Waiting for POTUS, not Godot.

As any good photog worth their weight in pixels, Yours Truly, knowing that POTUS was heading to the Middling City this fine May day (the 13th), pursued the photo op with determination.
Senator Gillibrand's office sent around emails to MC media and YT pursued this op via the Shiney Happy Mag, as well as the offices of Gillibrand, Brian Higgins, and Schumer.
All replied, to borrow Chuck's now-famed and oft-repeated phrase: GOFORIT.

YT was just alongside Senator Schumer on Sunday for the Big C at the Big U and am still wondering why I didn't ask him to shove through a cred at that moment.
But, as You will see, all worked out swimmingly and here is YT in a nice soggy self-port moment with laden Air Force One in the background.
Many of us on the riser opted for this photographic moment, either by the hand of oneself - or a colleague.
There is another image of YT with Clark Dever, who was there shooting for WNYMedia.net, started by my pal Marc Odien. Clark and I were captured with the verysame converted 747 by Tina Yee of the Democrat and Chronicle in Kodak City. Most of her images of the two of us are primo, but her Hail Mary technique went off the rails and Clark and I are more out of focus than in the image above.

Obama was slated for landing at 12:20 and AF1 was impressively only ten minutes late - JetBlue-like in its promptness.

We had all checked in by 9 a.m. and were in a generic holding area/building near BNIA's small runway expecting AF1. We were shuttled out to the tarmac (not to be confused with the camera bag of choice by YT, Tamrac) after a thorough security check, and then set our gear up.
We were then back in the building until 11, when we were re-shuttled, reunited with our gear and then more waiting.
At about noon it began to rain, as Norm F predicted, watching his ominous small weather map on his phone.


AF1 lumbered up to the airport, slow and silent, and was spotted by some of the media types, pointing at the sky.
Obama emerged, jaunty and smiling, and was met at the base of the Prior Aviation steps by Brian Higgins, Louise Slaughter, and Byron Brown.
Umbrellas were absent, the limo awaited, and conversation took place next to the passenger door.
Obama took off in a long motorcade and the packing of equipment began, after watching the national media types emerge from AF1 and run to their awaiting limo.
About 200' away the motorcade stopped alongside a BNIA fire house where he met with select reps of Flight 3407 families.
Then they were truly off for ...
on our shuttle bus someone had their laptop opened and on it YT read: 5 Medium, 5 Hot - Obama had been spirited away to the nearest Duff's (on Dick Road) for chix wings.
No tofu for this visiting dignitary, instead fatty and spicy wings.
YT imagines Obama doing extra crunches, etc. tonight to compensate for this repast.

Once back at the vehicle, wended downtown to lunch with Harvey and Leah.

To date YT has photographed both Bushes, Clinton, Gore, and Obama - as well as dozens of other politicos doing what they do ...
Today's access was reasonable but not as close as I've had before. Obama had three hours in the MC.

To draw a parallel to rock star access, today's was Rod Stewartesque rather than Dave Matthews: Rod prefers photogs to be so out of sight that they are practically out of the building. I once quipped to photog handlers that I imagined the next time he played the MC we would indeed need to be shooting from the street outside HSBC Arena.

All in all, a good photo op.
Happy Obama jetted here, he's now in the Shiney Apple - assuredly not eating fast and non-flash food.

Obama Love.

A Tale of Two Border Guards.

In the past month or so Yours Truly has crossed the U.S.A.-Canadian border, moving from alleged democracy to dominion for a piece for the Shiney Happy Mag.
The piece's gist is that the Niagara Falls, New York experience surpasses that to be had on the not-twinned Niagara Falls, Ontario.

Much is always made of the difference between the two sides, and it's generally believed that the U.S. side is tragic, the American side of the falls a sad stone's throw from a very dismal inner city, a former city's downtown and governmental businesses razed for the sake of Urban Renewal.

Then, if the hype is to be believed, the Canadian side is thee place to celebrate the Falls with a wider, better view and with more distractions and attractions.

For shits, giggles and Your erudition, I'll paste in my 1K piece for the SHM.
It's only 1K, read the damned thing, and then YT will present the story of the other border guard, as the first border guard encountered that crossing day figures prominently in the piece, at its beginning.

The Mightiest Multi-Waterfall Experience: NFNY
Story and Photos: Nancy J. Parisi

When asked the purpose of my last trip to Canada by the border services officer with the bad-ass moustache/mirrored sunglasses pairing I opted for full disclosure: “I’m doing a story comparing the two Niagara Falls experiences.” The officer, voice escalating, asked “Where do you start?” “By focusing on the positive aspects of both,” I replied. Our exchange continued with the officer, obviously believing me journalistically misguided, describing (with a wave of his hand to whatever awaited me to his left) the abundance of attractions on this side of the river. “Niagara Falls, New York has been boarded up for thirty years, there’s nothing there. Good luck,” he sneered, handing back my passport card.

