Kaleidoscopic Curiosities

eclipse

I was thrilled to catch last week's total lunar eclipse. It rained all day and I worried that we wouldn't be able to see it, but the rain stopped at dusk and by the time the earth's shadow took its first bite, the clouds parted and we had a perfect view. And what a luxury, for it to occur in the evening! I can't tell you how often I drag my butt out of bed and stagger out into the yard in the wee hours, trying to catch a glimpse of something like this. Good show, celestial bodies!

This photo (or one very much like it) was on the front page of the Times the next day. The building at the bottom is Griffith Observatory. I wish it had occurred to me that they would be having a "star party" to watch the eclipse! D'oh!

A star party (usually one Saturday evening per month) is when a bunch of amateur and not-so-amateur astronomers gather on the lawn of the Observatory and set up their own telescopes. Yes, it is an informal astro-geek convention! Star gazers can wander from nerd to nerd, to look through their telescopes and ask questions. It's a lot of fun.

But back to the eclipse. I like to think of eclipses as opportunities to start fresh, you know, sort of wipe away whatever patterns may be bugging me and ease into new, hopefully better habits. Right now my biggest problem can be summed up in one word: clutter. Clutter in my environment, clutter in my mind and clutter in my body. So as I sat there watching the eclipse progress, I thought about why I let these things collect and stagnate, because I can do a million 15-minute decluttering drills like all the self-help books recommend, but the clutter will just keep on coming until I understand what it is saying and why I do it. I'll share some thoughts on this, and (I hope!) some decluttering progress, another day.

Project Runway: The Art of Fashion

I just realized I never commented on the last Project Runway challenge, which is ironic since it took artwork as its direct inspiration. I thought all the garments were well done (even Sweet P's losing dress had an interesting shape and construction, although it was the most subdued peacock I've ever seen). I guess I got a little ticked off at the judges' criticism of Chris March's elegant mushroom-colored gown as being too similar to the haute couture dress he constructed a few weeks prior... Meanwhile, Christian has been trotting the same skinny-bottom/puffy-top silhouette down the runway all season and they do not call him out for it.

My favorite garment this week was Jillian's outfit, inspired by Master of the Argonauts. The detailing on the jacket is reminiscent of an armored breastplate, and when the model flung open the jacket to reveal the gold dress beneath it, Heidi Klum wasn't the only girl whose breath was taken away.

So, tonight we get the first part of the finale. I read a lot of PR related press and I believe the cat is out of the bag regarding whether Rami or Chris will be the third contestant in the finals, but I won't spoil it for you in case you haven't yet heard. I'll just say that, based on the photos of their runway shows (one "real" and the other a decoy), I agree with the judges' decision. Take the best three pieces from each show and I think you'll agree, no matter what you think of Rami's work or Chris' work in general.

I wonder (and kind of dread) what this season's last minute drama will entail. Last year, of course, it was the Jeffrey/outsourcing controversy, and in season 1 it was the Kara Saun shoe incident as well as everyone's general distaste for Wendy. In season 2, I guess it was just Daniel turning out to be a spoiled obnoxious brat. This time around, though, it seems like everyone likes each other a lot so who knows where the tension will come from... Personally I'd rather watch them working on their garments for an hour, making choices and addressing issues. Wouldn't that be refreshing?

 

confession

I drank a Diet Coke the other day.

As you may know, I adore Diet Coke but recently decided to go cold turkey because I am trying to eat "clean," and there's not much point in eating clean while drinking chemicals. My last Diet Coke was on December 30 --

-- until last Tuesday. I was the first one in the office after the long holiday weekend and I went into our little storage room to put my lunch in the fridge. It tends to collect abandoned leftovers, as shared fridges do, and once in a while someone will get all pissed off about the state of the fridge, toss everything in it and dash off a testy email to All Staff urging us to clean up after ourselves. (Easy, now...)

Anyway, someone cleared out the fridge over the holiday weekend, and when I opened the door on Tuesday morning there was just one thing in it: a single, perfect Diet Coke. It was right in the middle of the fridge, artificial light bouncing off its dewy, silver skin almost like a halo, and the angels sang "aaaahhhhhhh!!!!!"

I took it as a sign. You see, for about a week I had been literally dreaming of Diet Coke. The spicy flavor, the exuberant fizz. The refreshment! It was the first thing I thought about in the morning and the last thing I thought about as I drifted off to sleep, and when I confessed this to my therapist, she very wisely suggested that it might be better to just drink one than obsess about it.

She asked, "What would happen if you drank a Diet Coke?" Well, I'd break my resolution, for one thing. I might experience the side effects I now attribute to aspartame, blurry vision being the most worrisome. I might not like it anymore?? I might not be able to stop at one! On the way home from that appointment I stopped at the supermarket and bought a six-pack of those cute little half-size cans, thinking I'd put them in the back of the fridge for "emergencies" and even if I drank the whole thing it would only be the equivalent of three cans (for my perfect Diet Coke must be in cans -- the plastic-bottled stuff doesn't taste the same and don't even get me started on fountain drinks).

