Famous people.

August 16th, 2007

Yesterday was my big ole brush with the famous folk. My favorite was the first. Let me start at the beginning. I went to the International Gift Show at the Javitz Center with my mom (nice show, not a great deal of envelope-pushing, I was whelmed). After walking the entire gift show for six hours we went and got some sushi at Monster Sushi (best shumai anywhere) and then got tickets to Deuce. Angela Lansbury is in it and since she’s 81 I figured I’d better see her now, who knows when she’ll be back on Broadway again, if ever. So we go to the theater and (I’m going to scream the rest of this sentence) STEPHEN SONDHEIM WALKED IN, STOOD IN LINE AND BOUGHT TICKETS. LIKE A REGULAR PERSON. STOOD IN LINE. FOR A SHOW STARRING THE WOMAN WHO GOT A TONY PERFORMING IN HIS SHOW. Why the hell was he standing in line for a Broadway show? That’s like Derek Jeter standing in line with the peasants for tickets to a baseball game. I’m pretty proud of this, I behaved myself and only squeezed my mom’s arm until she squeaked in pain. (I probably gave her a nasty bruise, she bruises easily. Sorry Mom.) Then I saw Deuce, which was excellent, and afterwards, since the weather was so nice, I stood outside and waited for Ms. Lansbury. She signed lots of autographs for people and smiled and waved and chatted, truly a class act. Then, because Frost/Nixon was playing across the street (which I saw last week), I walked across and waited for Frank Langella to come out. Apparently he had visitors because we waited and waited and waited. And also waited. But we were rewarded! For out of the stage door came – James Earl Jones! He was the visitor! I love James Earl Jones. He spoke at my college graduation. Super-sweet guy. HUGE. Like tall and wide. Big fella. Then this character actor came out, he was visiting too, I looked up his name on IMDB, his name is Dylan Baker. He played a profoundly creepy pedophile in the movie Happiness and that is how I will remember him forever. He’s married to actress Becky Ann Baker who was in one of my favorite musicals Assassins WRITTEN BY STEPHEN SONDHEIM (see how everything comes full circle? Huh? See? Huh?) And then Frank Langella came out. My God, he’s gorgeous. Really. Like aside from being handsome, he has wrinkle-free skin. And he’s sixty-eight. No wrinkles. Whatever voodoo goat blood he bathes in at night is totally working for him. My goodness. By now it was 11:30 and I had been on my feet all day gift-showing and whatnot, and I went home. So for those of you keeping track, it was:

1. STEPHEN SONDHEIM. (Bruised My Mother.)
2. Angela Lansbury. (Classy British lady.)
3. James Earl Jones (“Luke, this is CNN.”)
4. Dylan Baker (Creepy Pedophile Character Actor.)
5. Frank Langella (Voodoo Goat’s Blood.)

P.S. STEPHEN SONDHEIM.

My triptych – part 3.

August 16th, 2007

Okay, I think I’m in the home stretch with this one. I did horrible, evil, cruel things to the painting (there was some scrubbing with paper towels to get texture, the screams could be heard for miles) but now it’s starting to look like something. I’m going to soften the SUPERRR-HAPPY! green tone defining the ground (more in the forest tones, less SUPERRR-HAPPY) and that’s about it. I like it. It’s a definite departure from my typical style (everything preplanned, organized, defined to the max) and I enjoyed the experimentation without knowing exactly where I was going. It’s nice sometimes to leave your comfort zone.

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Firefly and a New York tidbit.

