Things Learned

So, the Marking Marks opening is over, I think it went well, and people seemed pleased. That being said (and I promise this is the last I’ll post about this particular project--I am beinging to bore even myself), I learned a few things...listed in no particular order:

1. Wearing knock-off designer shoes is never a good idea, no matter how “architectural” they may or may not be. Blisters on the tops of toes is too high a price to pay.

2. Social anxiety makes it nigh impossible to put together cohesive sentences with people one has known for years and years. It does however, dictate a stint at the table inside Nola where the catering staff is happy to stop by each and every time with tasty num nums.

3. People never cease to surprise, from those who are gracious, funny and witty, to those who make an (ahem) abbreviated appearance. Good show kids.

4. Creepy sculptures add a certain je ne sais quoi to events...plus the fact that they (the sculptures) had to get they hairs did, is a subtle little detail, with plenty of ewww factor, worth pondering.

5. Curators are funny (and not just because I was headed towards the end of my second very-stiff-drink).

6. Ultimately I prefer process to finality. I will miss the rigour of thinking about art in a specific context, and I will miss seeing the show develop. I will not miss openings, or high heels.

NEXT up: we're going to take a look at the show over at Flux, and hopefully post a little 'bout the big rally.

*note: pictured shoes weren't actually worn.

the yumness

I am pleased to share that my good friend, artist Tonya Lee has started her own blog.

Slim on words, but heavy on beautiful images, the blog, Southern Atlantic Shark's Tooth Society reveals beauty in unexpected places. In addition, Lee has posted a link to an article where a high-school student has figured out a way to help manage the "plastic epidemic."

It make s for good and hopeful reading...as I am guessing the blog will.

Found Treasures

I promised that I'd write about where I'd been:

Two weeks ago I spent time at my family's lake house in northern Michigan. And despite the cold (fire was the only source of heat) and the somewhat remote location of our cabin, I never felt unengaged. That is, there wasn't a time when I was bored, when I longed for the television, or even a movie (and I brought my laptop just in case).

In between hiking through the woods and discovering a pile of stones reputed to be the foundations of an ancient farmhouse, hunting for fossils on the beach (my brother found one, I didn't…but his fossil mistakenly got packed with some of my found treasures), and rummaging around the attic and old barn, my days where filled.

My brother and I found a few things: my father's diary from 1957—from which we read aloud to the hilarity of the rest of the family, we rediscovered the hayloft in the barn filled, oddly, with timber and an overstuffed chair from the 50s that the mice had had their way with, and we stumbled across the rules to the skeet range from the 40s-60s. We read the first rule: 'Absolutely no drinking on the range'…and my father wondered aloud if a sober breath had ever been pulled there.

There were other, more minor discoveries as well: family photos, and old books made new again, plus a return to simplicity.

Now, back in my day-to-day life, I try to hold on to the feeling of easy expansiveness and to remind myself not to get too bound up in things. After all, I am still the same person who tried to sneak up on a wild turkey…just to see what would happen.

What happened? My brother and I got within two feet of it, when it exploded upward out of the underbrush and scared the hell out of us. Then we went to the orchard and began a debate about crabapple trees.