What I could not, or would not, tell the border services officer is that I’ve already formed my opinions about what the divergent Niagara Falls experiences have to offer, and was merely here to confirm. Whereas Niagara Falls, Ontario serves up what might be best described as a Vegas-like way to view all three of the Falls (American, Horseshoe, Bridal), Niagara Falls, New York allows one the experience of Cataracts viewing in a more natural, and immediate manner.

This estimation was cemented within me a number of years ago when commissioned by an American publication founded by Europeans (with strong Euro-leanings) to make magnificent/decrepit editorial images that illustrated the very same belief of the aforementioned border patrol officer. I made images on both sides of the Falls showing what a visitor can and does do at this official natural world wonder.

By the end of the assignment I found the Canadian Falls experience, despite the manicured and perfectly-paved pathways, to be rather distanced. When walking alongside Niagara River Parkway–and its six lanes of traffic–near this watery hub, the gaze is toward the water but there is little green space within which to enjoy this viewing: pedestrians walk along pavement and, when needing sustenance, head uphill to a number of restaurants, taverns, and curiosity shops. There are strips of gardens right at the brink (with some souvenirs and refreshments tucked in), but there is little feeling of danger, or interactivity. The waterfalls, while all in view within one postcard-perfect expanse, are remote.

Niagara Falls, New York, by contrast, features miles of hiking alongside the Falls, as well as in woods on pathways encircling and crisscrossing Goat Island, Three Sisters Islands, and toward Prospect Point. If visiting Goat Island remember to look for the large bronze statue of the inventor Nikola Tesla (all about transformers, generators, and, quite possibly, the father of wi-fi), captured mid-reading. Visitors are frequently photographed sitting on Tesla’s lap, on top of his papers.

The Upper Rapids, spectacular year-round, are lovely to visit as a preamble to the supercharged ionized air and rumblings of the Falls. I like to show visitors the Upper Rapids first, letting them walk toward them without introduction, to witness the power of the water before the Falls, to feel the power without guardrails–a bit of grass and brush separating their body from millions of gallons of charging water.

Both sides of the Falls have parking that costs $10. On the American side parking is much closer to the attraction at hand; both sides have transportation if needed. Illustrating the difference between American and Canadian sides are the public viewing apparatuses: on the American side a viewing may be purchased for a quarter whereas the Canadian side (with viewers resembling Brancusi sculptures) has viewing for $1.00 for “single time,” $2 for “double time.”

At the time of this writing Niagara USA Visitor Center, representing all of Niagara County (not just the Falls), had relocated temporarily to the former Niagara Club that is under new ownership. Their new, mod headquarters will be at halcyon 10 Rainbow Boulevard–cataracts are to mist as mist is to rainbows … despite any urban blight in proximity.

A three-year enthusiastic employee there, David, was busy advising tourists about nearby attractions, pointing to a hand-out map: “Number 11 is an IMAX-style movie about the Falls, and lasts 40 minutes, number 14 are the contraptions that people made to go over the Falls, and this is the historical wax museum, the daredevil museum is free, and here is our small aquarium–but they have penguins.”

The two tourist couples didn’t share David’s enthusiasm for penguins, but they were keen on heading to Maid of the Mist for some short-term boating and up-close Falls viewing. They were not planning on crossing the border, due to passport issues. I asked David which side of the Falls are more busy and without hesitation he stated “the Canadian side, of course.” He adds that he talks to people all day about what to do at Niagara Falls and that sometimes, if visitors have been to the Canadian side first, they comment on the park setting of the American side. “They enjoy the park itself,” he says, “and the Falls.”

Living less than twenty miles away from the Falls, and having grown up upstream from this wonder, it’s easy to forget how to distill the experience of viewing all of this without political/socio-economic trappings. Distilled down, Niagara Falls remains a mostly-unspoiled, not over-developed viewing.

Of course urban renewal and the like destroyed what was thriving albeit problematic Niagara Falls, New York. What remains is a wonder, a park, a ring of acceptable restaurants, some faltering businesses, and beyond some inner-city neighborhoods. Despite the condition of what is nearby, people are traveling there to be enthralled, to be fed, to take home a reminder of their enthrallment.

Just disembarked from Maid of the Mist, and walking toward The Great Lakes Gardens beyond the visitor center, Kathryn Craig and Dan Craig of Rochester, New York, gush about their visit to N.F., N.Y. This is the premier Falls visit for both and they vow to return with their children, and grandchildren.

Dan says “we’ve got High Falls at home, and we are amazed at how big this is, High Falls is one-eighth of what this is.” “I loved it, I want to come back,” Kathryn exalts. The two have no plans to cross the border to see the other side, pleased enough with this experience. They’re spending the night at a nearby hotel, celebrating Kathryn’s birthday. Their jubilance is inspiring.

So the other border guard, encountered whilst crossing back.
He's about half the age - or so - of the snarly Canadian border guard, and he's got a shaved head and is wearing Prada sunglasses.
As I pull up to his booth, just after the Queenston-Lewiston bridge, I ask if he can please give me directions to Location X.
Without raising an eyebrow he goes online and Google Map's my directions.
After I've handed him the passport card I ask if he acquired his sunglasses at the nearby Duty Free. No, he says, my girlfriend bought them for me.
So after brief discussion about sunglasses, and directions, I'm off, him handing me my passport card saying Don't forget this - as if YT was about to leave it atop a ginmill's bar.