But I didn't even have a chance to build up to an "emergency" followed by the ceremonial plucking of a pony can from its six-pack bonds, because someone cleaned out the office fridge and inadvertently left me a sign from God.

So I drank it. I popped the top, breathed in that first spicy whiff of effervescence, and tipped the frosty can to my parched lips. Oh. My. Sigh. It was good. And then it was gone.

Did the worst case scenario materialize? Of course not. And frankly, one Diet Coke per month is probably a reasonable way to enjoy my old friend.

I marked my calendar and tried to forget about it.

from my gallery, day 5

My dearest Helga commissioned this Julie Fillo painting for my birthday one year. It's one of my very favorite gifts, ever! (Made all the more precious by the fact that it was lost at my post office for about a month.)

Julie is painting an extensive series of women with birds, and Helga asked her to create one that looks like me, includes my favorite colors and a hint of my personal symbology. It's a big painting, probably 16x20, and it graces my living room.

from my gallery, day 4

I regret that I do not know the name of the artist who created this fabulous print! I bought it at an art and craft show at someone's home in Pasadena two Decembers ago. I kept trying to talk myself out of buying it because I was supposed to be shopping for gifts, and I couldn't understand why I was so intensely enamored by it -- it's not as if I collect singing cowboy memorabilia or have a horse fetish or anything... But after a while it became clear that Roy Rogers and Trigger would be gracing my wall. I have never regretted it. And, on second thought, wouldn't a wall full of artistic interpretations of singing cowboys be a wonderful collection?? I gotta get right on that.

from my gallery, day 3

This is a teeny tiny painting (3x4) on a chunk of scrap wood, painted by Diane Culhane. I took her workshop at ArtFest a couple years ago and wanted this memento. There is something magical about the worlds Diane depicts -- the wonky little houses dwarfed by giant leaf-shaped trees, the swirling clouds and flying people. I love her use of color and the way parts of the composition look almost like stained glass.

more from my gallery

This is a print that Randi Feuerhelm-Watts gave me to celebrate the publication of our books last winter. It's a superbig photocopy of one of Randi's journal pages, and I love its message and its exuberance. My flash has drowned out the colors -- they are brighter and bolder in real life.

another theme week: my personal art gallery

I'll be out of pocket for the next several days so I'm going to regale you with another theme week, like we did last month with my favorite kitchen things. This month, I'd like to show you some of my favorite artworks I've purchased or acquired. I don't have a whole lot but the pieces I have, I adore.

This is one of Carla Sonheim's "girls" which is already darling enough, but the red bird in the tree happens to be one of my personal symbols for something that is very precious to me, so there was no way I wasn't buying this little painting!

It's painted on a 6x6 wood panel and it perches perfectly atop my desk hutch.

I think I picked it up at ArtFest several years ago.

Carla will be teaching at ArtUnraveled in Phoenix this August (the workshops were just posted!).   

great buy

I have coveted this book for years but its pricetag ($200) was a bit out of reach. Imagine my surprise to find it on the sale rack at Barnes & Noble recently for $24.95!! For a collage artist, this book is a remarkable resource filled with thousands of gorgeous illustrations of flora and fauna painted during the 1700s by a fellow named Albertus Seba. Dozens of plates of butterflies, mandala-like arrangements of seashells, and the pages I'm most excited about: fancifully swirled and curled snakes! The detail in these renderings is amazing, but in a few cases I wonder if Seba must have been working from someone else's description or lousy sketch, because some of the animals depicted are just odd-looking. Or who knows, maybe those are extinct now.

I'm hauling this giant book to the nearest color photocopier today so I'll have some new plant and animal images to use in LK's workshop this weekend. You might call your local B&N to see if they've got any cut-rate copies left!

Besides its wealth of collage fodder, it's just a gorgeous book, inside and out. I see it frequently in magazine and catalog photos, you know, the ones where impressive stacks of exotic coffee table books are nonchalantly piled next to the overstuffed sofa they're trying to sell. The artwork on the dust jacket is reproduced directly on the book's cover, too, so it's easy to spot that vibrant red coral snaking its way onto the spine. It's really a classy looking thing.

more on graffiti

The National Portrait Gallery in Washington DC is currently exhibiting a show called "Recognize: Hip Hop and Contemporary Portraiture." There's a nifty segment about graffiti. Yes, at the Portrait Gallery! Their thesis is that graffiti is an art form that is performed without an audience, so the artist's "tag" and distinct lettering style becomes (in a sense) his portrait.

There are four huge panels created by CON and AREK, and the cool thing is that each panel is exhibited on the Gallery's website along with a slideshow that depicts the creation of each piece. You get to see the guys block out the lettering and develop each piece layer by layer. I'm still amazed by how sharp-edged the lines are. There must be some secret they're not showing...? Like, maybe there are giant wads of blue painters' tape just off camera?? Still, it's cool to get a glimpse into this normally audience-less artform.