Hef, The Southie Slam & Health Insurance

When I saw the above photo from this week’s Boston Phoenix (5.25.07 – 5.31.07) depicting America’s favorite silk pajama wearer and his infamous “Girls Next Door,” I became convinced that my art career was over. The stylized representations of the models— in high contrast black and white— had me doubting any left of creativity I might have left. To consider that you might be unconsciously stealing from de Kooning is one thing, to be imitating the artistic tastes of Hef is quite another. Maybe I should go into the magazine business.

In other news, last night was the world famous South Boston Poetry Slam and Open Mic— held upstairs at the Seapoint Restaurant in Southie. I tried out some new poems/some works in progress, including “The New Deal for Dealers,” and “The New Parishes,” the second, being something of a freestyle. I had never tried this before, but went up with a blank sheet of paper and just riffed. The page was blank because I knew if I caught a word I would be screwed and get it stuck in my head. One other newbie I tried out was a draft of my “Farewell to Poetry,” which I had quoted some pieces from in an earlier post.

I was lucky enough to win the $25 prize last night. In honor of this good fortune I am including an image of my piece “Currency,” above.

The major news of the night was the decision of the South Boston Arts Association to institute a $100 prize for the winning slam poet at the September South Boston poetry slam. Set your calendars for Wednesday, September 26th at 7:30 PM— with that type of cash prize the competition should be a great one. The Southie Slam and open mic will continue throughout the summer and beyond on the last Wednesday of every month, upstairs at the Seapoint— if you want to come and check it out beforehand. It is a great event.

So, yesterday I worked on poems to prep for the slam, and am trying to get my manuscript in order and get some submissions ready. My friends Heather Cahoon and M.L. Smoker each have works in the current issue of Hanging Loose, which has me thinking I need to get a little motivated and do some submitting. They are both great.

Today I am working on a few visual art submissions and proposals— while touching up “Photo ID Required,” prior to taking photographs for consideration into an upcoming show. Putting together my Artist’s Statement, bio, slide labels, and whatnot is nowhere near as fun as painting, poetry, or fiction— that’s for sure.

I also met with an insurance agent regarding self-employed health insurance today and talked to a property manager about a larger loft in Midway Studios. I am interested in having more space— but love 617 Midway so much, so I will have to see how that one progresses.

And now I’m off to finish my Artist’s Statement.

Music Video: N.W.A. - Express Yourself

It is high time I got some Dr. Dre on this blog. N.W.A. is undeniably the originators of so-called gangsta rap, but more than that, Dr. Dre is a genius who will go down in history as one of the most revolutionary musical visionaries of the 20th century. And no, I am not exaggerating.

A whole book could be written on Dre’s approach to music and the music industry. His innovative producing of rap songs— sampling P-funk records, mismatched background noises, and the like for a melodic and new style that matched perfectly with MC’s like Eazy-E, Ice Cube, Eminem, etc. etc.

Further, he has single-handedly set the tone for rap, and no producer has had the reach and influence over music (all music) that Dre has had over the past 10 to 15 years. Through vehicles like Snoop Dogg, Eminem and 50 Cent, Dre brought his “West Coast” rap and gangsta rap classifications and made his sound the definitive one for the entire U.S. This is on top of his work with artists like Foxy Brown. Nas and AZ (The Firm) and many, many, others.

On top of all that? His music is just incredible. Plus, this video has cameos from artists like Ton Loc and a great phone conversation between Dre. and Gorbachev.

And all this time people have been crediting Reganomics with the fall of communism. Someone should send Dr. Dre a thank you letter.

Slideshow from Fort Point Spring Artwalk, 2007

Above, find a slideshow of images on my studio— 617 Midway— from the 2007 Fort Point Spring Artwalk. This year’s Artwalk was a great success. Held Friday, May 4th through Sunday, May 6th, we had outstanding weather and great attendance.

I sold a few pieces from my studio, and some poetry chapbooks as well— and truly enjoyed all the interesting conversations I had with visitors to my studio. The reception to my new work was great, and has certainly helped to fuel my painting over the past few weeks.

It is a fairly large undertaking to prepare for these. In fact, on Friday the 4th, right before I opened my doors, I thought, "I am never doing this again." Between making space for people to walk through comfortably— and stay and enjoy the paintings— as well as cleaning, hanging work, preparing price lists, etc., etc., it always takes much more time than I anticipate. I still haven’t got my television out of the closet yet.

But, it was well worth it. Thank you to everyone who was able to attend, and to the Fort Point Arts Community http://fortpointarts.org/ for putting together such a great event.

Hopefully the pictures give a feel for what it was like. I had more than 200 people in over the weekend, and there were amazing questions from people, and great discussions overall... and to watch people's response was so wonderful. Some of the pictures are priceless, as the viewers and the paintings seem to be having a silent discussion that we get to spy on.
Hope you enjoy, and see you in October for Open Studios.

Work in Progress: "Food Processing" (3)

For the most part, I have wrapped up the painting "Food Processing," and the image above will be my last posting on this for now.

As you can tell, I touched up the colors and softened them a bit- which works better with the black and white contrast and the overall relationship between the warm side of the color scale and the cool.

I am very please with it- it works perfectly for this size, and I love the positive and negative space. Also, it speaks well to the other pieces.

After this picture I did a matte varnish to bind everything together. Depending on how it looks tomorrow, I may do one or two more.

Now I am planning my next piece- while I have another small canvas ready to go with composition elements, I think I may go bigger again. If so, I will likely take an additional day or two to prep. But, I will see how things progress in the morning.

Sketchbook: Castle Island

I try and keep my hand trained somewhat in drawing, even if I am painting a lot. Generally, I will try and sit outside if I can and just practice sketching. As a lover of lines, I like using pen and ink- and from time to time if I especially like a sketch I may frame it and offer it for purchase- although this happens probably only 5 percent of the time. Generally, I plan out my finished pieces fairly deliberately- and it is more likely that I will come across an idea or form in my sketchbook (which double as a notebook, image notebook, etc.) that I will then use to some degree in a later piece.

Anyhow, last week I sat down at Castle Island during sunset and did a little sketch of Boston. Above is a piece of it, and my New Balance sneakers.

I wonder if sneaker endorsements are in the future for artists?

Music Video: Cypress Hill - Hand on the Pump

Major moment in hip-hop history is the announcement of the coming of DJ Muggs and the Soul Assassins. No better example of this fine production style than "Hand on the Pump" with the creative sampling of Gene Chandler's "Duke of Earl."

