Seen in Atlanta - October 9, 2010

The beautiful chandelier at the Tabernacle.


A giant bird and a pretty woman at the Eyedrum.

Seen in Atlanta - first days of September

On Wylie Street in Cabbagetown, and women's bathroom in the back of the Earl.

Dreams of A Secret Agent

[part 4 in a series of art pieces inspired by my dreams]

Dreams of A Secret Agent
spanning the last five years


7" x 5" paper, thread, acrylic and glitter on canvas

This piece is about a theme that has wafted through my dreams for years. Well, a person, really. A Secret Agent. No matter where on this planet he is or I am, the connection remains and it is particularly strong in dreams. One of my very favorite dreams featuring him is called Good to See You.

When I think about this connection that spans distance and time, I am reminded of a song on Concrete Blonde's Walking in London album, called Les Coeurs Jumeaux (the twin hearts). There's this somewhat silly interlude in the song when Johnette speaks in french. Though I often roll my eyes at her unnecessary pronunciation of the letter s in several of the words, the line that sticks out when I think of the Secret Agent is "on rêve le même rêve". We dream the same dream.

Don't get it twisted though- the woman in this piece is not in Muslim dress- she has just wrapped her black scarf around her head to keep her hair dry because it is raining. Or maybe she's about to take a ride in her father's amazing vintage red convertible.

Read/see the other dreams in this series, The Mona Lisa, The Angel Singers Visit Me and The Feather and the Butterflies.

The Mona Lisa

[part 3 in a series of pieces inspired by my dreams]

The Mona Lisa
dreamed October 15, 2006


7" x 5" paper, acrylic, glitter and resin on canvas

I dreamed that I was walking by myself down a cobblestone street in Clonmel at night. I peer into the window of an empty grocery store with a big candy display. I walk further and see a dark window framed by burgundy velvet curtains. I look closer and see that the Mona Lisa is set up on a stand just inside the window. I smile at what a cliche the great painting seems in such a demure setting.

I hear a heartbeat and look anxiously around me. I am still alone. I look back at the Mona Lisa and she has started to glow. I press my forehead against the windowpane. Her face changes into a skull, the skin on her fingers peel back and show bones. At the center of the subtly smiling skeleton is a beating heart, straining to escape its ribcage.

Read/see the other dreams in this series, The Angel Singers Visit Me and The Feather and the Butterflies.

The Angel Singers Visit Me

[part 2 of a series] Every 4-6 months, I have an epic dream. These are dreams that are like journeys charted to my internal map that feel like salve on my soul. They are aptly timed and make my blood course through my veins. I suppose there is a part of me that feels like dreaming this sort of dream is like having a spiritual experience, or at least receiving a message bigger than that what a fortune cookie can deliver. The next piece of art that came from my recent class based on my dreams is an Epic Dream.

The Angel Singers Visit Me
dreamed August 10, 2008


8" x 8" acrylic, glitter and xylene transfer on claybord

I was at a bar with my parents, siblings and cousins that is near my cousin Layla's house that has pictures of heav metal bands all over the walls. I am surrounded by loved ones and about to eat a delicious cheeseburger named after Mötley Crüe.

I look up and see a small group of people in front of me; Neil Young is standing among them. I gasp and slowly move towards him. As I approach him I beckon to him to come in close so I can tell him a secret. I whisper in his ear

"You are one of my angels."

He looks into my eyes and says back, "because of my voice?" I nod. He then grabs me and and spins me around him in a giant embrace. He is beaming. I ask him

"Do you want to know who else are my angels?" He nods. I start listing

"Asdru from Ozomatli, Jerry Garcia, Perry Farrell, the Porcupine Singers... most importantly, Tom Waits..." Neil interrupts me and whispers close in my ear and says "Well, you're in luck then, darlin'."

I look up and on the little built-in stage Tom Waits himself is getting ready to play. My hands fly to my cheeks; I can't believe it. He plays two songs for us. He starts with "Cemetery Polka" and I just stand there staring at this madman 5 feet from me. I think he played a trumpet at one point which I don't think he really does in real life. My family is looking over at me smiling, so happy to see me so thrilled. My dad takes a picture of me.

Then Tom starts on "Who Are You", one of my very favorites of his vast repertoire. This song includes lines like "I fell in love with your sailor's mouth and your wounded eyes", lines that I have often thought if any man ever says to me I will marry him then and there and live happily ever after.

Tom was singing directly to me and he sings the line "I did my time in the jail of your arms" and its like a skipping record, he repeats that line 3, 4, 5 times just staring intensely into my eyes. I can feel Neil behind me with his hands gently on my shoulders. And I smile through the tears that are spilling down my face, because now I know why we were whispering- this is our secret.