Onward I drove, onward I wrote.

Onward to More, Love.

Zen of Shoes, and Cheese.

Utterly minding my own business, doing The Google to find out about an org whose membership is lady business owners, I chanced upon this shoe, the Nabu fashioned by Tsubo.
What self-respecting urban(e) girl wouldn't wish to add this model to her creation.
I ask.
What's not shown in this photo is the sling-back feature and contrasting black of the heel.
A triumph.

Also on the burners is in-process design of a t-shirt to be featured in my cafepress.com shop - OptionG.
This will be for the ladies manning my Stim Girls Photo Booth at Artists & Models - dubbed Stimulus this year.
Always oso pithy, the theme is meant to artfully and intelligently encompass the worlds of pop, media, import, newsiness.
If the minds behind Hallwalls (Ed/Polly/John/Carolyn et al) were to name the large-scale fete today would they take a cue from that pesky volcano shutting down Euro airworks which has little FlorAdorable stranded in France.
That could be one of the new daydreams of Yours Truly: to be stranded in France.
Thoughts run, bien sur, automatically to cheese/fromage.

Speaking of such, KatherineGS sent YT an inspiring Roz Chast sheet of cheese-based recipes.
Sample platter.
Cheese Patties - 6 lb. soft cheese. Form cheese into patties. Serve on a bun. Makes enough for 12 patties.
&
Cheese Pick-Me-Up - 1/2 cup water, 1 lb. Brie. Put everything in blender at a high speed. Serve immediately. Just enough for one.
Magnifique.

This past week went to LGG's pre-CEPA Auction cocktail party (arrived late due to a rare non-accident Middling City traffic jam created by the arrival and lecture by Jane Goodall at Canisius College) and amongst others talked to Judy, the purchaser of YT's piece in the last CEPA Auction two years ago - it being of biennial variety.
Judy, it should be noted, won the piece (a triumph made in The Shiney Apple, an iconic piece of YT's, it must be said) and then had instant buyer's freak-out regret and tried to pass it off to dear Annie.
In the end, Judy not only embraced the piece and displays it proudly in her home, but traveled to The Shiney Apple to locate the origins, the original sign featured in the piece.
When I next saw Judy she showed me her documentation of the sign featured, and the small adhesive bandage stuck to the sign that YT liked very much. YT was ever so slightly surprised that Judy removed the bandage, and saved it.

Nancy, I want you to know an additional part of the story un regards to Gramercy Park. I copied the quote that was on back of the photo and framed that! "love flowers. Love cities."I do love the photo ( both yours and mine). So glad I drank the wine and bid on it! See you next weekend. Judy

My photo Gramercy Park Sign, Flowers shown in Judy's image alongside my framed backside quote.
Judy's doc of the sign in situ at right - with different Gramercy Park plantings, bandage still affixed.

Back to The Shiney Apple soon for more making, doing, walking.
High on priority list, besides ASMP event, is work by those in the Whitney Biennial (including Jessica Hutchins's), Marina Abramović, and oso much more.

In situ Love.

Character - and Character - Analysis.

1.
Character foremost is blazing one of the Middling City, its essence, the thing that makes it unmistakably the MC.
Yours Truly is working on a series, a personal project for possible and probable inclusion in a forthcoming exhibit: Buffalo the Beautiful.
The above image might be in the show - or one like it.
It's an early morning encounter, driving down Elmwood Avenue (this not being the Shiney Apple the downs and ups are not stringently applied - down is south, whereas up is north so a drive from North to Allen, for example, is down and herein YT rests her case), with the sun-shafted bubbles streaming out of the window of Bubble Man who lives at Elmwood and Allen.
As I told Burly Font, this image collection is meant to rustle together some Perfectly positive images of the MC, I mean the Beautiful Buffalo.
BF and I have a tentative date to make images at the same time on a foray into the Grain Elevator District.

2.
A few weeks back YT photographed a man who is a leading international star in the mysterious realm of polygraphy.
Being YT, YT, more minding not only my own business, as is my constant wont, but in that moment the business of mine, the character/subject, the client, and the piece of Haydn playing on the hi-fi as I worked.
Part of the gig of making portraits is finding a means of connecting visually and humanistically to the matter/subject/character at hand so questions and statements and such are bandied about.
Being in the company of a polygraph artist thoughts and questions naturally quickly turned to sociopaths and the like.
Had the character in front of the lens of YT wired up and tested sociopaths, and, if so, how many and did he think that some people were simply born bad.
He claims to have interviewed/tested thousands of sociopaths and other nogoodniks and does believe that some are born with no scruples.
I asked if he could always tell a liar.
And pondered if I had been telling any lies or fibs to this man.
But I had not, so had nothing to fear, like a telltale twitch of the chin, or other somesuch clue.
The polygraph character said No, I cannot always tell if someone is lying.
But the machine, he says, is another matter.
He's rewritten the book, a five-pound book (this is true, wire me up if You don't believe me) about submitting the test in a more effective manner.
YT hopes indeed to never have to be polygraph tested.
By this character, or any.