In other news, I just got my replacement Cypress Hill t-shirt in from eBay a few months ago.

Death of the Artist / Death of the Horizon

There are lots and lots of ideas a person might have about the artist’s lifestyle— poverty, glamour, eccentricity, madness— but there are some aspects of being an artist that I would never have anticipated.

Namely, the constant jokes about death and murder. Not exactly advertised in those art school brochures, is it?

I’ve recognized that when I make a sale to a person that I know well enough to joke with, or when I tell a friend about a particularly important recent sale, it is typically met with something like:

“I guess now if you die it will be worth a lot more.”

Or:

“So, now, if you were to say…. meet with some tragic death… the price would be even more than that…”

You get the picture.

In choosing to pursue the often intimidating profession of “artist,” I may have thought “will I make it?” or “will I starve?”… I’d foreseen many challenges, but continual “joking” about my demise was not one of them.

It would be akin to buying a car from the auto dealer and saying “thank, hope you croak now.” Or, at the grocery store “thanks for the plastic, not paper, and watch out for that slippery tile, wouldn’t want to break your neck now, would you” (add a wink).

Ok, the first example isn’t so hot given how people generally feel about car salesmen (pardon me, salespeople)… but, again, you get the picture.

For a related/unrelated segue, I am including the above photo of a picture that I keep in my studio— a computer printout of Gustave Courbet’s “A Burial at Ornans” from 1851.

I keep it close as I have spent a lot of time thinking on it and wanting to do something with it for the basis of an art piece (see images above of my sketch book/journal). For quite some time I was planning a piece with the working title “The Death of the Horizon,” as this painting seems to depict a modern (literally – Modernist) masterpiece that is actually announcing the death of the types of painting that came before it.

Courbet’s flatness predicts Postmodernism and the treatment of canvas and paint on the level of surface, surface, surface. I’ve often wondered about the idea of Courbet burying the past with this pinnacle of modern painting announcing “no more horizon”— indeed, the paintings of Monet push this idea of flatness (paint blobs on canvas) and then finally, once we get to the lily pond, are literally looking down into the water without a horizon line in sight. Push past this into Abstract Expressionism and the New York School and Courbet’s painting becomes an announcement, a prophecy, a rapper’s dis’ to the Old School as the leader of the new.

I admit the leap between Courbet to Monet to Pollock/Abstract Expressionism is a bit oversimplified, but I love this idea of Courbet announcing the death of the old and that he will forever change painting. And he did.

Also, this idea of horizon, and its impact on art, is especially compelling to me— when working in non-representational styles there is such a hazard, when there is no horizon, of letting your work devolve into a simple necktie pattern rather than a work of art.

Kurt Vonnegut mentions this notion of horizon and contemporary painting in his essay collection, “Fates Worse than Death,” regarding Jackson Pollock’s “dribble” paintings.

On page 45, he writes:

“My main reason for not liking the dribbles much, except possibly as textile designs, is primitive: They show me no horizon. I can easily do without information in a painting except for one fact, which my nervous system, and maybe the nervous system of all earthbound animals, insists on knowing: where the horizon is. I think of newborn deer, who have thought to struggle to their feet and maybe start running for their lives almost immediately. The first piece of important information their eyes transmit to their brains, surely, is the location of the horizon. So it is, too, with human beings awakening from sleep or a coma: the first thing they have to know before reasoning is where the horizon is.
As responsible shippers say on packages containing objects which are easily distressed, like the human nervous system:

THIS SIDE UP”

So, this idea of the pivotal moment in painting when artists abandoned the horizon is integral in thinking about the shift between Modern and Postmodern.

And the Courbet is my favorite painting of a funeral (which in itself would make a good title for a book of poems: MY FAVORITE PAINTING OF A FUNERAL, and other poems)… so I think of it whenever someone says:

“So, if you get killed by a rabid fan now… then….”

Ahh, the perils of Art.

Slideshow of Some Recent Work

Had made one of these in the past, but was time to update with a preview of some of my new work.

Work in Progress: "Food Processing" (2)

Working on Food Processing tonight and wrestling with some of the same issues— the difficult balance between striking, intense colors and opacity to allow the images from behind to show through at times.

This, combined with a series of decisions about detail— enough detail to present a compelling image and enough vagaries to allow the viewer to fill in the blanks— seems to be what has my attention.

I was tempted to leave some of the collage elements blank for an unfinished look that peeks through in broader sections… but didn’t as I was so consumed with getting the relationships of colors right. Maybe this notion will carry over to another piece.

Above, see two working images of “Food Processing,” as I had a few days where my computer was down last week and was unable to post.

Also, I think as I work in the color that I have the blue and pink a bit too “dark,” with a heavy tone. I will likely lighten these up a bit and make them more “powdery” with more white or grey mixed in.

For this, I use some scrapbooking paint that I found in Target to mix with some of the brighter Lascaux acrylics that works nice on the paper with a more pastel representation of the colors.

Because of the problems with my computer, what you see here is separated by about 3 days of work.

Music Video: Jimmy Buffett From Live By The Bay in 1985 - We are the people are parents warned us about

Almost as surprising to people who are mystified by my love of rap is their shock when they discover that I am a tried and true Jimmy Buffett fan. An unapologetic Parrothead to the nth degree.

Now,Mr. Buffett probably was never suited for the medium of music video— and has likely got a bit commercialized as the years go by— but I am a sucker for his music. Once it gets to be springtime, or even in the midst of some blizzards, I get fiending for some JB. At one point, before it was impossible to get tickets, I would go to all five tour dates at Great Woods in Mansfield, MA.

Like many, I was only exposed to the one album “Songs you know by heart,” Jimmy’s greatest hits— and I was none too thrilled. But, once I got into some of his lesser-known music, I got hooked. My favorite Buffett songs include “Boat Drinks,” "The Weather is Here, I Wish You Were Beautiful," "Love and Luck," "Miss You So Badly," “Fruitcakes,” “Frank and Lola,” “Take Another Road,” “Incommunicado,” “Changing Channels,” “Knees of my Heart,” “Who’s the Blond Stranger,” “Coconut Telegraph,” and “We are the People…” (per the video above)…. to name a few.

In fact, between you and me, the book “Where is Joe Merhcant?” by Jimmy Buffett is one of my all-time favorite books. And, the Herman Wouk book “Don’t Stop the Carnival,” which I was led to because Buffett turned it into a musical, is another favorite of mine.