August 14th, 2007

1. I watched the entire “Firefly” series this past week. For those who don’t know, it was a short-run series on FOX. People got really devoted to it and got a might pissy when it was cancelled (in 2003, I believe). I am reticent to watch anything sci-fi because more often then not, sci-fi takes itself so SERIOUSLY. Star Trek is a good example. So is Star Wars. Everyone is having very serious, furrowed-brow conversation about something or another. Also, more often then not, there are stupid-looking human interpretations of how aliens will look (*cough*Klingon*cough*). So it was with reservations that I watched “Firefly”. It was excellent. There’s no other way to describe it. It follows a group of people trying to make it day by day five hundred years in the future. They have problems, they have fears, they have joys, they have truly funny situations. It’s totally relatable even though there are spaceships and lasers. It’s almost like going five hundred years into the past, things then were the same (work, sickness, marriage, children, war, etc) but it was just differently handled. I am sorry that it was cancelled. I wish I could have watched more.

2. There’s a home near where I live on the West Side of Manhattan that houses drug addicts and homeless people. In return they pump you full of bible-y goodness. They had the best sign and I had been meaning to photograph it for years, but yesterday I noticed they had had it redone.

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The old sign looked almost exactly the same, except the text was all red and it didn’t have the white outline. Imagine walking home and seeing red neon glaring at you: “SIN WILL FIND YOU OUT”. I’m not Christian and I don’t drink or do particularly lascivious things, but that sign would make me look around, making sure no big heavenly spirit with enormous wings was going to place a searing hand on my shoulder and then force me to relive all my naughtinesses on a big screen while toasting my toes over flames.
“Look at all the things you coveted!”
“Ahhhhhh! Yes, I wanted stuff! I’m bad! Stop with the fire!”
“And the men you consorted with!”
“Ahhhhh! Yes, that’s bad too…oh, I remember him. If I remember correctly, he wasn’t bad at all, if you know what I’m sayin’ – Sorry! Sorry! Hothot hot hothothot!”
The new sign looks so much more chipper, almost Vegas. “SIN WILL FIND YOU OUT! AND WE HAVE SLOTS!” It’s not quite as soul-scouring.

New Purse! With Hexagonal Pomegranates!

August 9th, 2007

Before I get to my purse, I saw the play “Frost/Nixon” the other night with Frank Langella and Michael Sheen. It was so, so very good. It was described as a master class in acting, and they weren’t kidding. I mean, it’s based on a real incident, when David Frost interviewed Richard Nixon after his fall from grace, and how Frost the British talk-show host got an apology out of Nixon. You know what’s going to happen, and you’re spellbound despite that. I love good theater. I just wish the seats weren’t $100 all the time, otherwise I might go more often and get more culture.

Now, purse. I painted it and I must say, I’m awful proud-like. It’s got orangy-red pomegranates and blue squiggles with orange Swarovski rhinestones on the pomegranates. I’ll be proud to drag this thing with me everywhere I go for the next six months or so.

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The art deco plate.

August 7th, 2007

Remember back a bit when I mentioned that I had an art deco plate my mother got me in Italy with swallows and stylized leaves? And that it looked like crickets and hairy fetuses? And you said, “Nay, that Jessica is full of piffpuffery, there’s no way?” I prove it now through MAJICK OF PHOTOGRAEPHIE.

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The flash made it look not nearly as good, but see what I’m sayin’? Look at it up close and then further away. It’s trippy. But awesome and in terrific condition for a piece from the 1920s. I love it.

My triptych – part 2.

August 7th, 2007

New and improved! Now with trees!

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And blue shadowing at the bottom. It took me forever to tape out the negative spaces around the trees, but it was worth it. They’re a metallic brown with green accenting at the top. Very nice. Now I only have to figure out what to do to make it less stark…

My triptych.

August 5th, 2007

I’m working on a three-panel painting. It’s a new direction for me, since I normally work in pen and ink, or watercolor. This is acrylic (with some airbrushing, thank you for the airbrush, Cricket!). I’ve laid down the bases for all the sections, and now it looks like this:

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And now I’m painting trees. Spiky, tall, very vertical, very stylized trees. I using my T-square like it’s going out of fashion to get all the lines parallel. I made a mockup of the idea in my head in Photoshop (just to figure out how I wanted the layout):

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After I paint in the blue shading at the bottom and the trees, I’m going to reach a spot where I have to make it interesting because otherwise it’s just a bunch of lines with a bunch of smooth transitions (airbrush, thank you Cricket!) and zzzzzzzzzzzzz… boring… zzzzzzzzzzz… no…texture…. zzzzzzzzzzz… I’ll figure something out.