Love of Character Analysis - 101, 201, 301, or perhaps even 401.

Patty Hearst Society.

Caution: written with fingertips dripping acid, read with caution.

The image above, whilst fresh as the sonic reverberations rolling off of Pink Floyd's world-rollicking Dark Side of the Moon, inspired Yours Truly to go up to her harried and stalwart mother and query thusly: Mom, can I get a pea coat.
Mom: No.
And that was the end of that.
Until, years later, revered Gramma Vickie sent along a pea coat, up from Georgia, reading the mind (as she often did) of her eldest granddaughter.
It was rust color.
Close enough.
It was worn gleefully with that socialite-turned-captive-turned-fashion-icon in mind.
Commuted by Jimmy Carter.
And pardoned by Bill Clinton, the other recent presidential lefty.

The current lefty signing off on the historical Healthcare Bill with no less than twenty pens.
Twenty.
YT has witnessed signings of all genres but never one with that number of pens.
Five, maybe.
Twenty, not yet.
And YT would like to state that this change, in my Perfect and humble op, is for the better as now the lesser evil of health insurance influences (the government and its attendant interests) will prevail over that of the insurance companies themselves.

In the past few weeks YT has learned of two very good friends' cancers, as well as a few other tragedies under the header of Health.
The one friend, diagnosed with Stage IV colon cancer, is off to an alternative therapy venue in the wild state of Texas, and the other, diagnosed with breast cancer, is being operated upon this week.
The former is uninsured for what she believes will save her life, and a benefit is being planned to help her with her Hope.
The latter is insured.
And lucky.
Another friend is going bankrupt lying in a hospital bed, uninsured.
Another friend is not going bankrupt, diagnosed and operated upon with cancer, in Canada where OHIP covers healthcare in a reasonable manner.

YT has lit more than a few large white candles lately to help in a wishful, Japanese Buddhist wishes-tied-to-trees manner, those who need it.
And bending the ear of one departed Nelson Baker to see just what he can do.

YT, walking the marbled walkways of The Basilica of former steel town Lackawanna with my Art/Life Mentor who is of no religious persuasion save Art and past family Jewish origins, knew far more about the curriculum than I.
YT knew of candles, wishes, and the miraculous remains of Nelson Baker.
! Blood Perfectly preserved after decades.
Whereas Art/Life Mentor knew fine details.
Or, maybe like tap dancing class, YT just wishes to rewrite the story to her own Perfect liking.

Perfect liking, Love.

Parades. I really really love them. Really.

Yours Truly, completely minding my own parade-related business, meandered through the mean streets of the Middling City's Old First Ward to collect up some pixels documenting the annual real Saint Patrick parade.
Whereas the other MC Irish parade centers on throngs, silly string, and a too-long cavalcade of seemingly every org/club/wolfhound/Celt/saint/union in the vicinity, the OFW version is short, sweet, and in a much more photogenic setting - trees and homes in lieu of businesses.
Plus there is the matter of backlighting - the Sunday/Delaware/Elongated parade is peskily backlit as it heads from south to north. The light is diffused but there are moments when it would be much more photographically pleasing to have the whole kaboodle marching in the opposite direction - YT thinks the parading feng shui would be much more right on.

So this above image rather fits in to my ongoing Girls with Guns series. But the other images show girls holding faux rifles, usually painted white. This gun appears on the ground, as if thrown post-armed robbery.



Big big parade news in the MC was that the powers that be allowed for the premier time a group of openly homosexual marchers to march.
So despite the fact that YT could no longer feel her hands or feet YT marched along con brio down the avenue to meet the gay Saint marchers on the crest of the bridge that spans from Ward to Valley.

A triumph.

Parades should be all-accepting as they're usually for some higher purpose or cause - holiday, nation, victory.
One year at the Delaware version of this saint parade YT cried as some high school marching band musicians were harangued by a group of terrifying drunk white loser men.
And YT hoped that these children didn't hear these taunts over their music.

This was the first year that I did not cry at a parade - not sure if this is another triumph.

My favoured YT-Sobbing-at-Parade story is me at the age of twenty-something when I stayed at the rowhouse near Columbia, owned by Columbia, off of Amsterdam, and watching a lovely short and sweet neighborhood parade bobble by, as I held a piece of pizza on a paper plate, tears dropping all over the slice.

The End.

Sliced, tearing, jubilant, parading Love.

NSC in NJ

Yours Truly, NJ, as You well know, is in NJ.
That well-rounded literal-type irony, is appreciated.
What is not appreciated, YT can tell You, in this moment, is the lady to YT's left who decided that YT's dinner/snack of so-called green tea sushi in a joint that promises spiritual accomplishment and perhaps omigosh (as MAD mag lovingly put it) - Samsara - the parfum and goal of champeens the world over, was her hors d'oeuvre.
(NJ accent) O my gawd, I am so embarrassed, to quote.
YT, ever so empathetic, downplayed the faux pas and even insisted this NJ insurance saleslady enjoy one more piece of said green tea tidbit.
And now, good karma in hand, chardonnay in brain, good will in heart, traipses off to photo lecture at photo conference with thee David Burnett.
YT = fan.
It is ever so refreshing to have heroes.
Time to extricate myself from Samsara/sushi curio with Db's-a-blarin' and head off to higher learning of all things pixel.