Although, I was never able to convince my friend Brian Campbell, co-member of the now defunct rap group Civil Disobedience, to sample “Margaritaville,” for a song I penned, working title: “Wasting away again in 40-ville.”

So, Jimmy Buffett- “We are the people our parents warned us about,” with me, painting with the windows open in the summer heat.

Art Store Blues

Finally made it to the art store, and they finally will be able to add an addition and a boost to their 401k plan.

In documenting the life and times of my studio, see attached receipts above.

Work in Progress: "Food Processing"

So, it looks as if I have at least a working title for this new piece in progress, “Food Processing.”

I like the title but am a little concerned it might lead people in the wrong direction. While it might help to motivate people to think about “food processing,” or “processed food,” as I work on it it is more on how we think about food— and, as with the other works, what our thought processes are surrounding it.

The collage components are some “Nutrition Facts” labels I have pulled and enlarged from various sources— sugar, frozen pizza, pasta. The elements for the figures are pulled from an old book I found in my grandparent’s basement (the Cole’s from which I inherited my middle name— being my mother’s maiden name) 5 or so years ago.

The book is the “Children’s Guide to Knowledge,” edited by Leonard Buchner and Steele Mabon Kennedy— published by Parent’s Magazine Press in 1963.

One of the figures (the foreground) uses images of shopping, food processing, and people’s relationships to animals.

The other is made of images of livestock and seafood.

I love this old book and have used it for collage-type pieces in the past (“Ketchum, Idaho,” and “100 airplane Rides”)— the images of the women decked-out in 50’s style garb and pushing a shopping cart next to a narrative of people making friends with animals is perfect for this work.

To bring up Sam walker again— I was always intrigued by his work in printmaking— he once crafted a wooden Japanese screen adorned with the found imagery of hands from the instructions of how to use chop sticks that come on the outside of the paper wrappers in some restaraunts. This enlarging and reconsidering of everyday objects inspired me and is certainly present in this work.

I can remember a talk with Sam on his losing his father, and me losing mine, and how we wondered what we would do with all this “stuff” we inherited but weren’t quite sure what to do with. I am not sure what Sam finally did with all of his, but I still have the repair manual from a 1989 Dodge Caravan that is begging to find its way into a collage.

And I can see my Father in this work as I cut these shapes. As someone who worked for the U.S.D.A. (U.S. Dept. of Agriculture) for over 30 years, and was the Officer in Charge of the Western Division of the United States, I know my father spent time early on in his career in slaughterhouses and meat packing plants inspecting for clean practices. While the women in the collage are rolling apples down a large conveyor— their attire of white hats and clothes and the idea of food processing have me thinking of my dad as I work.

And the apples? Will any artist ever get within 100 miles of apples and not think of Cezanne?

Further, Martin Cockroft’s poem, “With Apples,” which was nominated for a Pushcart Prize last year and deals with Cezanne in some respects is always there for me when I think of apples. He is an incredible poet.

I have also used Vellum press-on numbers that will reside in the background behind heavy black areas. I used this technique in “Sources,” and like the idea of additional layering— more information barely visible beneath the surface, but there upon further inspection.

Using letters, or in this case numbers, like this (which ties in nicely to our accounting for fat, calories, etc., etc., in a “food processing” has me thinking of Pollock’s painting “Male and Female” (here from webmuseum site: http://www.ibiblio.org/wm/paint/auth/pollock/), and de Kooning’s, “Zot,” (from http://www.ba-ca-kunstforum.at/en/exhibitions/review/17) both of which use seemingly random figures/letters as part of the composition.

And, back to the nutritional content— I love these words… “fact,” and “value,” that we stare at absentmindedly as we shop.

So, “Food Processing,” is moving along with some further work today.

Shameless Theft and Fiction Heroes (not Fictional Heroes)

In writing some fiction, and thinking about fiction lately, I have been reconsidering some of the major influences on my writing.

Who do I love to read? Who truly inspires me as a writer in terms of fiction?

Well, per the earlier post, Kim Cockroft is wonderful.

Michael Davis, who I also have the pleasure of calling a good friend, is also an amazing writer. I am a proud owner of his thesis work which is my plan for retirement— it will be worth a pretty penny on eBay someday.

You can actually read a Davis story on my webpage at:

http://kurtcoleeidsvig.com/Davis.html

Sherman Alexie I love. His book of short stories “The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven,” is one of the best pieces of fiction I have ever read. I stole (in art this is called appropriation) the idea for the title of the work “Jasper Johns and Frank O’Hara Fistfight in Heaven” from him, and he mercilessly emerges in my writing.

See above for my piece “Jasper Johns and Frank O’Hara Fistfight in Heaven” from 1999 that is an early example of my use of collage, paper, bright colors and the intersection of words and image in art.

I have had the experience many times where I finish a painting and look at it and say, “great, another Pollock rip-off. Or, yep, Rauschenberg already did that too,” and the same has happened with my writing and Alexie.

My first poem to be published in a major literary magazine was “Counting,” published by Hanging Loose Press. It was after publication that I realized that it might be a cheap knock-off of a Sherman Alexie (he uses creative ordering and strategies for poems, he has a character named Lester FallsApart, mine had Johnny Blockbuster)… but, Pollock, Rauschenberg, Alexie; if you have to be copying someone (or doing imitations that fall short) unconsciously, who better?

An image that I love from Alexie’s fiction that I keep coming back to is from the story “All I Wanted to do Was Dance” from “The Lone Ranger and Tonto…”

On page 89, he writes:

“Once, Victor bought a case of Coors Light and drove for miles with the bottles beside him on the seat. He would open one, touch the cold glass to his lips, and feel his heart stagger. But he could not drink, and one by one he tossed twenty-four full bottles out the window.

The small explosions, their shattering, was the way he measured time.”

* * * * *

As with Frank O’Hara, the man who introduced me to Sherman Alexie was Ron Schreiber. Also, as with O’Hara, I have become hypnotized by Alexie’s ability to weave popular culture, the history of written art, voice, narrative, image, and style in a way that is both accessible and deeply-meaningful on repeated readings.

Who else? Raymond Chandler, Elmore Leonard, Ernest Hemingway, (this is just fiction), Vonnegut… oh, Kurt Vonnegut.

See above for a drawing by Kurt Vonnegut that I love that was included in an issue of Backwards City Review (link: http://homepage.mac.com/languageismycopilot/backwardscitydotnet/review/01issue/vonnegut.html)

Kurt Vonnegut passed away in April of this year, and will be sorely missed for his exceptional abilities as a writer.

