces, even in the rest rooms.

Captree Progress

Progress on the Captree project continues. The family compound of three beachfront houses are now in different phases of framing. One project has a rough hewn cedar shingle roof just completed, while the others are getting ready for final framing and shingling.

Mel Pekarsky: Desert Series

Walking the line between abstract and realistic, artist Mel Pekarsky's series of desert paintings, on exhibition now at SUNY Stony Brook's gallery, offer a surprising amount of interpretation. Like a giant rorschach test, the shapes and textures of the landscape take on an associative quality--- that looks like a groundhog, it reminds me of war, the black and white images feel dry; I loved eavesdropping on the conversations around me.

You've Got Mail

Isn't it the most charming feeling to receive mail, not junk mail or bills, but actual 'thinking of you' mail?

Today I received two unexpected treats: recent pics of James' nephew Miles with his bass clarinet-- too cool, and then an awesome package from Abalcabal, a mail art project by Jennifer Zoe as a fitting tribute to Ray Johnson. Almost like a postcard from a distant land, my Abacabal package included pages of art created by artists from points unknown-- which included work by Louise Millmann and me. I loved discovering the collages, the sketches, and the photos, as well as the audio CD and sketchbook included. The sketchbook, a communal, add-a-sketch one that passes from person to person, is the perfect way to create an image without stressing too much about it. After starting it off with two line drawings, I am already considering whose hands will get to play with it next.

If You Can't Stand the Heat

I like to think of kitchens as aspirational spaces. We ascribe to them our domestic desires, fantasizing about the meals and the conversations that will take place in our ideal world. Of course reality can be far from our dreams, as those with professional Viking ovens now used to reheat their take-out can attest, but today's kitchen is a vast improvement from the past. The 18th C. finally brought an end to the walk-in fireplaces, where hoop skirts often made for dangerous situations, while the 19th C. relegated food preparation to the least sociable areas of the home. The 20th C. gave us refrigerators, microwaves, and TV dinners. Amenities not withstanding, the modern kitchen, now a public realm, often sets the tone for the entire house. Is it cozy or spacious, cluttered or sleek? Living Etc, the British decor magazine, got me thinking about the Oak Beach kitchen. The top kitchen struck me as a perfect mix of textures and functions, without being fussy, perfect for a beach house lifestyle. The one below, however, serves as my aspirational kitchen-- bohemian, comfortable, colorful. In my mind, I'm sitting at the table having a cup of tea with a Russian novel.

In contrast to the usual stainless ranges, I also found a couple of really interesting British range ovens. The first one, Leisure Range 90, has the most functional interior, with many short racks along one side and a larger space on the other. This enamel range has a 1930's modern feel to it that also appeals to me. The other one, a Range Master Classic 90, was similar, but provided more options in color-- from green to black to blue to red, and could serve as an incredible accent to an all-neutral kitchen. Both remind me of an enamel oven James and I saw in a house for sale in upstate NY. It was all I could do not to bid on the house simply for the fantasy of cooking on that range. Fortunately I came to my senses right about the time the firehouse across the street set off the 12 o'clock whistle, which I had not included in my reverie.

Hundertwasser

I had a lot of fun putting together this village painting. As I worked, each building developed its own personality-- and yet they all seem to channel Austrian architect Hundertwasser's aesthetic sensiblity. One of my favorite architects, Hudertwasser used the topography to integrate colorful, eco-friendly structures right into the landscape. Would love to name the piece after him but wonder if it is too literal. Thoughts?

Studio Update

A quirky little oil sketch I just finished-- which I've nicknamed "Butterbean"-- has me reevaluating Spanish surrealist Joan Miro. I've always been more of a fan of the cerebral Belgian Rene Magritte, his images serving up a beautiful series of narrative contradictions, but Miro's graphic abstractions are pulling me in. I even included a Miro eyeball in my little gardenscape-- so perhaps I should title it as an ode to him. Suggestions are very welcome.

Meanwhile the invitations to the Ripe Art Gallery holiday show are beginning to make the rounds. My portion of the show, Homes for the Holidays, will include the houses based on emotions series, but also the alphahouses and Moongirl series. It's been fun thinking about seeing so much of the work up-- wondering the story the whole collection will tell.

ModerneMama

I had a lovely trip to see blogger Jane, aka Modernemama's, bathroom today. The house, an Andrew Gellar modernist puzzle, is a complicated balance of midcentury aesthetics, so redoing the master bath is an interesting renovation. It's size-- substantial-- with a connection to a walk in closet, and the space functions well with both a shower stall and a sunken bath, so the renovation is more cosmetic than structural. Jane graciously shared her tile ideas over a delicious cup of Belgian coffee, and I was keen to agree with her direction for the space.

What was even more intriguing was searching for the best spots to photograph the facade of the house. Its complexity combined with a shadowy elusiveness made me wonder which elevation could serve as the genesis of a surreal painting based on the house. I like that the building ducks and hides behind shrubbery, sneaking an unexpected angle here and there. Finding its sweet spot? That's a challenge I'm willing to take.

Measuring Life With Coffee Spoons

The metaphor of using everyday objects to note the passing of time is nothing new. Some of us mark calendars, others focus on the seasons. As a child, my every afternoon was marked with the closing line "Like sand in an hourglass, these are the days of our lives." Poet TS Eliot used coffee spoons to measure out a lifetime in The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock to show how the narrator goes from looking to disturb the universe to wondering if he should dare eat a peach, until he finally questions if his mundane life is what he intended at all.

Nostalgia is another way to mark time. More than our personal photos, finding a vintage package of cereal, a childhood toy, or a retro lamp brings us back to a point in our collective consciousness. Members of an entire generation can spend hours reliving details of pop culture, both big and small. I myself keep a can of Octagon cleanser in my basement just as a reminder of the past.

Recently I saw some photographs which connect the nostalgia of vintage-model toy cars with a very modern and clean style. Cliff Gardiner and John Keller from photography studio Klph and John Studio showed one image recently at Ripe Art Gallery, and plan to have an upcoming summer show of many more. On several levels, I love the contrasts they offer: gritty and clean, child-like and ironic, simple and complex.

Recent Sketches

I spent this weekend working on a handful of postcard-sized gouache sketches. Keeping it loose, gouache has the immediacy and childlike quality perfect for small studies like these.