Higher Pixel Learned Love, Love.

Another Perfect One from Accidental Frame Series.

First item on Perfect Docket is that Yours Truly gleefully acquired the drawing table of Late Great Jackie Felix, artist.
YT had been searching on & off for a drawing table for some time, always thwarted by the thought of said drawing table showing up at the studio doors in a FLAT box. Meaning: 500 loose parts, an enclosed allen wrench, and a bevy of tears ... and heartache. Until a rescue operation, as happened with the on-sale elliptical a few years ago.
Thankfully, my patient parents came to the rescue and two hours later voilà - elliptical.

Went to Jackie's studio with LBC and perused her still-full studio teeming with works on paper of all sizes.
Separated top and bottom of drawing table, paid for it, and swept it away into its new creative h.q.
Actually feel the aura of Jackie on it, and know it will inspire the toppermost creative energies to fall out onto the paper at hand.

Speaking of hand, set up next hand model for the next new piece.
And ordered Kat a framed print of the piece that she posed for oso patiently - Flame Hand.

Put in proposal for the next Artists & Models, dubbed Stimulus.
YT's piece, ever-interactive and still incorporating the sale of now-extinct, rare, and precious Polaroids, will be chock full of live Stim Girls, and exuberance.
As is my A&M wont.
I wrote to Polly at HW yesterday that YT has taken part of all but two A&M, and was present as a happy spectator at the first.

YT received a generous grant via NPPA to attend the next Northern Short Course in New Brunswick, NJ.
Ever so excited, it's a wondrous thing to swim amongst one's colleagues and talk shop, pixels,lenses and oso much more for days.
And it's been a long while since YT took on the role of Conventioneer.

Pixel Swim Love.

Flame Hand.

This piece is oso brand new, Flame Hand.
As is my wont, as is my cannot-get-into-studio-mode wont, made a sketch first of the piece and then made it concrete.
Actually, made it with not concrete but one hour's worth of gluing flower petals to Kat's hand - after deconstructing an expanse of Gerber daisies.

CEPA biennial auction happens on April 24th and the section of their site devoted to the biennial hoopla is as lovely as the pub of same purpose.

There is another work in the works and that hand model is reserved. Now waiting for the right flowers to come along. May have to grow them myself, as I did for the exhibition that I had in Olean - hands + all flowers homemade.

Time to make, do, and wend into a late-winter wet snow flaking around the Middling City, desperately, in the op of Yours Truly, needing some fresh new white layers.

Layered Snowy Love.

Sunshine and Windburn.

Totally minding my own art-making business I have become completely windburnt tromping about the Shiney Apple.

Sad to learn yesterday of the passing of poet Gabrielle, a firey spirit who has left this stage too soon. It is a strange modern thing looking at one's FB page and seeing such life, then the slowing down of life, one's last update, and then the sympathetic words from friends.

There is a collection of new images in the little Leica that Yours Truly is happy with, and these might end up in print, on a wall, being the art apple of someone's eye.

That is the hope.

Saw former Middling City residents Dorota, Jason, Justy, and Gretchen yesterday for fun. Gretchen's work was hanging in a building in DUMBO and her work is truly lovely with branches on some pieces reaching out like a partially-captured, handmade forest sample.

Walking through the various galleries Justy and I met up with a gallery owner who he does business with, who was inquiring about making digital files of Robert Frank originals in front of him on his desk - one quite lovely, a compilation of fill stills from a short film made in Nova Scotia.

That is part of the partial magic of yesterday.

More forthcoming.

Forthcoming More Love.

Happy, Spicy.

Could Yours Truly, completely minding her own art-making & looking beeswax on the right side of the Empire State, be any happier this very moment.
I think not.
Firstly, the pesky man who sat alongside me at beloved Café Habana has finally left.
After the several furtive raised eyebrow-raises between me, corner eater (in MY spot), and barista.
He took a few smoke breaks, again to more raised eyebrows.
The last lasting so long that there was speculation between staffers if he might return.
A glance down Prince Street revealed that he of ruddy face and gape-mouthed eating was indeed just a few yards further along the street.
His stare burrowed holes into the left side of my face.
And, as I told the adorable barista, I had to replace my shuffle back atop my reading head to not hear any more sluicing of foodstuffs in his mouth.
And, because of this eater, YT is embarking on yet another new YT-crafted enterprise: Extreme Table Manners Makeover.
This show will be on the road, and will be a slightly different, probably as soon-to-be viral as the dude who documents the disgusting on subways.
After a court of law determined that his bloggings-on about his fellow I think N Train riders was constitutional YT imagines yet more lemmings will attempt to cash in on this reality television show that is life - at times.
But of course YT really intends ETMM as a public service more than anything else.