I am sure I am missing some great influences on my approach to fiction, but need to go write.

Happy Monday.

Music Video: Nas Featuring P. Diddy - Hate Me Now

As Puff Daddy says so eloquently "Escobar season has returned."

I am a little surprised to have so much Puff Daddy on the blog so far, but as a great representation of Nas and his lyrical abilities "Hate me Now" works wonders.

Plus, there are so many explosions, and a controversial depiction of Nas on a crucifix... I mean c'mon, everyone loves explosions.

Blog Muse: Kim Cockroft

It occurred to me that I haven’t given appropriate credit where credit is due.

Now that I have people actually reading this blog about the life and times of Studio 617 in Midway I guess it makes sense to talk about how the whole thing came about. The idea of blogging to me seemed semi-ridiculous. Who the heck wants to read about someone’s life (today I ate donuts, tonight I watched the first season of Dawson’s Creek, have you ever noticed airplane food)?

It’s why I am not a big fan of reality TV. I am in the middle of my own reality TV show right now (mind you, the ratings aren’t so hot).

That said, when my friend Kim Cockroft started a blog a ways back about the life and times of Wazoo Farm, (http://wazoofarm.blogspot.com/) her new house and estate in Pennsylvania, it seemed a little more intriguing. Add in the fact that Kim is one of the best writers ever, and her blog got me hooked.

And, the idea of a blog that was the diary of a place, rather than a person, intrigued me. What goes on at Wazoo Farm, for all of us who have no idea what rural Pennsylvania might be like, is really interesting— and a great way to learn about people. So, why not what goes in an art studio in Fort Point in Boston… thus 617 Midway was born.

My first true “blog” entry ever was actually a contribution to Kim’s site. She invites book reviews from her friends, and I submitted one on a recent Benjamin Franklin biography that I read, and loved. You can read the review at her site:

http://wazoofarm.blogspot.com/2007/05/contributor-book-review-benjamin.html

Back to Kim as a writer. She is on my list of best fiction writers alive. Seriously. She has an incredible gift for voice and narrative, and a creative imagination that makes any of her works a joy to read. See the pic above of Kim and her daughter Elspeth.

Of course, her husband, Martin Cockroft is one of, if not the, greatest living American poet. Imagine their gene pool?

I expect their daughters Merry and Elspeth to take over the world.

Work in Progress - Plus de Kooning, Gorky & Sam Walker

So, the canvas isn't completely blank anymore. I enlarged the composition on the 24" x 30" canvas and set it down on the using charcoal. For the last 15 or so paintings, I have approached the first step of transferring an image to canvas this way (using charcoal)- it is something de Kooning did (although he used oil paints), and who better to imitate?

Above, see the preliminary work on the first piece. I will begin doing paper cut-outs of the shapes and making photocopies on the other design elements later tonight and tomorrow. I am still a bit up in the air about what to use for this smaller one. I hate to repeat myself on the imagery, but there are some elements that I would like to explore a bit more. Which is obviously what a series is for. So, we will see.

The first time I truly began mixing the charcoal with the paint was on a painting of about a year ago titled "Andre and the Butterfly" (see above). The inspiration for "Andre" came from the Matthew Spender book, "From A High Place: A Life of Arshile Gorky."

The passage that inspired the painting is from page 279 and is as follows:

“Willem de Kooning, who lived outside the frontier of the surrealists, referred to Breton sardonically as ‘Mr. God.’ He once caught sight of Breton in the street and followed him for a while. Suddenly a series of agonized spasms came over the great man. Just imagine, de Kooning said, making it into a funny story— Andre Breton, fighting off a butterfly.”

As a side note, Gorky has been an inspiration to me and my work for years. Through a drawing course led by Sam Walker at UMASS/Boston, and later through independent studies with Sam, he introduced me to the blend of abstraction and organic forms that dominate Gorky's work. I worked on a number of watercolors that imitated this technique, and it has an established a certain type of foundation for looking that is present in my art.

Sam Walker helped immensely in my development as an artist. He passed away in 1999, and his family and friends have established a scholarship in his name at Umass/Boston.

He was a wonderful guy, and was very good to me.

Back to "Andre and the Butterfly"- it is 24" x 48" and oil on canvas. Fun to me that it uses a de Kooning technique, is inspired by a de Kooning story, and comes from a biography on Gorky. I find that in my transition times, when I am not working on a series, it is always good to go back to the masters and get some inspiration from them.

But for now, I am excited about this new series, and need to get back to work.

Rain Delays, Short Stories, Narcissus & The Monkey and The Moon

Things have been quiet here in my studio over the weekend. It rained basically non-stop in Boston from Wednesday to today (Sunday). Have done some additional work on the prep work for my two new pieces, but have been stalled a bit. My studio faces the southeast, so the light is tremendous here in the morning and early afternoon, when it is not raining. Like most painters I am very inspired by light, and am a bit less motivated on gray and dark days (like all of us, I suppose).

The other issue has been materials. I most often use Dick Blick for my art materials— the one in Boston is right over by Fenway Park. And, because of all the rain delays, it has been hard to gauge when it is safe to travel over near the baseball park.

All that said, I will be setting the initial line drawing down on at least one piece tonight. So, the excuses are over.

In spite of the lack of supreme progress in the visual art aspects of my studio, I have done quite a bit of writing over the past few days. I am working on a few short stories that may or may not weave together to form something else. They are far from done, and are far from polished, but in the spirit of my studio blog, I will include an excerpt here:

* * * * *

The kitchen was quiet after Roger hung up the phone. Karen pretended to stir the pasta sauce she had simmering on the back burner. Beneath the light from the overhead the bright red sauce swirled heavily beneath her wooden spoon.

Still quiet. Karen set the spoon down, moved quickly across the linoleum and opened up the refrigerator. She scanned the shelves in the door. There were no answers, only Ketchup, mustard, something in a plastic baggie— unwrapping the bag and smelling it, she tossed it on the can.

“Are you going to clean out the refrigerator now?” Roger asked. His voice, odd from inside the refrigerator.

“What,” she said, pretending not to hear him, emerging with a canister of parmesan cheese.

“Nothing,” he said, sitting down at the breakfast bar that substituted for their— his— dining room table.

Karen was actually getting somewhat sick of Roger, too. He was so demanding. Plus, she thought, as she set the parmesan down on the table— or breakfast bar rather— Roger was a slob.

Oh, he wasn’t a slob like Tim. Tim would barely wash his socks if he could turn them inside out. No, Karen thought as she picked the placemat up off the top of the fridge and set them down on the breakfast bar— no, Rodger, Rodger was a slob in a different way.