After he finishes the song, Tom mumbles something incoherent into the mic but I swear I can make out that he says something like "you heard the important part," and I know he was talking to me. And he ambles offstage and Neil follows him.

I bite my lip and start walking towards my smiling family.

Read the first dream in this series, The Feather and the Butterflies.

The Feather and the Butterflies

[part 1 in a series] I took a wonderful class at the Callanwolde Fine Arts Center this summer called Photo Collage Your Dreams. I was drawn to the class because I have chronicled my dreams for decades in journals. Now, instead of writing in journals I contribute to a blog of dreams that my sister and I founded, the One Second Time Machine.

I have dreams that range from the magical and sublime to the bizarre and silly. I have dreams that chill me to the bone. I have always wanted to try to depict them as art pieces and never felt like I had the right tools to even attempt it. Finding and learning new techniques for visually depicting my dreams is what made me so excited to take this class. Now that it is complete, I couldn't be more pleased with the experience.

The class was taught by a lovely woman who is a wonderful artist, Elizabeth D'Angelo. Beth taught us techniques of transferring images onto canvas and claybord using xylene and spoons, layering them with washes of paint, embellishing by carving and even covering the surfaces with resin (which involved a superfun blowtorch!). She is a warm and thoughtful person who encouraged our writing as much as the visual art, and created a space where we easily and openly shared about our dreams - which often can be quite intimate.

The subject matter of the pieces I made was strictly dreams I have had and written about. Some of the dreams are detailed and complex, others are sound bytes and brain flashes. In the coming days I will post the images along with their corresponding dream here. Today is the first.

The Feather and the Butterflies
dreamed October 5, 2008


5"x7" acrylic, resin, xylene transfer and feather on claybord

I dreamed that I woke up and realized that the beautiful blue feather that Jill recently sent me - that I hung on my bed above where I sleep - had been eaten away. It was skeletal but for a few wisps and the silver spiral remained. I showed it to my mother who said "Looks like the butterflies ate it. Those butterflies eat everything."

Firebird

This is my most favorite new piece of street art:



I love it like I loved the Two-Headed Pegasus and of course, the Blah Girl. Its on Memorial near Boulevard and I'm hoping that the Wilderness Works people like it as much as I do. Otherwise, the Firebird won't be long for the world.

How I Survived the 2009 Georgia General Assembly - Part 1: Drawing Class

This post is the first in a series in which I will share with you, dear reader, the little things that kept me from losing my marbles during the 2009 Georgia General Assembly. This is no small task mind you when you're a low-budget lobbyist whose constituency is in prison. This session, I really wanted to explore different ways to ease stress and minimize the misery that has always defined the legislative session and hopefully find ways to be happy and fulfilled even when I'm losing on a daily basis at the Gold Dome.

This first installment in the series is about the wonderful drawing class I took at Callanwolde thanks to the generosity of my wonderful Mom and Dad. Thanks guys!! I considered that it might be slightly crazy to commit to a weekly responsibility in the evenings when we work such long days - in heels, on marble - but I found myself anxiously awaiting Tuesday nights and being up to my elbows in charcoal. Taught by Marc Brotherton, those 3 hours each week were a complete escape from the politics and strategies, my buzzing blackberry and my ever-growing to-do list.

To draw, you have to actually look. You really have to look at whatever it is in front of you. Marc ran us through all sorts of exercises to help us develop our hand-charcoal coordination, starting with 15 and 30 second drawing drills and eventually doing longer studies of still lifes and live models. And my drawing abilities actually improved!

In the beginning, Marc showed us different techniques like the ones in these three drawings from my first class:


Mass gesture is broad marks used to create density and weight.


Scribble gesture uses scribble scrabble to show weight and density.


Contour line gesture shows the outline and other visible edges of an object.

In later classes we continued with the drills to practice, but also got to do some cool techniques like this charcoal paper - you color the page with the charcoal and then use your eraser to create the shapes and lighting:



In other classes we got to bring in objects from home to draw. Of course I brought my skull, a.k.a. "The Old Girl" (minus her usual Bedouin headdress, naturally):



I got to bring in my favorite water pitcher, also a gift from Mom and Dad:



In the final weeks of the class we had live models pose for us. This was the most challenging part of the class for me, but also the most rewarding. It takes such a long time to really see the body, to see skin and its variety on a single body.



One thing I really learned from this class was that drawing is all about practice. The importance of warming up and repetition cannot be underestimated, and after a certain point looking and translating onto paper came much more naturally. I also learned that I LOVE charcoal - love it - and I love India ink. Great fun, these tools.

Something I learned about myself is that the strategic part of my mind and the creative side compliment each other nicely. I often found that driving home from class I would figure out the next step or the perfect person that could help me accomplish the next day's goals that had previously been eluding me.