YT is here in the Shiney Apple to make art.
YT is here to find art.
YT is here to look.
And think.
This is what is called a freelancer's vacation - grabbed when possible.
And working on the road.
And coming up with making-over ops.

Onward to the museum where the mother of YT was wounded two summers ago on trip with YT - New Museum - to see some conceptual work by one Urs Fischer.
Mirrors, body parts, wack scales of objets - a recipe for titillation.

Onwards.

Artful, enterprising Love.

Toxic White Crap @ Co-Op

Egads.

Yours Truly, minding her own subset of business at the co-op, was shocked - shocked - to see a mound of mini marshmallows resembling a mound of mushrooms or somesuch other type of mold emerging from a chafing dish.
YT was getting some morning coffee and to the left was this assemblage of toxic sugar crap, an ill-advised topping for sweet potatoes.
YT loves sweet potatoes and would never top them in such a manner.
A little curry powder, yes.

Was contacted today by NN regarding my image of the candlelight vigil at Merge, for usage on the Buffalo Rising site.
Of course I was happy to oblige.
I will be donating a small new piece to a benefit for Merge and the family of the boy who was killed on Monday - an appropriate piece that is, quite literally, about Love.

Also donating to the CEPA auction, as is my historical wont.
This year is the tenth of this biennial incarnation.

Time to make, do, and make much joy via pixels.

Love of Love, Love.

Frogs, and Rainbows.

Yesterday, minding my own business, as is my steadfast wont, at a gig at the Middling City's dank City Hall, I spotted a field of green.
Specifically, it was a florescent, deep office on one of four hallways to left and right, east and west off the main lobby.
Searching for more individuals doing photographically-interesting things for a publication, I spied the field of green.
I meandered into the office and asked a woman back by the windows who collected the hundreds of stuffed and statuesque frogs.
Her daughter, she told me, many years earlier, had bought her a frog figurine for Valentine's Day. And so began her hobby.
This is a recurring theme of collectors - sometimes it all began with a gift from well-meaning someone.
So now all the clients she sees in her City Hall office, she says, bring her all kinds of frogs.
There was one made out of coal, a stuffed one that a client kissed so that she'd meet a prince, and frogs of all shades of green - and various sizes.
The vibe in the office was light, happy even, a far cry from the adjacent hallway where cold, dark chairs line the walls as individuals await their time in dreaded traffic court.

Speaking of such, Yours Truly received in the mail this week my suitable-for-framing, green certificate from Driver Improvement Program.

Last night drove up to Rainbow Rollerskating Rink for a triad of birthday party - with three other roller chicks.
Veni, vidi, rolli, and after the onslaught of dance music from the 80s and early 90s there was some cake, conviviality, and an onsite bouncehouse.
Once some pesky children cleared out of the bouncehouse, I suggested to Sherry it would be a primo op to bounce, not roll.
So bounce we did.
And this will, as I predicted, be an excellent addition to my plans, hopes, and dreams of having a Perfect 10/10/10 celebration.

Perfect, bouncing Love.

Newbies: 10 10x10 for 1/10 Show

This past Friday, 1/8/10 (luckiest numbers of Yours Truly are 18, and 10 so this was an auspicious date), made some new work with the handy help of hand model Heady - a good-natured beast ever so patient with requests to soften a thumb, to hold arms up in an awkward position so that the light (photons, as we say in the photo trade) may work its magic.

The final result is a suite of ten, for a show at the end of this month at Studio Hart, curated by Molly Jarboe and also with collaborative pieces by Lisa & Andrew - pomes in print and picture.

The images are black & white, each printed as 10x10. No glass, they're printed on durable material and loving the accessibility/immediacy.

Artful Jubilant Love.

"Taking Santa to Connecticut"

Having holly jollies.
This Holiday card rendition, made on the last magical trip to the Shiney Apple.
Magical Love.

Driver Improvement Program (D.I.P.)

Yours Truly plunged into Driver Improvement Program passionately, with gusto, yesterday. For threefold reasons:
1. Point reduction.
2. 10% off car insurance for several years.
3. A suitable-for-framing certificate, to appear in the mail, allegedly, in six weeks.

Notes from yesterday, thirteen pages in the nice little gray moleskin that's been to the Shiney Apple.

Driver Improvement School.
12.19.09

With the spirit, or in the spirit, of journalism, reportage, I show up at D.I.P. in Hamburg along with seventeen other sullen individuals.
Everyone seems to be between the ages of 25-55.
(Final attendance count 22 total, 17 women.)

Instructor D:
Break 10 min. morning.
Break 10 min. afternoon.
45 minutes for lunch.

In case of emergency, like if the boiler blows up, go out the same way that you came in.

Me and the girl to my right (in gray cowl neck sweater), laugh.
Nobody else laughs at the thought of the boiler blowing up but Cowl Neck Girl tells me that she will commence praying for its demise.

(YT leaves coat on. How shaky is this Hamburg Town Hall boiler situation.)

(page 2)
Complicated directions about filling out form - press hard to make four legible copies in for Town Clerk.
10% off collision and
4 points off.
6 weeks from time Court Clerk sends form until we get our certificates.

Woman to my left reeks of ...
Vodka? Literine? Rum?