He was sitting still on one of those stupid IKEA stools he bought, watching her move around the kitchen. Refrigerator, stove— stir, silverware drawer, cabinet— get out the plates. back to the breakfast bar. It was almost a circular pattern, Roger realized. A dance. Bump, bump, bump, bump, bump, ba— bump, bump, bump, bump, bump, ba.

“Are you doing a kitchen mambo?” he asked, looking down at the stack of plates on the breakfast bar.

* * * * *

As Hemingway said, the first draft of anything is crap. which is strange, as his book “Islands in the Stream,” which was published posthumously, and is a first draft, is one of my all-time favorite books. Go figure.

Finally, my image research brought me to thinking about Narcissus this weekend— the figure from Greek mythology— who falls in love with his own reflection. While dealing with the subject matter of people staring at their reflection, it seemed appropriate to think about the history of the treatment of this figure.

In honesty, it was one of my strangest searches yet. Apparently, the figure of Narcissus has become iconic in male erotica. So, my search brought up everything from great paintings, to flowers (paper white narcissus which I used for a science fair project in 7th grade), to borderline pornographic works of muscular men looking at their reflections.

Be it Alice in Wonderland, or Narcissus, it is so interesting to me how cultures adapt these myths and let them evolve to bring different meanings to a wide-range of scenarios.

The above image is attributed to Caravaggio (although there is some debate on that); titled Narcissus c. 1598, (image here from the web gallery of art http://www.wga.hu/frames-e.html?/html/c/caravagg/03/21narcis.html).

Kind of interesting for me to land on Caravaggio, as he was one of the first artists who I stumbled across years and years ago whose use of contrast I found to be so dramatic and powerful. He is the master of incorporating opposite ends of the color spectrum to emotional effect on a canvas. As I am using such complementary colors and striving for vivid and intense images, his example is worth considering deeply once again.

I guess the last “reflection” idea I had in the past few days was the famous Zen koan that deals with the monkey and the moon.


The monkey is reachingFor the moon in the water.Until death overtakes himHe'll never give up.If he'd let go the branch andDisappear in the deep pool,The whole world would shineWith dazzling pureness.

Music Video: De La Soul (ft. Redman) - Oooh

The De La's... oh yeah the De La's.

De La Soul is one of the finest rap groups of all time. Add in the lyrical stylings of Brick City's finest, Redman, and this song is incredible.

For further listening, "De La Soul is Dead," is one of the greatest rap albums of all time.

Check the Chappelle cameo. Seems like an earlier version of his character from "The Player Hater's Ball."

Rainy Friday: Blank Canvases and Angry Seagulls

To shift gears a bit, I have decided to work on two smaller canvases for my next works—one is 22” x 28” and one is 24” x 30”—the same size as the piece “Sources,” and both will also deal with imagery regarding women in mirrors— at least on the surface level.

I spent late last night preparing some of the imagery I want to use. When I work on this aspect, I try and work from some images and then experiment with distorting them and manipulating colors and contrasts until I like the basic work as a starting point. While I like to draw to prepare for painting quite a bit, and I like to draw and use clean lines in my work otherwise, we are lucky to have computers today to see how different colors and shapes will work in terms of composition.

I bought a printer with a computer forever ago— an Epson something— and it came with this Adobe PhotoDeluxe software that I still use to this day. For my needs of manipulating images and playing with layouts it is perfect. Every time I have changed computers I have frantically remembered at the last minute to find this installation CD and bring it with me.

So, I am pretty happy— that is an understatement, I guess— with my ideas for colors and overall layouts. Today I worked to prep the canvases, and do the remainder of clean up in my studio. I can see the floor again, which is good, but I am saving some colors I mixed to do the finishing touches on “Photo ID Required.” Thank goodness for the other technical innovations of plastic cups and saran wrap. As with the computer, I have tried many other ways to keep mixed color fresh, and find that this is the best for me.

I am including a photo of the canvases. Now you too can feel the exhilaration, terror, and impatience of looking at blank canvases.

In actuality, I like having the canvases ready to go. I like having canvases at all. I always get excited when I bring some home (no I don’t stretch my own— I did it for a bit and didn’t like it as much) some fresh ones from the art store.

I will likely not truly work on them concurrently— it is just easy to keep both ready and close as they are smaller. My plans are to do one horizontal piece and one vertical. I feel a bit like Jack Spicer who started to cry for whole books, or series, rather than single poems. In some ways I am starting to think how these ideas interrelate and how the canvases will talk to one another. That said, I am making a very conscious effort to focus on each canvas as an individual work. It is an interesting set of needs each philosophy brings to the table, and only begins to add more energy to the making of the works.

And it is raining, raining, raining in Boston. Being on the sixth floor of Midway Studios, I get the addition of a skylight, which is wonderful. And I often feel as if I am living with the seagulls as they dive off my roof and soar past my windows, or collect on the roof of the new convention center across the way. But on days when it is rainy and windy, like today, I don’t see a one. They disappear. Except I can hear them clunking around and screaming at each other on my roof. Every once in a while, one will clumsily thump into my skylight. It is ridiculous.

So, today, the seagulls are squawking and there are canvases waiting for paint.

The Big Three

I guess with all the talk of outrageous art prices, Post-war American Art, my influences and inspirations, etc., etc., I thought it might be worthwhile to mention some of the books that have been invaluable to me as an artist.

The three biggies, besides exhibition catalogues and looking at imagery, are:

-de Kooning: An American Master, by Mark Stevens and Annalyn Swan
-Mark Rothko: A Biography, by James E. Breslin
-Jackson Pollock: An American Saga, by Steven Naifeh and Gregory White Smith


There are others that have been interesting (Arshile Gorky; From a High Place) and wonderful (Paul Hayes Tucker’s exhibition catalogue for “Monet in the 20th Century" is amazing), but the three biographies above have helped immensely in my approach to art.

On top of that, all three are a good read— not too heavy on art speak, etc.

Then again, I could make an argument that those three are on my favorite artists all-time all star team (de Kooning would probably play point guard), so I may be a bit biased.

Drawing With Scissors

As I was sweeping my studio tonight, and wondering where I put my dust broom, my involvement with various sized paper shards— strewn about my floor and stubbornly refusing to be corralled— had me thinking about Mr. Henri Matisse.

