I've no recollection of what these plans / designs were intended for; sketches at least 18 years old. Regardless of their erstwhile infamy, I don't know what the three screens were about, and don't know to what room these referred. And what on earth is “Model of Strategy”? It had to be for work (“Time to… Continue reading Floor plans of a room: art archive
Here are some sketchbook studies from some years ago. Two of these (above right and farther below) turned into oil paintings (working in thin glazes) on wood panels, frames painted to match. In the case of the studies (second set in particular), I believe the finished pieces lost something in the translations; the faces are more… Continue reading Studies for paintings: art archive
Apologies! This was meant to post yesterday— the danger of three day weekends; one forgets what day it is. Anyway, I love this drawing! It's an illustration that I did (in ink) as a full page for a magazine layout project back in the day. It's my friends Kelley, Thomas, and Sean (but they were in the… Continue reading Ink works: art archive
While upstate over the holiday, I did some excavating and archiving of old art* and other things when I could find time. Often late at night, when the house was quiet. The first night followed time spent watching old super 8 home movies from childhood. A natural progression, and something I'd planned to do this trip.… Continue reading Notes from the archives
The image above is an odd little thing I wrote when I was 23; I was photographing sketchbooks and other do-dads while I was at the Farm. There will be more to come, art archive series. . . . It's sunny today, a nice gift. At midnight a new year begins, everything cyclical.
I went out in the afternoon to say hi to the Dudes. The new horse is still being kept separate until they've all got to be friendly, so he was down in a separate pasture. Seneca and Prince were feeling feisty and joined me in running
The crunch of gravel underfoot; incline. Sun coming in low and glaring off every harbor-facing pane of the buildings on the other side of the park. Cold. Empty playground today, and no leaves remain on the trees. I can see the harbor through the naked branches and the shining points of the city beyond neighboring rooftops out… Continue reading A dense fog enveloped Brooklyn last night
The wind in the trees at night in October sounds like all the silent wishes of dreams, rushing to be first in line.
Waning of summer month, end of beach weather month. Back to work and back to school month. Memory— no A pattern, died in the wool. Buckled-up books, backpacks, cardigans. Skirts and stockings and closed-up shoes that suddenly feel too tight. Early rising, hasty breakfasting— Tie your shoes and Don’t forget your lunch and The bus… Continue reading September
Each successive month of summer leaves us in its wake faster than the previous— longing for 9:30 sunsets, never quite knowing what time it is for the wanton excess of sunlight. This summer has held some challenges and sad moments, a couple more of which I learned about on Sunday. 2016 has been an unstable year, and persistently so.… Continue reading Lengthening shadows of late summer
e daggar art: THE MUSEUM 