Instructor D:
You'll take many courses in your life but this is the only one that will possibly save your life.

(YT scans back all grad school, college, high school, elementary school courses and is fairly certain those attendant life skills and life lessons gleaned could is some direct or indirect manner saved the life of YT.)

Page 4, turn to, questions we may have about driving in general.



(page 3)
Any questions about driving, Instructor D asks.

Listerine Lady =
Who has right-of-way in a roundabout.

(We are currently situated about one hundred feet from one of Hamburg's famed roundabouts, not to be confused at all with the double helix death machine on Harlem Road just outside Middling City.)

YT asks Instructor D about how long one should stop at a stop sign.

(This is, in sooth, why YT is here in the first place - a special birthday surprise from an overzealous officer of the law in Hamburg who noted that YT hesitated after a stop sign, checking left and right to see in which direction one might chance upon the MC. Hesitation is weakness and officer pounced.)

Instructor D:
Full cessation of movement, not a Hamburg stop, rolling 10 m.p.h. through a stop.

Cowl Neck girl is suddenly rocking herself.
(She will continue rocking the remaining several hours, apparently rocking herself to consolation.)

(Max. occupancy 52 persons)

Instructor D:
Use caution
(Instructor D rides a motorcycle.)
Some officers want to be hotdogs, and make a name for themselves.



(page 4)
Cowl Neck Girl, after Instructor D asks who thinks they are good drivers says she's a good driver because she's Cautious.

I had also raised my hand so Instructor D asks me. I say I'd take Cowl Neck Girl's answer to another level, to raise it to the level of paranoia.

Instructor D's eyes widen noticeably.

I give examples of things I see every day driving in Buffalo.

(YT mentions people driving through red lights, a near-daily sight, and people driving the wrong way down one-way streets - a weekly sight.)

Most people will be in six accidents.



(page 5)
Instructor D mentions compassion.

(YT likes this very much.)

Doing everything reasonable.
Personal responsibility.
In driving there is not front of the line.

Dim, truck-driving girl tells a story after Instructor D asks who was recently in an accident.

When I was in Buffalo, near downtown, she begins, near that bridge (she means the Peace Bridge), the guy in front of us hit slush, slid into us and we ended up in oncoming traffic.

(It's only 9:40 a.m.)

The heartbeat of this whole course is_____anticipation.

VIDEO!



(page 6)
Instructor D:
Surgery, like driving, is a full-time job.



(page 7)
(Inspired by some artwork commissioned by National Safety Council, YT draws a four-part diagram (to be scanned later) showing eye/ear/nose/hand.
It represents, iconically, the senses, the four things that we need as defensive drivers.



(page 8)
It's now 10:16 a.m.

Now it's 10:35 a.m.

There was just much discussion about tractor-trailers and amount of time it takes to stop–
my question.
CDL (that's Commercial Driver License to You, oh uninitiated, non-D.I.P. person) guy who drives for UPS he, in Ohio, hauls three trailers sometimes and it takes him five miles to stop.

(Really, YT wants to ask, five freakin' miles.)

VIDEO.



(page 9)
Instructor D looks at clock above where Town Justice would sit – it's now 11:13 a.m.

It's 11:34 a.m.


The criminal-looking boy to the left is drawing interlocking hearts.

3 on top – with shadow.
2 on bottom – with haloes.




(page 10)
1:26
How Ilio DiPaolo died – fused ankle bone hit by Chevy Chevette on a June night, torrential rain.

He gimped along, Instructor D states.
He died.

Then, how a cow was killed
by a motorcyclist.



(page 11)
1:35 p.m.
VIDEO.

YT makes Instructor D laugh again
1:52 p.m.
by telling him example of
speeding excuses.
QEW, me passed by other vehicles – how that excuse
didn't work.
(chuckle)

risk of death.



(page 12)



(page 13)
Reasons vs. Excuses


+
And therein lies the documentation of D.I.P.
After page 13, after approximately 1:45, after the class of 22 voted to forge onward and not take an afternoon break, it became obvious that the remainder of the course, post-lunch and under the micro-bursts of flourescent light, would drag on in a seemingly interminable manner.
And YT, ever being a student most diligent, wished to show respect to Instructor D who really is a kind and serious man.
YT thanked him on the way out as we all laid our evaluation sheets in front of him.
Overall - Excellent
Instructor - Excellent
And onwards.

Compassionate, Self-regarding, Driving Love.

TWA @ JFK

Minding my own business, as is my wont, made this image upon landing at The JFK and looking across at the vintage TWA terminal whilst waiting for Ellie's ride who would be carting Yours Truly into the Shiney Apple.
A snap, and a snap, and then a man in day-glo security vest approached YT to say that it was absolutely not alright to make any images of the TWA terminal.
YT was most surprised and asked the question that officers of all genres the world over are always indeed equally shocked to hear - Are you kidding.
No, he was not kidding.
So here is this image, made during the last art-seeking foray, and holiday card image making.
The image made and about to be mailed out embraces both serendipity, and the lighter side of the season.

