I'm back

It all started to come back to me last night. Ok, so I’ll back the truck up a bit to acknowledge that I essentially stopped posting here altogether. I could say I was busy which I was but I’m always pretty busy. That’s the annoying part; lots of interesting, comedic, embarrassing things have happened to me just as they always seem to do but I lost some momentum that pushes me to post them on this lovely green outlet for all my “crazy”. Observations, thoughts and involvement went in and out of me like cigarette smoke.

Back to last night… I was at the Free Library of Philadelphia on Vine for the much anticipated Annie Leibovitz lecture and book signing. I love a good book event and I like it even better at the FLP because I know the way they run their big events so that I can not only see the lecture but know when to cut out early to get to the front of the book signing line right behind the professional eBayers who have no interest in the author or their talk, just their authentic signature for the auction. The last time I was there was to see Garrison Keillor when Liberty came out a little over a month ago and while chatting with the people around me about how much we don’t like Sarah Palin but love her in the media I managed to offend one of those old ladies that hang out at the library and we got into a very awkward argument about the Bush Doctrine. I won’t go into it further. She started it. Moving on, I again was chatting with the fellow Leibovitz while clutching my book for it was soon be marked by a true icon when I thought of something that made me want to kick myself. I didn’t bring my camera. I am not one to bring cameras to these things but how cool would it have been if when I got to the front of the line I handed her my camera and asked her to take my picture. Nothing fancy, just a snapshot but then I could say I had an Annie Leibovitz portrait of myself! The most famous portrait photographer of all time (forget Diane Arbus) took my photograph. That would be one to show the grandkids. She was so kind and gracious when I finally did get my book signed I was sure she would have done it. Ugh! I could really kick myself.

Although I missed this great opportunity I did get something out of it aside from my personalized autograph. For the first time in quite a while I felt clever. I felt like my old self and next time she puts out a book, or any photographer for that matter I will make sure to pack a camera. Finally I feel the momentum building so next time I breathe in the cigarette smoke of personal experiences I will not neglect to blow it in your faces.

Arctic Splash!

Ah, Arctic Splash. It’s as essential to Fishtown as pajamas as outerwear or Newports... But, we do have an abundance of hipsters. On occasion they will do something moderately amusing such as organizing costume bike rides where they get about 15-20 people to dress up in crazy costumes and ride around the neighborhood. Fishtown is basically divided into two main groups: the hipsters and the old school Fishtowners who can’t understand why people would spend mucho dough for a newly renovated row home or environmentally friendly condo and have an apparent addiction to a sugary ice tea-esq beverage called Arctic Splash. (I am the exception as I fall into neither category.)

This addition to F-town’s official website is clearly the work of those of the Johnny Brenda loving persuasion and Timmy and I got a good laugh out of the hipster's take on our hamlet's beloved drink. (http://www.johnnybrendas.com/) . Check it out:


http://fishtown.us/image/tid/53
http://fishtown.us/image/tid/55


this picture was taken right outside my house.

Buster is the feline David Mach

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_Mach

My cat vomits a lot. A lot. It has gotten worse with age (he is 6) and cannot eat anything except for dry cat food. I took him to the cat doctor and they said that this is a common problem and the best I can do is make sure that his food and water are fresh, bowls are cleaned daily, etc… Now, B-bud has always been a very special cat known for his impressive vertical jumps, keen mole hunting skills, and his proclivity for taking people’s socks and scattering them around the house when he is upset or anxious. On more than one I have woken up with him in my bed surrounded by several of Clay’s socks or come home to socks (sometimes underpants), well, everywhere.

He is a sensitive creature and his formative years were spent surrounded by art students in a Savannah apartment that was painted as a color theory installation (I got an A). So it has come as no surprise to me that my little guy is articulating his physical pain through his art. Kinda like Frieda Kahlo but instead of injuries sustained in a bus accident, he has a upset stomach and he chose art installations as his medium. I don't let him near my paints.

When I came home the other day I found this (see pictures) on the rug in my living room. He had vomited and then (I’m not sure of the order) methodically scratched (etched?) the rug half way around the pile of vomit (the photograph does not show all of the etching due to the angle the picture was taken and the flash). He topped it off with one of Clay’s wool socks. I took pictures and studied this for a while before I finally got some paper towels and carpet cleaner spray.

I have analyzed the meaning and motivational force behind this living room art installation but I would like to hear what you – the Aut, Colleen, reader thinks Buster is trying to covey in this, his most recent work.

I think it is a very powerful piece.

Stick that in your pipe and smoke it Herb Lottier!

I just ordered a ticket for the Frieda Kahlo exhibition at the Philadelphia Museum or Art with my real “blacklisted” name. Maybe I’ll hang out on the main stairs under the Calder mobile, eat lunch in the cafeteria, and flaunt my complete lack or regard for their imposed and poorly enforced ban. Herb, I called your bluff – now suck on it!

Kate is the new Sister Wendy. Remember her? No? Ok.

