Saturday, May 31, 2008

Socrates Sculpture Park


On Friday, Hubby & I were graced with a rare treat: a personal tour of Socrates Sculpture Park, in Long Island City, New York. You would think that I would have finagled this one, me coming from an art background, etc....but NO, it was all because over the years, my hubby has provided materials for many of the artists that exhibit there. I have never seen him more proud than when he sees his own name next to the word "thanks" on an artist plaque.
Much gratitude to Alyson Baker, Tara Sansone, Lars Fisk and the rest of the group at Socrates, for a tasty lunch, and an indepth tour. And to their many dawgs, of all sizes, shapes & colors, who run the office, while the staff is busy changing the face of Long Island City & the entire art world.

The current exhibit is called: Waste Not, Want Not.
May 4 - August 4
www.socratessculpturepark.org



The following works were made largely from found, recycled or abandoned materials.
Isn't this gorgeous? I would love this in my own garden. It's made from discarded wood doors.




Look! An abandoned shopping cart, cared for in it's own environment.





Here's the view of the Manhattan Skyline from the water's edge of the park, along the East River.

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Work Space


I've had it with these apartment/house tours that boast sparse, beautiful, modern, pristine work spaces. C'mon into my home office folks... it's time for a little reality check.

Monday, May 26, 2008

Are You Ready for the Summer?


This is the theme song from the movie "Meatballs". You young whippersnappers should go rent it. It'll put a smile on your face.
Happy Memorial Day Everyone!

Friday, May 23, 2008

Addicted to Shells

I'm addicted to shells. I like to find them, sort them, look at them, think about them...



Here I am in full shell-hunting attire... see the little paperbags I'm holding? They're from the Hotel, & meant to be used for sanitary napkin disposal. Perfect for shell booty. Don't tell anyone.


Barb gave us this gorgeous shell plate on our wedding.


These are tiny shells & beachglass bits that I collected on my honeymoon. I filled-up a small shampoo bottle with them. Ain't it cute?

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Thursday, May 15, 2008

Walk: 5/15/08


Flirty Chair Finds Mate. Secret Squirrel MIA.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Robert Rauschenberg, 1925-2008


Just one peek at the work of this great artist,
and you see his influence in so much of our own art.
He paved the way.



Tuesday, May 13, 2008

Thrifty Plate


We have a thrift store in our town. I go in there every other day or so, hoping to find something like THIS for $2.

Walk: 5/13/08


This type of thing always amazes me.

Sunday, May 11, 2008

Best Mom Speech. Ever.


By Anna Quindlen (now go get some tissues)
We are sitting at lunch when my daughter casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of "starting a family." "We're taking a survey," she says, half-joking. "Do you think I should have a baby?" "It will change your life," I say, carefully keeping my tone neutral. "I know," she says,"no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous vacations...." But that is not what I meant at all. I look at my daughter, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes. I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing will heal, but that becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will forever be vulnerable.

I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper without asking "What if that had been MY child?" That every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her. That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die. I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the primitive level of a bear protecting her cub. That an urgent call of "Mom!" will cause her to drop a souffle or her best crystal without a moment's hesitation. I feel I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood. She might arrange for childcare, but one day she will be going into an important business meeting and she will think of her baby's sweet smell.

She will have to use every ounce of her discipline to keep from running home, just to make sure her baby is all right. I want my daughter to know that everyday decisions will no longer be routine. That a five year old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather than the women's at McDonald's will become a major dilemma. That right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming children, issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that restroom. However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother. Looking at my attractive daughter, I want to assure her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will never feel the same about herself. That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child. That she would give it up in a moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years -- not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish theirs. I want her to know that a cesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor.

My daughter's relationship with her husband will change, but not in the way she thinks. I wish she could understand how much more you can love a man who is careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to play with his child. I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she would now find very unromantic. I wish my daughter could sense the bond she will feel with women throughout history who have tried to stop war, prejudice and drunk driving. I hope she will understand why I can think rationally about most issues, but become temporarily insane when I discuss the threat of nuclear war to my children's future. I want to describe to my daughter the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike. I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog or a cat for the first time. I want her to taste the joy that is so real, it actually hurts.

My daughter's quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes. "You'll never regret it," I finally say. Then I reach across the table, squeeze my daughter's hand and offer a silent prayer for her, and for me, and for all of the mere mortal women who stumble their way into this most wonderful of callings. This blessed gift from God . . . that of being a Mother.

Thursday, May 8, 2008

Rainy Face


Here's another item from the archealogical dig in the closet. By coincidence, it is the very same face that I made when I heard we were getting 2 days of rain in a row.

Tuesday, May 6, 2008

The Ashtrays


These were my Mom's ashtrays. They conveniently fit in the palm of her hand, as she went about her housework, leaving trails of smoke behind her. They teetered on the edge of the ironing board, while we watched "Edge of Night." They graced the formica counter top while the meatloaf baked, & the green beans boiled. They just KNOW things.

Monday, May 5, 2008

Woody Watch


Woody Woodpecker Bubble Watch, circa 1972.
(my very first watch)
I'm not sure why I can't find these on ebay. Either A) they are totally worthless, or B) This is the last remaining one to survive the 70's.

Walk: 5/05/08



During this morning's walk, we saw this sight, and I just couldn't resist. My apologies.
I promise, in posts to come, there WILL be greatness!
After much procrastination, & under duress, I finally cleaned out one of the closets on saturday. Here's a partial list of what I found:
1) My Woody Woodpecker Bubble Watch from 1972.
2) Gorgeous Mid-Century Ashtrays
3) All my wedding stuff, including a check for $200 from 8 years ago, that we never took to the bank.
4) A big box of skinny jeans.
5) A big box of fat jeans. (maternity)
6) Memos & Performance reviews from 1996.
7) A valise from the 1930's.
8) A $2 bill.
and more.

So please excuse this out-of-character fuzziness, while I re-group.

Friday, May 2, 2008

Q

The letter of the day is "Q".
As in... it is QUITE damp outside, therefore the snails are all out sliming around town.

Thursday, May 1, 2008

Another Flirty Chair

From my walk this morning....




Flirty Chair with Secret Squirrel Revealed: