Pink Umbrella & such

Claudio ( in progress) and Valeria on the wall watch as I hang my umbrella on the pulled-back trapeze to dry. Thus ensues a certain adventure in visuals:

Portrait of Valeria

New York, again

So last night I went out into the summer evening, the people everywhere on the sidewalks walking. Every color, every shape, every tonation...I swam with the current and I swam against it & through it. Every face was a portrait, every building a face. The tide took me up and forgave me for being in other cities and other countries. For loving other faces and other evenings. It didn't clean itself up for me or ask where I'd been or even why I might have been there. It loved me anonymously, unconditionally, without promises or proofs, and laughingly personal.
Home again.

Dinner in Empoli

After having driven all day through the beautiful hills of Umbria, stopping in Assisi, and then San Gimignano in Tuscany we made our way to Empoli and Claudio.
Claudio met us in his old black car in summer dark with his new muscles and russet and green eyes.
He served us dinner on a black table with black plates and wine glasses. There was a red rose. Dinner was a Greek salad and cold pasta with wine we had brought from San Gimignano. After myriad conversations about the particles that we are all made of we went out for ice cream and a walk through the town. An ancient fountain spoke to us, while lions guarded the water.

More Italy

Italy!

Light Shapes

Skitter, skatter laser shot of light through the window in the late afternoon--could be underwater, other world or just the brilliant maya of here and now....

Portrait of Donna

Molten City

At the Met today I reacquainted myself with Rembrandt's soft shadows, drifted past various ballgowns smeared with beads, rhinestones, sequins and delicate embroidery, found a delicious Picasso drawing and sat under a dense thicket of bamboo on the roof. Out in the street the heat rode the pavement like horny gangsters. Tonight I have three fans on and the aftertaste of Herzog's Bad Lieutenant.
What a life.

Train Clouds

Outside the window is the cathedral of clouds, the wizz of wires, the sudden appearance of domestic, commercial, and urban angles invaded with green, puddles and the tide coming in or going out. Inside I watch a movie (The Hurt Locker) on the laptop. The meaning of movement, the meaning of stasis.
I think I'll go make another painting...

Portrait of L

Dreamy Green

Virgil & Djoal

New Drawings

V & Feather asleep--above & below



V asleep:

Feather:



Dennis:


Chip:

Portrait of Dennis

Portrait of Chip (SRD)

Chinglish joke for Virgil: paper painting

Portrait of 3

Sun & Wind: glittering

Pouring through my pores, drenching the retinal skin with the nameless essences we try to name as colors....

Portrait of D