It’s my birthday! It’s my birthday!

August 4th, 2007

Well, okay, my birthday was July 31st, but whatever, I get to things when I get to them. I got terrific presents from people this year. I got gifts certificates to art supply stores and Sephora (that’s really bad, I can spend $100 there without blinking an eye) and an art deco dish with sparrows and leaves on it (although it looks like crickets and hairy fetuses from a distance, it’s very disturbing, I’ll put a picture up at some point) and an Art Nouveau glass and an airbrush with supplies and a computer-monitor-stand that moves in all directions – excellent swag, don’t you agree? It was a stellar birthday. Use age calculator birthday to quickly find out exact age details and make celebrations even more special. I turned 30, which honestly feels exactly like 29. I expected, I don’t know, to feel like an adult. But not so much with the adult-ness. My mom baked me a fruit tart and it was so pretty with the fruit decorations that I just had to take pictures of it.

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My co-workers threw me a little office shindig. There was cake and champagne and orange juice and this really neat balloon with a balloon in it! What will they think of next?

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So that was my birthday. I worked on my artwork for a good portion. I’m making a triptych with trees on it. I’ll have a post on it next.

My purses through the ages.

August 2nd, 2007

I was profoundly anti-purse for a long, long time. I just wore a jacket regardless of the season and kept my keys and wallet in my pockets. This was a fine system in the winter, but in the summer in New York, lemme tell you, it gets mighty hot and humid and it doesn’t help when you’re wearing a jacket, even a thin one. You’re gonna sweat. A lot. About three years ago I bought an iPod and this threw my whole wallet-and-keys system all to hell. I had to get a purse. Because I have no shoulders I wanted a messenger purse I could sling over my opposite shoulder and have hang on my hip. I eventually decided on this one:

http://www.amazon.com/Desert-Wash-Medium-Messenger-Bag

And I could paint it! Hooray! So I did:

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And that worked out nicely. Then it wore out and got all stained and whatnot. (Alas!) So I bought another one and painted it with fat little firebirds:

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And then that one wore out, too. So (you can see a pattern, no?) I got another one and painted it with a monster saying in French, “I am a monster. Boo.” but because French has to have a bunch of silent letters, “boo” is spelled “boux”. Ha ha ha! I am so funny.

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(Note our office fish, Harry Potter.)

Now my monster one looks all grotty and tired and I think it’s time for a new purse. I have a gray one (like the first one) and I think I’ll paint a vine on it with pomegranates. I love love love hexagons (I love them) and I can make the pomegranates hexagons with sparkly seeds! What more do I need? That’s what I thought. I’ll keep you posted on how that goes.

Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows – done.

August 1st, 2007

Sorry for the absence, I have Weeeeendows Veeeeesta at home and I, for some reason, cannot enter blog entries there. I think it is an Internet Explorer problem. No matter, I will download Firefox and all will be well (hopefully). So, I finished HP and the DH on Friday and Neville, while extremely helpful in the kicking-Voldemort-to-the-curb action, did not save the day singlehandedly. Sigh. One thing I did notice was the whole heck of a lot of violence in this book. How are they going to turn this into a movie for kids? My favorite moment of this is when Harry goes to visit this old lady who supposedly can help him on his quest to return the ring to Mordor or whatever. He comments on how bad her house smells, like rotting meat (foreshadowing!). He goes upstairs with her and – poof! – her neck pops open like a Pez dispenser and a giant snake slithers from her rotting corpse/shell. Okay, I don’t know about you, but seeing that on film would scare the bejeezus out of me and I’m old. What is some youngster going to think? I forsee nightmares in many children’s futures.