Thanks again to Mom and Dad for the gift of this class! And thanks Marc for being a great teacher. Stay tuned for more tales of survival in the coming days in this (hopefully) last week of the legislative session.

Roses for Mom

16"x20", Acrylic, Gloss Media and Beads on canvas. Made with love for Christmas for my Mother who cultivates blossoms better than anyone and surrounds herself with their beauty.

For Emil

For Love and Loss, 11" x 14", acrylic, paper, and beads on canvas.

I painted this for my little brother Emil earlier this month for his birthday. I started out doing something totally different but this is what happened (perhaps he'll get the original thought for Christmas). The words on the scraps of paper that are sort of bursting out from the sides of the heart are from DeVotchKa's song "Dearly Departed". It's about the dark and light parts that come together to create deep love. I'm really happy with this piece which is a bit unusual for me. Most of the time I focus on some part that I couldn't get right and can't get past it. This one though turned out just right, and better than I had hoped.

San Francisco in September #3: the Murals in the Mission

Perhaps our most favorite part of my Mom and my trip to San Francisco last month was a mural tour we took in the Mission put together by Precita Eyes Mural Arts Center. Our guide's name was Jorge, a kind and gentle spirit who told the stories behind the murals that we felt so lucky to hear.

One of the first murals we saw was called "Solidarity: Breaking Down Barriers" and was painted by youth in the Mission. It was dedicated "from the heart of the Mission to the barriers around the world that separate our families... la lucha continua!" Here are three pictures of it:







We saw several pieces by this artist whose name I regrettably cannot remember. This piece is called "The Immigrant" and it shows a man leaving his wife and homeland for the blank TV stares of the United States.



Ultimately the immigrant is able to find his own community here, surrounded by friends and watched over by the gods of his homeland.



This next one was painted by the great muralist, Susan Kelk Cervantes, and is on the Cesar Chaves Elementary School, a lovely and welcoming school that fully integrates deaf children.



The Clarion Alley Mural Project is at least 20 individual murals that run through the alley between Mission and Valencia, parallel to 17th and 18th streets. One mural after another took my breath away. This one shows Archbishop Oscar Romero, bishop of the Poor, surrounded by community and milagros:



I loved this paint bucket heart milagros, a perfect symbol for the murals:



This alley mural shows New Orleans after Katrina. Each of the little pictures shows all sorts of things that were lost in the Storm.



At the beginning of the alley, the Virgen de Guadalupe was painted to offer protection.



If you find yourself in San Francisco for some period of time, I cannot encourage you enough to go visit the Mission and take this tour offered by Precita Eyes Gallery and get to know the district through the eyes of its artists. Read more about our San Francisco trip in my posts about the delicious food and sea lions.

Carnival of the Dead

A Carnival of sorts is coming into town. Think, Ring Master.... Ring Mistress... Freak Show... Oddities... Delight... Contortionists... The Big Top.... Entertainment... Mysticism... Think......
Well, perhaps you should just go on over to http://www.carnivalofthedead.com/!

This year's Day of the Dead/ Halloween celebration will be like no other!!! The space is unlike any I have ever seen-- a club opening by artists for artists. I can't even begin to describe it all here.... you will have to just take this Ring Mistress' word for it and be there yourself!

For $10 (buy online at http://www.carnivalofthedead.com/) you will receive a door prize ticket, unlimited beer and wine, food, access to a variety of carnival delights and all sorts of entertainment..... A portion of the proceeds will go to a fantastic non-profit... Check out the website for more information.

Fire Breathing Diva starts at 10:30. Costume Contest is at 11:30. Feel free to distribute far and wide! All are welcome at the Carnival of the Dead!

Autumn Mourning

This is the painting I bought this afternoon at Oakland Cemetery's Sunday in the Park. It's called Autumn Mourning and was painted by a lovely woman named Angie Wehunt. It is mixed media: oil pastels, tissue paper, acrylic and even tiny gold flakes that look like tear drops from her right eye. All of her work is vibrant and made me smile, but this one was by far the darkest of Angie's paintings, so naturally it was the one I was drawn to.

I hung it in my bedroom -it looks perfect on my Atlanta-sky-blue walls. I've already twice walked by it and automatically pressed my palm to her face. I actually had to resist the urge to kiss her on her tiny heart shaped lips. I couldn't be more happy that I have this beautiful piece that reflects the loss but also hope that I feel during my autumn, mourning.

Cooking Makes Her Happy

This is a painting I did a couple years ago that lives in Ela's house now; she calls it a Kitchen Goddess. For me, I think it will always be called Cooking Makes Her Happy. It was a one-hour painting (more like one afternoon) that I did on a night like tonight: a night that I spend content and complete cooking in my home.



