dedication

Once upon a time I stopped
long enough
to look over my shoulder
to see the boys
I had taught
who stayed in touch
had become
teachers, artists
and soldiers.

A great big thank you to all the people who supported me in the show, many of whom are pictured/mentioned in my last two entries.
Special thanks to Nancy Hofstadter of the Meeting Center and to John LaRocca of the Rensselaerville Institute who were crucial to the creation of the exhibit.

Finally, a little explanation and a dedication that were posted at the gallery, for those who couldn't make it:

genesis
two years ago, the ties began
with my desire
to use words of great thinkers to
counteract the bombardment of
contemporary rhetoric on the senses.

early summer 2007
masks were shaped
to expand upon themes of character and identity
begun with the ties.

installations
were made, paying homage to
Seven Samurai, incorporating
traditional Japanese materials:
paper, fabric, bamboo.

convergence
late summer 2007
a former student
brought to my attention a blog entry
on MySpace written by a helicopter pilot in Iraq.
The pilot, also my former student,
cited words I had given him some
seventeen years ago
that he remembered
in the desert.

winter 2008
the story continues to evolve
with subsequent correspondence.
threads of this story and
of our lives tie the elements
of this exhibit together.

proof
beneath façade,
time casts an
invisible net of thought,
feeling, presence, truth
that binds us together.

dedicated
to Captain Brian Michael Olmstead USMC
and to all once and future warriors.

oo la la opening! part II

More Beautiful People
at the opening


illuminated by candlelight


and the light in Laura's eyes
looking at her little guy.


Guest fixated on repast by Gustav across the room...


..on the beautiful basket of pan! The picos and tortas were magníficos,
a perfect accompaniment to the amazing Spanish cheeses.
(p.s. he practices his magic at Honest Weight Food Coöp in Albany NY.)


Detail of main course, by yours truly: hand-painted tie, quotation by Martin Luther King, Jr.: "Human salvation lies in the hands of the creatively maladjusted."
Took many orders for this one! (Sorry, Robert reserved the original long ago.)


John viewing the exhibit and modeling one of my ties from his collection.


Robert, photog nonpareil, tie collector and supportive friend, posing avec moi while Nancy snaps away. Thank you, Nancy and Robert, for capturing the memories for me!


Crasher.

oo la la opening! part I

This was the seen scene at the Guggenheim Gallery of the Rensselaerville Meeting Center, Rensselaerville NY last weekend, February 10th from 2-4 p.m. for my opening of "Inside Out", mixed-media installation show.

tiki girls

Thank goodness and hallelujah for the Whitemans, they are troupers, but then we knew that from their star power and stage credits.
Extreme thanks to Beth, Robert, Sophie, Ellie, and to Nancy and John LaRocca for all showing up early and staying late to help.

Beth and I:



Nancy arrives.


Gustav's feast, it was to die for, he is puro genio.



one of the boys on the wall...



The Beautiful People, as photo-op'd by Robert...



(Little did the unsuspecting revelers know that the world outside was under siege; a white-out caused several groups of people trying to make it, back down the mountain. Well, we all found out when we departed in Everest-like conditions a couple of hours later, yikes! Glad everyone made it off the mountain safely.)



Thanks to all the Beautiful People
and Beautiful Kids who graced the show.







Party, on.

...to be continued in part II

sneak peek

just a quick one, of my show.





who are these masked men?

the show must

...and on it goes.



lo siento, 'my bad...was AWOL due to birthing this baby; making and writing for the show instead of the blog...
the install took six hours yesterday, the quickest set-up of installations i have ever done. with a muchísimas gracias to the inimitable Robert who happened to be there teaching for the weekend, for bringing me food every couple of hours throughout the process.

finishing touches to be added this week, opening this coming weekend:
Sunday February 10th, 2-4 p.m. in the Guggenheim Gallery of the Guggenheim Pavilion at the Rensselaerville Institute/Meeting and Conference Center, Rensselaerville NY.

all are welcome to attend, and you must use the "winter entrance"...the normal short-cut entrance is impassable unless you are driving the town plow and even that would get stuck on the hill.

a group from NYC in fact couldn't get "off the hill" this past weekend at the Center, due to inclement road conditions, but never fear, the forecast is: "mild, breezy, Chinook winds and warming temps into the '80's" for the weekend opening.

