Saturday, July 4, 2009

I'm Still Here

Okay, it’s been a while…but I have good excuses. Marriage falling apart, husband insisting on selling the apartment, lots of elbow grease in fixing and painting the place in between having two jobs, buying a house/studio/school/archive in Port Jervis and that’s only the main stuff! I started this blog with the intention of writing every day or at least every two days. I mean, if you don’t have 5 minutes in a day to write a few words, something is radically wrong.
I spend my life doing many things that are in the long run, good for the world, but not always what I wanted to be doing. But something is radically wrong and I will try to correct it.
A few random thoughts:
Michael Jackson
I never completely understood his appeal. He was precocious to be sure, but the disco vibe got boring and the uniform wearing never made any sense. That kid could never had gotten through basic training, never mind getting to the point of earning a uniform with epaulets. The there’s the plastic surgery which only signals one thing to me: self-hatred. He looked so much better without the dimple and with his own nose and skin.
All I can think of is how terribly sad this all is. Celebrity was his savior and his downfall.
Francis Bacon
Go see the show. You will understand where he got his imagery. I enjoyed seeing his single-mindedness but the subject matter is heavy going, at least for me. I was someone sickened and depressed after seeing the show and I couldn’t go through it again like I usually like to do. I’ll try to get back at least one more time.
I’ve never seen so much of it. It made June much easier for me (the students were calmer), but enough, already. The raspberries on the terrace were earlier and plumper than ever.
July 4th
I'm going to a 4th of July Party today and my spirits are so much better politically-speaking than they were a year ago. What would our country be like if Bush or McCain were in the White House now? We're in a scary time, but we have a very excellent captain.

Sunday, June 7, 2009

Exhibit at Sabay Thai

Vernita Nemec (aka Vernita N'Cognita), has curated a show of fifteen of my works on paper from 2001-2009. he reception is Tuesday, June 9 from 6 to 8 p.m. and the address is 75-19 Broadway in Elmhurst, Queens. The show will be up for two months if you can't make it Tuesday night, and the food is excellent!

Friday, April 17, 2009

Creativity Unlimited! and Doodlelines

Click here to view and purchase Creativity Unlimited!

Click here to view and purchase Doodlelines

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Haiku 4/11

Rainy No Lord’s Day
A bone-bitter Greenwood hunt
with Gideon’s friends.
Patrick shames us all
with “Ceci n’est pas un oeuf”
why bother to try?

Enervation: is
it mental, actual or
both? Too tired to think.

Who cares? Why bother?
Not you. You’re busy, occupied.
Not me, I’m too sad.

Spring. So they say, but
My woolens are still on top
of my closet shelf.

Wedding Day, ha ha.
I remember it well. It
couldn’t have ever worked.

Where you spend your time
is who you are. I’m
just tire rubber.

So much easier
to write than paint a picture
no storage problems.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Boring Artist's Dilemma: Looking for Space

So I spend my time looking for new and better studio space. It's been a problem ever since I moved to NY. There is never enough room to store old work, make new work and organize yourself. It makes Canada look really good...
I'm trying to find a space to use on weekends and in the summer that has a train line. I want to be able to get to it by public transportation if possible. So I've been looking in Port Jervis on the Delaware River and also in Beacon, NY. How stupid will it be to go somewhere so new? Somewhere where I don't know anybody? Will my friends come to me? Not sure.
Anyway, I need a large space to archive everything and get it in one place. Then I can make sense of it, I hope.
I don't want to spend my days looking for things, forgetting what I've made or not making things at all! Space is key and it takes center stage in my brain these days.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

For Donnie

How can we lose you?
It’s clear we can’t, yet we have.
It makes me want to break stuff and cry and then cry some more.
You had so much more to do: we discussed that.
What can I say about someone
Who seemed to always do the right thing?
What do I say about someone who cared, capital “C”?
Who listened, truly listened,
Who was thoughtful—and you certainly were that—
Who spoke to us with such honesty and love?
You made me feel
Like I was the only person in the world
Who mattered.
Your unconditional love flowed
From your very essence.
You used authenticity as your guiding principle,
You had beauty without artifice,
(those jeans, those jeans!)
And when you looked at something,
Your eyes entered the object with such piercing observation
It’s a wonder they didn’t get stuck there.
Extraordinary doesn’t say it,
Beautiful doesn’t say it,
No words can say
What you were, dear, dear Donnie.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

I Let You Go

Sooner or later
something very valuable
slips through everyone's hands.

It may be a coin
fed into a slot or
a rare stamp on a yellowed envelope
thrown away without a thought.

Have you overlooked a masterpiece
in a junk shop selling for fifteen dollars
or left an autographed first edition
in that pile of books on your stoop?

Maybe it was a piece of real estate
not purchased or
a job you should have taken.

I let you go
and tossed you aside
not recognizing your worth,
your beauty.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Monday, January 26, 2009

Haiku or Poem-a-Day

tree carcasses
piled unceremoniously
next to the garbage bags
having fallen from grace.
no smell remains
as they lie in their limpness.
Next day a few flattened branches
and scattered needles
rest on the damp sidewalk.

List Found in Bag
Then circled: french horn
accordion file
Underlined: exam materials
and, circled again,
garbage can.

Get Out of My Way
Snow like in
a Christmas Card.
But in January
Bad moods, traffic snarls
and no thought of joy prevails.
No trace of goodwill towards

Philly snow and ice
t-shirts, coffee and boxes
detritus and dust.

January 20
Barack’s day (ours, too)
a fresh start, new beginning
with woes, war and worse.

For Ray
Ray the negative
one who criticized from love
death with no goodbye.

Can’t learn by reading
period three, art history
but she wants an “A.”

Morning at Ellen’s
loft talking of our art and death
while chewing on cake.

Phone Call

Elizabeth in
bed with bionic hip; she
asks me now I am.

I left without a
goodbye even though I heard
shuffling slippers.