Of course, by the time Matisse started “drawing with scissors” as they say, he was pretty successful, and actually worked from his bed, so he likely had an assistant or two to sweep up his discarded paper. See the picture above (from http://www.princetonol.com/groups/iad/peeves/petpeeves.html) for a view of Matisse working his magic on paper.

Specifically, I was thinking of my friend Kevin Murphy and his wife Rachel. Who, along with their capital “B” Beautiful daughter Mia came to visit my studio— 617 Midway— during Fort Point Spring Art Walk this year.

Rachel turned her head to me after looking at “Sources” and “Coast to Coast,” with Mia exploring the cookie plate under the watchful eyes of her Dad. “You must love Matisse,” Rachel said, and I smiled.

It is hard not to see Matisse’s ghost in these new works. I am cutting paper into shapes and affixing them to canvas after all— I am using bright, bright colors (Matisse is reported to have said “Seek the strongest color effect possible.. the content is of no importance”)— and I am rendering the female form at times, which Matisse did incredibly,

I have worked on and off on an essay— or a group of essays— tracing the true physical revolution of Modernist and Postmodernist art by analyzing the shifting relationships between artist, art, and audience. Matisse is a major component of this, as his shift to using scissors to draw is a major physical shift in how an artist would address new work.

Add in ideas like de Kooning drawing with his eyes closed, or Pollock painting “off” the canvas by dripping, and you begin to notice a dramatic shift in how art has been produced over the past 100 years versus the years and years before that.

Like it or not, this obvious shift in production methods (and then in approaching an audience a la Smithson’s “Spiral Jetty,” or Banksy’s “graffiti”) which goes on to include the further removal of the artist’s hand through conceptual art, assemblage, inclusion of “found” objects, etc., etc. (use of computers to have audiences “create” the art through making choices) and there is an obvious shift in the relationship between artist and art.

I believe that this shift of the artist moving further and further away from the “canvas” has actually created a greater intimacy between artist and audience. To demonstrate this, I always think of the Hans Namuth photos of Jackson Pollock painting becoming just as iconic of the artist as the paintings themselves. Audiences wanted to push beyond the art to find out what was going on with the artist, and this shift in relationship— much of it begun in some way by Matisse— has allowed this.

All that said, I don’t feel as connected to Matisse as with the influence philosophically and artistically I have with many American post-war artists. But, he is obviously incredible. See above for a picture of his “Snow Flowers,” from 1951, found at the Metropolitan Museum of Art website (http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/mati/ho_1999.363.46.htm).


I have looked everywhere and I can’t find it… but there is a quote by Matisse after he comes out of cancer surgery and is in recovery (which led to his paper cuts as a technique for continuing to produce art). Rather than being sad, he had this epiphany that not only was he alive and well, but he was actually the great artist, Henri Matisse… and he began a greater celebration of his work. The paper cuts that result bear this celebration of creativity and wonder. One of my favorites (and the photos of him working on this series from his bed are amazing) is his design for Interior of the Chapel of the Rosary, Vence from 1950. The picture of the chapel above is from http://www.centrepompidou.fr/education/ressources/ENS-matisse-EN/popup10.html, and the pictures of the designs in exhibition are from http://www.frankfurtlounge.de/highlightsMatisseEnglisch.htm. I always think of Rothko similarly designing the Rothko chapel at the end of his life, just as Matisse worked on his.

But, back to the paper cleanup. I am prepping to start my next piece, and like to begin with a reasonably clean studio. De Kooning used to wake up every Sunday and clean his studio mercilessly— scrubbing the floors, etc. etc.— which probably ties in to some other theme about artists and chapels and Sundays.

Music Video: RUN D.M.C. - Down with the King

First 2 cassette tapes I bought in my life? Motley Crue "Shout at the Devil," and Run D.M.C.'s self-titled debut. I won't get into the "Crue" right now: but if you have never seen the video for 'Wildside," featuring Tommy Lee in the drum set that spins upside-down over the arena crowd.... well, you're just not living, baby.

Run D.M.C. is impossible to quantify in terms of their role in hip-hop. The albums King of Rock, Tougher than Leather, Raisin' Hell, the self-titled one, Down with the King... all so huge. So huge.

I wish I still had my t-shirt from the Beastie Boys/Run D.M.C. "Together Forever" tour... although it might be a little snug now.

Here I am including the video for "Down with the King," which is special because it is a great song, features guest spots with Pete Rock and C.L. Smooth, and shows the self-proclaimed Kings of Rock still reinventing the rap game after years of maintaining their throne.

And finally, for a special shout-out to Run D.M.C., see Matt Damon's performance in "Dogma."

Art Investing: Feeding Frenzy for Post-war and Contemporary Art

So, over the past few days, the major auction houses Christie’s (May 16 & 17) and Sotheby’s (May 15 & 16) each held a series of auctions featuring Post-war and Contemporary Art. Some of the prices received are no less than astounding.

For a great view into this world, click on the following link to Christie’s website (http://www.christies.com/features/may07/pwc/pwa_video.asp) which shows the auction on May 16, 2007 for Warhol’s “Green Car Crash (Green Burning Car I),” from 1963 that starts at 17 million and works its way up 64 million dollars in the video (the piece was eventually sold for 71 million).

The Warhol image above is from yahoo ( http://news.yahoo.com/photo/070516/482/151d48c9dcd4462d9a39b6e3b0c78008;_ylt=AiJXSgyVmSo1ZFI.OZi4v1ZnhVID).

While I don’t always love Warhol (which is sacrilege to say— I just prefer Johns and Rosenquist more often as “pop” artists), this series is my favorite. There is something so great about combining Warhol’s style and eye for culture with the gruesome nature of the car crash (which are images we are presented with in the media and as parts of our contemporary life).

I bet at some point, Warhol was just a guy in a studio keeping a diary from time to time and working on creating images. Just think, if you’d invested in his career then. OK, that’s the end of my subliminal commercial for investing in my art.


Other highlights from the Christie’s auction:

-a Jasper Johns canvas, "Figure 4," that sold for $17.4 million; (see above for an image as found on Christies.com)
-an Arshile Gorky painting, "Khorkom," that went for about $4.2 million;
-and a Cindy Sherman photograph, "Untitled No. 92," bought for about $2.1 million.

I think the sale of the Jasper Johns is especially amazing as he is still alive.