You all know my good friend Kate Ryan from her witty bon mot comments here on Aut, Colleen or you may remember her as the helpful sales associate at the nautical themed children’s clothing retailer Kids Ahoy! several years ago in Savannah. Well, now you can all see her being accosted by a roving camera crew and coercing her to articulate her feelings about the Museum of American Folk Art in New York. What a daunting task! Especially for someone with their MFA. Click on the link and she is Kate R (obviously) and as an added bonus click on Mike R and you can see one of the fabulous Ryan boys in action.

http://nwhyc.com/reviews.php?catID=4&vid=99

Sadly, Sheila the butt sex girl was not in attendance and therefore could not be interviewed.

Speaking of butt sex, I am reading Henry Miller's Tropic of Cancer and it is SO dirty! Like Marquis de Sade dirty. Its really good though...

Cheers Candace!

Lately one of my favorite neighbors is getting quite a bit of overdue press. Without the hot pink glow of her gallery sign it would be much more difficult for people to find my street. She also has the best gallery shows ever with lots to eat and drink!

Its great to see my friends start to get the credit they deserve for being so amazing!
http://www.citypaper.net/articles/2007/08/16/candace-karch

http://www.bambiproject.com/

Let us examine my literary bed sores

Obviously I have been reading a lot more than usual lately so I am going to just include two or three books in my famous book review posts at a time as to not overwhelm you. I have been putting off doing a book post for a while because I am a bit overwhelmed myself. Over the past month or so I have blazed through a staggering eleven, yes eleven, books. It is a personal record that I doubt I will ever beat. Geez, I hope I don’t ever have another opportunity to beat it. Anywho, lets get started shall we?

Everyman – Philip Roth
“Yet, what he learned was nothing when measured against the inevitable onslaught that is the end of life. Had he been aware of the mortal suffering of every man and woman he happened to have known during all his years of professional life, of each one’s painful story of regret and loss and stoicism, of fear and panic and isolation and dread, had he learned of every last thing they had parted with that had once been vitally theirs and of how, systematically, they were being destroyed, he would have had to stay on the phone through day and into the night, making another hundred calls at least. Old age isn’t a battle; old age is a massacre.”

This is the first Philip Roth novel for me. I knew that he was some brilliant, widely quoted, Pulitzer Prize winning writer, and from what I read off the book’s cover, a recipient of a Penn/Faulkner award, but I avoided reading him because I got the impression he was all doom and gloom. As you can tell from that little sample, he sure is. This novel is about an average man, an everyman if you will, struggling with his own mortality while looking back over his life and measuring his failures against the good that may have come from his unextraordinary life. Despite that fact that I am not an old Jewish man approaching death I connected with this book. There seemed to be this detached panic that comes from knowing and accepting death will triumph and that idea sinking in while knowing you are completely powerless against it that seemed pliable enough to relate to any difficult situation where you know eventually you just have to bite the bullet. Maybe that’s just me. Regardless, after some time passes and I start to forget about this book and my reevaluated thoughts on death subside when my attention is given to the new fall TV lineups, I think the following quote will remain with me as enduring and poignant:
“There is no remaking reality. Just take it as it comes. Hold your ground and take it as it comes.”

The Painted Word – Tom Wolfe
This I picked up in the Art Theory section of the National Gallery’s bookstore in DC. I took my bad mood and sulked over to this book and away from my mother who was picking out Kandinsky prints for her
classroom. What a fantastic little book! I loved it. The idea of the book is based on the following:

“Realism does not lack its partisans, but it does rather conspicuously lack a persuasive theory. And given the nature of our intellectual commerce with works of art, to lack a persuasive theory is to lack something crucial – the means by which our experience of the individual works is joined to our understanding of the values they signify.”

I know what you are thinking : YIKES! Forget that because he breaks it down in this funny social criticism where he uses his enthusiastic voice to sift through all the art world rhetoric. Though Wolfe is an expert on contemporary art theory, he writes as if he is an outsider or an anthropologist of the art world which he refers to as le monde. Best of all, this book is just over a hundred pages. All books on art should be so concise.

"You're Like a Whitney Houston Song and I'm Like Whitney Houston After Everything Went Wrong"

That is a lyric off the hereafters' self titled album which I think is pretty great.

I also think this picture is pretty amazing. I don't know who these kids are or where I found this online or if whoever took it realized its subliminal brilliance but maybe that is part of what makes it so interesting to me. The colors, the composition, the emotion carried between the indoor and outdoor space with the child at the window creating three distinct planes... I could easily write an essay on this picture. I won't, but I could.

I wonder if this would qualify as "found art".

Stitch & B*tch

If you live in Philly, stop by Vagabond boutique and check out fellow SCAD grad Hilary White's fabulous new work. Vagabond is one of my favorite stores in Philly because not only does it have the coolest clothing lines (Ella Moss, Tracy Reese, Rebecca Taylor, LaRok...) but it also sells original clothing from local designers. On top of that it sells yarn! Fabulous hand spun yarn! I haven't knitted in forever but when I went the other day to check out Hilary's stuff I decided I am going to start up again. Their staff is amazing too. When I was knitting and got stuck on something I would bring it in and help me out.

Nerd alert! When I was in high school I was part of a knitting circle with my mom. We would meet up on Thursday nights in Marlton. It was my dirty little secret...

http://vagabondboutique.com/index.php?p=news