YT just accepted a slot on Hilbert College's Board of Professional Advisors for their Digital Media and Communication for the next eighteen months.
Always happy to help disseminate all info of the dig variety.

Time to wend to Sweetness 7 for the YT-crafted Motown Holiday Feast from 7-10. Proceeds to a family in need on the west side.
Baked two varieties of cornbread, with buttermilk, for when does one get to pour a whole quart of buttermilk.

Love of Giving.

New Museum - And the Whiff of Irony

In the inbox of yesterday came an advisory and gift suggestion from New Gallery on The Bowery - a first aid kit.
This is absolutely ironic as in the Summer of '08, while there with my beloved parents on a three-day arts and Resto Week extravaganza, my mother slipped and fell in New Museum and what was a lovely visit turned into something from the story boards of The Three Stooges.
My mother fell on their slippery concrete steps.
I saw the fall and ran to her, and instantly knew she'd broken something - from the angle (photogs get angles, amongst other fine points), and from having broken bones and experiencing that post-fall flu-like symptoms sensation.
I rushed to the so-called concession counter for some ice to make an ice pack.
There was no ice.
I was told that there was ice up on the top floor, off a conference room.
Can you get some, I queried.
Alerted by YT, a staff member went in search of A FIRST AID KIT and came up with nothing.
Finally a custodian showed up with some ice in a plastic bag, and a stretchy bandage was located.
There were no accident report forms and a half-sheet of paper was what was provided for information about the facts of the accident.
A get-into-New-Museum-free pass was handed to my mother, who promptly handed it to me.
My mother refused to go to the hospital, and (probably in shock) insisted she was alright, and we flew out later that night after a light dinner.
The next day she went to the hospital, was casted, went through weeks of physical therapy.
So now New Museum has created (rather ridiculous) first aid kits for renewing and new members.
Can't wait to tell my mom this later at the fam feast.

Just back from cheering onwards this year's thousands of Turkey Trotters, coffee in one hand, and a small and enthusiastic dog in the other.
Some stopped to pet said caninus fervidus, nobody (thankfully) wished to sip my coffee.

First call du jour:
Me - (sitting at laptop, looking over news, Googling Starbucks Elmwood then dialing)
Starbucks Employee - Hello, Starbucks, this is (blank), how may I help you?
Me - Hello? You're open? Thank god.
Starbucks Employee - Yup. (mumble)
Me - Bye.
Starbucks Employee - Goodbye!

Today is the birth anniversary of bon vivant/wise woman Gramma Vickie, and that of cousin MJ - of same creds.
What did these two share.
Yours Truly will tell you - the much-admired, oft-compelling trait of candour.
YT grew up in gorgeous Gramma Vickie-made frocks, with dolls in same, spending long springs or summers down south in Atlanta with Victoria and Ed and their magical garden of tropical lushness.

Ever-thankful for the ability to be thankful, gratitude the foundation for all.
Love, Thanks, Cheers.

The Shazam Project.

The latest in a series of Perfect Ideas Crafted by Yours Truly: The Shazam Project.

I just recently unveiled this to Deb who liked it enough, but YT realized the patter, the sell, must be improved upon for this Perfect Idea/Project to soar, to tantalize like a well-lit Vegas buffet.
Although, ultimately, more healthful and satisfying than said buffet.

The Shazam Project, for proponents of the iPhone and the app Shazam (and other, lesser smarty-pants phones):
Look at the ten last Shazamed songs on your iPhone.
Purchase, download, and burn them onto ten discs.
Share and/or swap discs with ten friends.

My own ten, presently, are:
- I Feel Love, Donna Summer.
- Stereo, John Legend
- Takin' Care of Business, BTO
- Dream Weaver, Gary Wright (longtime guilty pleasure, had to Shazam it in a 21st-C move to ownership)
- Sometime Around Midnight, The Airborne Toxic Event
- Last Parade, Matthew Good
- Berenice: Cadrò, Ma Qual Si Mira, Cecilia Bartoli
- Situation, Yazoo
- He Loves Me, Jill Scott
- Imma Be, The Black Eyed Peas.

Now that is a Perfect blend.
Time to wend toward the hallowed halls of art moderne for a meeting of brunch minds.

Shazam. Love. Burnt.

Color me pun intentional, and color me quite transfixed by this image made by Yours Truly that was once believed - wrongheadedly - to be better as black & white.
What the photon freak was YT thinking.
This is a sublime image in color.
And therein lies a happy, lovely discovery of today whilst applying in a somewhat delightful, frenzied half-assed artist fashion for a NYFA grant.
When YT got to the part about "Have you ever applied to this here federal arts awarding confection" YT got all flustered, not recalling if it was a yay - or nay.
So I said No.

My art statement was a blistering rendition and retooling of another arts statement of not too long ago. This time it seemed important to mention two of my huge influences in the special extra bonus cultural section - Ana Mendieta and Maya Lin.

Onwards.

Time to make and do some more.
Time to revel in that special energy that puts the bon in bon vivant - and head to Hallwalls for a nice evening of something raucous and experimentally jazz.

Onwards, Love - in heady arts statements and oso much more.