The Sotheby’s auction has similar success:
-Mark Rothko's "White Center (Yellow, Pink and Lavender on Rose)," from 1950 sold for $72.84 million (see image above from http://www.iht.com/articles/2007/05/16/arts/melik17.php)
-Jean-Michel Basquiat’s Untitled from 1981, sold for $14.6 million
-Francis Bacon’s 1962 Study from Innocent X, sold for $52.6 million
-Lichtenstein’s ‘Girl with Mirror” from 1965 sold for $4 million
-de Kooning’s “Figure in Landscape No. 1” from 1951 sold for $4 million

For more information on both auctions you can check both Sotheby’s (http://www.sothebys.com/) and Christie’s (http://www.christies.com/) websites.

During the Whitney Retrospective in 1998 I saw the painting “White Center” by Rothko that just sold. It is painting beyond words to describe in its mastery and emotional impact. In fact, attending that retrospective was likely one of the most important events in my development as an artist. It was incredible, and the image of all those gorgeous Rothkos reflecting off the glossy floor will be with me forever. There was a part of me that wanted to look behind the canvases to find the light that must have been on behind each of them. I often describe seeing them like the moment after light passes through stained glass and before it lands on any surface. This image, so moving to me and impressed upon my being, has been included in poems of mine like “St. Augustine’s,” “Retrospective,” and others.

I actually have been working on a poem recently about the things that were most important in my artistic development (tentatively titled “Essential Moments In My Development As An Artist”). I just opened the file in progress and number one on the list was: “Seeing Rothko’s retrospective at the Whitney on a Thursday in 1998.”

Other items so far include:

-My parents, meeting in a bar in Falmouth called the Black Swan.
-May 8, 2007 when I realized you have to write every poem as if it was your last.
-Flathead Lake forming by glaciers.
-The girl I just saw in the crosswalk.
-De Kooning:
a. Walking in New York City
b. Stowing away on a boat named the SS Shelley
-James Rosenquist— the Swimmer in the Econo-mist. MassMOCA.
-Drawing on a cocktail napkin and as the pen seeped into paper and the lines retained themselves, realizing that I’d just drawn an exact replica of Picasso’s Guernica.
-Watching the airplanes leave jetwash lines all across the sky from my apartment on East 7th Street, and realizing they had just drawn an exact replica of Guernica.
-Frank O’Hara’s “Why I am Not a Painter," and being dyslexic.

In honor of Mr. Rothko’s stunning success over the past few days, I am including a piece of my poem “You’re Probably in Japan By Now.” Not only can Rothko paint amazingly, he was also part of the inspiration for this poem, which I am fairly sure single-handedly won me a Massachusetts Cultural Council Grant in 2004.

Here is an excerpt:

Just yesterday I realized I’d turned Mark Rothko into a character for my poems,
and how interesting paint and sound are compared to abstraction.

What a terrible tragedy to turn light— breaking to black fog— settling against
a wall— or creating a wall— into a caricature or a person even. Love.

I do this to all things I love, which should be flattering, but is not—
and now I have a strained relationship with Untitled from 1958.

Some of it is because Rothko was afraid of water and some of it
is because I’m afraid of Rothko who bought an old YMCA and painted

until orange was exhausted. There’s something about looking
a painting onto canvas that is very different from painting, cigarette in mouth.

It’s easier to look at a massive block of light melting like a molten ice cube
than to look at a man dissolving into paint.

**************************************

To end this post: In the midst of all this success by some of my artistic heroes, there was another interesting connection to my blog from The International Herald Tribune Article on the Sotheby’s Auction (http://www.iht.com/articles/2007/05/16/arts/melik17.php).

Kind of interesting how it connects to the post I did recently:

“The phenomenal success scored by Sotheby's was not entirely immune to glitches.
The most severe one affected Jackson Pollock's "Number 16, 1949," an abstract composition in oil and enamel on paper mounted on masonite. Bidding stopped at $17.5 million, missing the $18 to $25 million estimate, which seemed wild. But then it was not the only wild estimate that night, and others, like Rothko's $40 million to $50 million, were wildly exceeded.

The Jackson Pollock failure thus serves as a mild warning that in the current Alice-in-Wonderland world of contemporary art, occasional rude awakenings are possible.”

Postmodernism: Information and Noise

I took a seminar at the University of Montana, led by Bill Bevis, on Postmodernism. He described the idea of "postmodernism" or the "postmodern experience" somewhat like our experience of reading the front page of a newspaper— seeing bold headlines, photos, snippets of 4 different stories, all at once, and our brain processing all these disparate elements simultaneously. Expand this out to include our conscious and subconscious awareness of a hundred— or a million— other things (am I too cold? too hot? what is that smell? I might be hungry in an hour, the paper feels rough in my hands) all at once, and the idea of the processing we have to do continually in interpreting information and noise becomes obvious.

Contemporary artist, Matthew Ritchie, discusses this idea of information and noise in an interview with PBS Art:21 in relation to his work “The Universal Cell”:

“The way my work works is I’ve tried to build a model that can incorporate as much as it possibly can. It’s like this constantly expanding information structure that can just keep theoretically soaking up everything—but inside a way of seeing so it doesn’t just become this barrage. There are trillions of particles being discarded and bombarding our bodies right now, everything in this space has a meaning, a history, a story. We have to bank it all down, but I’m interested in, okay we’ve banked it all down but now can we bring it up a little, can we turn the volume up just a little more? Can we listen to everything a bit more loudly at the same time rather than selecting parts of the pattern? Can you tolerate, just for a few minutes, not just the physical information but the cultural information, the theological information, everything coming up together?” (http://www.pbs.org/art21/artists/ritchie/clip1.html)

Ritchie’s work is phenomenal. I have included an image of his work "Proposition Player.” The above is an installation view at the Contemporary Arts Museum Houston, Texas in 2003 (From PBS Art:21 Website: http://www.pbs.org/art21/slideshow/?artist=94).

To return to some of the origins of my considerations of the layered experience, or information/noise and how to represent it- one of the things that Bevis’ course led me to back to was Paul Hayes Tucker and Claude Monet. Bevis discussed Picasso and others, but I began to realize that Monet was not only a pathfinder in Modern painting, but in Postmodern painting as well. His incredible handling of paint in his later (20-30 years) paintings— and his depiction of the sky, the water’s surface (lilies), and the world beneath the water, or through the water (roots, silt, etc) had him painting at least four distinct realities simultaneously (the layered image of the scene and the surface of the canvas with loose “painterly” effects). Add to this the fact that much of what he was painting at this time was designed by him (his famous gardens at Giverny) and there is a preconceived reality— a building of reality (a staged scene through landscaping nature) and then an experiencing of it that was taking place.