SIKE!
only kidding.

more previews coming.

cream cycle

One day you're
minding your own
beeswax
and voilá,
a wildcat
shows up



you have no choice
but to love him,
savage as he may be.
(pictured on their patio: Cookie and David's bobcat)

It all began
for me
with that picture



painted by Dale
twenty years ago.
Check out the li'l dahlink
peeping over my shoulder.

Two decades
and two understudies
later...
the first two couldn't keep their lines
straight...
the third
arrived demanding
star treatment.



I spend inordinate amounts of time
writing cat menus in my sketchbook.
I make it easy, just check yes oder no:

_____oui _____non

preceding each entreé,
appetizer or beverage on the list.

pages fill quickly with non after non
checks.



I dream of opening
the first kateteria,
"Guesssss Who's Coming to Dinner"
in New York

and of making the cover
of Biznessweek with its
and my brilliance.
Katomat.



Everyone
will pounce on
the chance
for kitty
to dine in such fine
design.

Catering to
hoity-toities of
utmost taste and
comportment,
no gangstas
allowed.
which would keep
mine off the premises;
glad i own the place.

Cuisine
guaranteed to
please
the best cons
on the planet,
meaning mine,
who will
open
a grand total of
two
katomat doors
to obsession,
either:

1.light cream, only one kind
is acceptable...no cheapo
will do. and,


2.solid white albacore,
NOT the skanky store kind,
brand name only
because it costs the most.

It's all very bad business, I know.



What comes 'round again is such mystery, ain't it.

sistahs

"Truth is eternal, knowledge is changeable. It is disastrous to confuse them."
-Madeleine L'Engle

Herewith a confidential glimpse of the letter i imagine sending through USPS.
But since i won't, maybe i'll email it to my peeps this week like this:

"hey sis,
just wanted to let you in on what i want to say but am too chicken to send to another sis. thanks for listening.
party on & xox,
mk

'Dear Hillary,
Once upon a time, I waited in line for you to sign a copy of your book.
I still have it here in the studio, but like many things,
what seemed so important to have back then doesn't stand so powerful for me now.

Don't get me wrong- I admire the strides you've made fighting the good fight in the public sector. Your strength, conviction and moxy have served to create a potent persona and figurehead for thousands, maybe millions of sistahs.

But Hill, your hardest fight is finally playing out.
This is the one you bet the farm on.

Putting up with terminal bad-boying and societal embarrassment from your man....makes people still wonder why you didn't stand up and walk straight out that door to the big rock candy mountain of self-re-invention.
It would have been a hard, maybe impossible climb back up, but it woulda been
your climb.

Despite the perhaps inevitable political suicide, you could've been alive in so many other ways.
Many have climbed that Everest before you. It is a terrifying, death-defying trip and some slip off the edge. But many more make it back with miraculous tales to tell and a rebirth in the making.
And with the determination to: enable no more, no way, no one;
to stay raw and no longer rise above intellect
at a cost to instinct.

Too bad we weren't your role-models; we were waiting in the wings.

This fight is about lessons learned and lessons ignored and lessons that come around again if you didn't get it the first or second or hundredth time. and about false gain.
We fight it but we know it
deep in the gut while the mind plays broker.

Just wish you hadn't bet the farm on him.

Yeah, shoulda, coulda, woulda; easy to say.
Well, if you need a sister's shoulder to finally cry it out, Hill,
we're here for ya, day or night.

Yours Truly,
a fan who would bet on you
if you were free and clear ' "