goodnight, moon-food

back in nyc

It's good to be back. the house looks smashing, the cat smashed a glass, and I hope to be smashed myself-perhaps later tonight. New York is the same and different, and was waiting for me. I am moving in my old patterns, from home through filth to the divine, and back again.

Miss You Already

These two people are both reluctantly in need of a haircut,
and also do not like to be apart.

1st Order of Business

Many moons ago, Dieter Roth came and turned things upside down at RISD. While I recognize that he was unabashedly radical, sometimes careless, and somewhat badly-behaved, I have since quite fallen in love. It happened at the show at PS.1 years ago, walking into the room where an annotated version of Gartenskulptur was on view. I'm sure many will see this show of work-table-boards-cum-bas-relief-sculptures as a secondary exhibition, but I can't wait.

Dieter Roth at the NYT

Dieter Roth Show at Hauser & Wirth

Warren Beach Walks

Here on my second to last day in Rhode Island, Arlo and I went on an exuberant, damp stroll. We tromped through muck and puddles on the beach paths through the marsh and out to the beach.

There was a Great Blue Heron, soaring over us in simultaneously graceful and awkward flight. It was like a big, blue, feathered dinosaur, all angles and lavender-pewter colored in the gray sky. The poison ivy, rampant and threatening all summer, has turned a solid dark satin purple, and stands out plainly in the reeds. A murder of crows landed on a dead tree next to us, and began chattering, in their clattering and mechanical way. Their voices carried over the marsh, sounding like bicycles constantly in the midst of changing gears. There was a bleached crab shell, and there were whelks filled with barnacles. There was a very small pile of small gray feathers where some small bird had met it's fate.

application season at RISCA

A sample page from absolutely the worst online grant application EVER.

Practicing

Here's a new artists' statement I'm working on. It took shape as I was running the dog along the water this afternoon. Writing an accurate and succinct statement is so difficult. I have so much to say, yet I want the work to speak for itself. Here goes version one:

"Three themes continue to emerge and overlap in my practice: the artist at play in the studio, the fanstastical nature of the carnivalesque, and an investigation of the supernatural. At best, the resulting work creates an uncanny and whimsical universe all its own."