See above for an example of Monet’s Lilies: “Water Lilies,” 1906 (from http://www.artchive.com/artchive/M/monet/waterlil.jpg.html)


As a former student (although I may always consider myself a student of his) of Paul Hayes Tucker, much of what I do in art returns itself to ideas on Monet and Impressionism anyway. It is one of my reference points that everything can grow towards or away from. Similarly, de Kooning, Rothko and Pollock operate in the same way. Although, in the case of Monet I think this is probably true for most artists operating now- his dramatic arc and development as a painter have been so instrumental in defining our relationships to contemporary art, he is an impossible figure to ignore.

Impressionism was a way for painters to capture a more “realistic” representation of what they saw. It blended budding scientific notions (if not led to them) and certainly displayed some dissatisfaction with the photograph. In the “real” world, things don’t freeze when you look at them. Even in a moment, light moves on water, etc. etc.

In my painting, I move toward taking this “impression” one step further. In what we see, we allow the light to cast and model the subject (and our relationship to the light determines what we see), but also our life experience determines what we see… not only in what we interpret but the inclusion of subconscious flashes of imagery that we impress upon the scene as well. Images of memories, cultural biases, associations, are included with this current information to present a layered set of visual data as a present reality to our consciousness.

Just as imagery is not, in reality, ever frozen— as light and air move imperceptibly fast— neither are we ever aware of a single image, but rather the imperceptibly fast— at times— processing of this visual information includes the bundling of other images. Our internal environment combines with the external environment in a multi-layered image that is pressed to the membrane of the eye. This is akin to the notion that if we are pinched, the skin itself does not “feel” the pain, rather it transfers this information to the brain. Ouch.

Similarly, the brain and the eyes are working together to render an image, that consciously or subconsciously includes a blender-like whirling and chopping and inclusion of numerous sources from our past. If not, the addition of the biases of the collective conscious as postulated by Jung.

But back to seeing. As the Impressionists were attempting to render a truer depiction— albeit a personal one— of “seeing,” so, too, do my new paintings strive to imitate this conglomeration of images that occurs in looking. No picture can be frozen, no image can be singular.

I think of Cezanne resisting the urge to put paint in places where he wasn’t sure and forcing himself to leave these places blank/white. Unless we consciously force ourselves, moment by agonizing moment, our brains will fill in the blanks— our brains will tell us from past experience how something looks; or is supposed to look.

As with my painting, “Sources,” the experience of a woman looking into a mirror might conjure images of how she was supposed to look, or her visions of what a woman should look like, from comic book imagery from her youth alongside critical media opinions of various celebrities as spied in a supermarket tabloid during checkout. It isn’t just the light, or our position that determines what we are seeing, but also our experience— or visual bank— that determines what and how we see things and creates the actual layered image we record moment by moment.

I keep thinking while painting these works “What are you looking at?” And the ideas range from the most terse and argumentative projection “WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT” to the most inquisitive and timid, “what are you looking at?”

What are you looking at over there?
Just what do you think you’re looking at?
Ooooo, what are youuuuu LOOKING at?

The word “looking” has even begun to “look” weird.

All that said, these current paintings hope to bring into question the true nature of what we are all looking at, and a representation of this layered experience that is both accurate to some possible degree, visually stimulating, and emotionally and intellectually compelling.

Finally, it occurs to me that in all this filtering of information and noise, much of what we filter out is necessary. Not necessary to filer it out, but rather, it may be necessary to take a closer look at. In a culture where we are bombarded by imagery and information it is all too easy to filter out and accept the things that go whizzing by without giving their impact and message full consideration (which our subconscious is doing with or without our permission).

All of this is beautiful, and I am honored to even try to capture its beauty.

Girls and Mirrors: Through the Looking Glass

Apparently, the logical, or illogical, progression in thinking about women and mirrors is to, at some point, consider Lewis Carroll and "Alice in Wonderland"/"Through the Looking Glass."

Isn't it strange how these things progress?

I am hoping this will be my first and last post recalling, considering, discussing Lewis Carroll. While I am enjoying thoroughly following the progression of this line of thinking/this series of paintings, I don't think Alice and the Mad Hatter are necessarily about to land in the middle of one of my canvases.

That said, what is especially fascinating to me is the incredible amount that has been done with this man's visions. There is a new world out there in cyberspace inhabited by various parallel versions of Alice and her friends: Interesting, Thought-provoking, Nightmarish, Friendly, Sexy, Nightmarishly Sexy, etc.

The pictures above are as follows:

• "Through the looking glass," photo by Annie Leibovitz for Vogue magazine December 2004
  http://www.style.com/vogue/feature/120103/popup/slideshow11.html


• "Alice Through the Looking Glass (Creation Classic Portables, 3)" Creation Pub Group (2000) by Trevor Brown (http://hugo-sb.wetpaint.com/page/Trevor+Brown)


• Advertisement for "Cute Alice" costume from mydivascloset.com (http://www.mydivascloset.com/alandteapaco.html)


• Alice in Wonderland chess set from TheChessPiece.com

The last time I was in Las Vegas was on Halloween weekend with my friend Brian Campbell. Everyone was dressed up in costumes, and I must have seen at least 9 different "sexy" Alice in Wonderland costumes, in various levels of appropriateness (all of which, I found appropriate).

My favorite Alice-influenced artwork is probably the graphic novel "Batman: Arkham Asylum - A Serious On Serious Earth," by Grant Morrison and Dave McKean. It is incredible in its painted pages and its strange text. While it doesn't create an entire new "Wonderland," it is an amazing piece of art set within the (strained to a stretching point) bounds of the Dark Knight.

Speaking of Wonderland, does John Mayer have to pay Lewis Carroll royalties for "Your Body is a Wonderland?"

Hey, anybody who has guest-spotted on the Dave Chappelle Show is OK by me.

But speaking of John Mayer... is Jessica Simpson Alice?

OK, enough shameless celebrity gossip within the bounds of art theorizing.

So, this idea of crawling through a mirror and finding a world on the other side is inspiring to all kinds of people. It is incredible to think that out of the world Lewis Carroll set to page, so many other people have created a universe with his ideas at the center. 5 or ten versions would have been astounding; but the hundreds and hundreds show that Alice and her world are rich with symbolism and meaning for a huge cross-section of different people.

Try it yourself, type in Alice in Wonderland or Through the Looking Glass in a Google image search and see what comes up.

One favorite of mine was: hugo-sb.wetpaint.com/page/Alice+Illustrations+other+than+Tenniel

which had an enormous amount of different treatments.