It's so funny how we lose track of the things that ground us the most when our pace is that of hummingbirds. Listening to the new Jenny Lewis and the old Yeah Yeah Yeahs records in my kitchen while making Potato Leek Soup and Baked Zucchini was more satisfying to me, just plain me, than anything else this week. I even had a theme that guided my recipe choices: my favorite herb, Herbes de Provence - a savory blend of rosemary, thyme, marjoram, basil, bay leaf and lavender that's used a lot in French and Irish recipes.

I stood in my usual spot to the right of the stove chopping, mixing, flavoring and tasting. I felt complete and peaceful and stopped moving for a few moments to make sure that the calm was real.

Some of my favorite memories of growing up are those simple, mundane evenings sitting down to dinner at my mother's kitchen table. She always lays out a spread, a main dish with sides that compliment and enhance it and each other. She approaches food preparation for us, her loved ones, effortlessly but with the coordination of a stylist. I have seen myself so many times in the mirror to the left of my seat of the dinner table, reflected as a mural with the ones I love most and the meals that nourished our bellies and hearts.

Foghorn Leghorn with devil ghosties

This is my new piece of art that I got today from the Slotin Folk Art Fest.

Its by an artist named Jonesy who has recently relocated from San Francisco to Atlanta and will soon be working at East Atlanta Tattoo.

I love it because the ghosts are cuddly and drippy and one is even devilish. Not to mention the giant bird that makes me think of Foghorn Leghorn, a character that has become quite dear to me after years of working with seersucker-wearing Georgia politicians that sometimes sound just like him.

I really love this bird's stupid feet. So stupid! Anyway I love it and I can't wait to put it up. Thanks Jonesy!

Carnivals and Festivals

This weekend, be sure to take a walk on over to the Georgia Blog Carnival, a collection of writing from the last couple weeks from bloggers across our lovely state.


For Atlanta folks who share a similar passion for folk art, check out the Slotin Folk Art Festival happening this weekend. Folk Art is my favorite, and was recently wonderfully surprised on my visit to the Milwuakee Art Museum to see their enormous collection of folk art, including several pieces from Georgia's own Howard Finster.

I'll report back tomorrow with whatever ridiculous piece of art I'm sure I'm going to purchase!

Bound Heart with Bees

11" x 8", handmade paper, tissue paper, taffeta, acrylic, glitter

Thanks to Charlotta for the paper!

The New Resident of the Krog Street Tunnel

I love taking pictures out the window of my car. Yes, while driving (sorry, Mom!). I love when I'm able to get a solid shot even while the car is moving, and it often not until hours later till I'm able to look and see if I got anything good. This hobby flourishes in Atlanta where we are lucky to have some of the most amazing street artists I've ever seen.

Here is a shot taken tonight out the passenger window in the dark that came out really well featuring a brand new mural on the DeKalb Avenue side of the Krog Street Tunnel.


I don't know whose idea it was to put Bob up, but I can't think of a better addition to the many wonderful pieces in the Krog Tunnel.

And on the topic of Bob Marley, check out Andisheh Nouraee's column about Zimbabwe. He mentions in it that Zimbabwe inaugurated its nationhood with a Bob Marley concert. If you've never seen this footage, its worth a watch.




As always, Bob sang of difficult truths, foreshadowing:

So soon we’ll find out who is the real revolutionaries
And I don’t want my people to be tricked by mercenaries.

Goodbye Two-Headed Pegasus

Its no secret that I love street art. I am drawn to the ones that are pink, blue, and are designs that make me smile. One of my favorite pieces - besides the Blah Girls of course - is this two-headed pegasus/donkey/kangaroo playful beast that was wheat-pasted on the Marta wall on Wylie Street in Cabbagetown. Its been there for at least 6 months and I grin every time I drive by it.

Just about two weeks ago I finally pulled over to take a picture of it:

I had meant to document it ages ago and despite always having my camera in my purse, just never stopped the car to shoot it.

I'm so glad I stopped that afternoon a couple weeks ago, because as I drove down Wylie Street this afternoon, I saw that the Two-Headed Beast got blown away with the tornado.

Goodbye, Sweet Beast! Thank you to your creator for the many, many Cabbagetown smiles you brought me.

Nuclear Spine

Nuclear Spine, 24" x 12", acrylic on canvas.

It was really nice to spend some time painting this weekend.

Last night I had a dream where all my teeth were falling out. I was so freaked out and kept telling myself in my dream that if I just woke up it would be okay. I have weird teeth dreams every couple years.

In the middle of the dream I look up from my handful of newly lost teeth and see Barack Obama was there. Interpretations are welcome.