This has been another Second Seating day. What 's new? It's now 7:00 p.m. and a few minutes ago, I poured myself a goblet of chilled white wine. Think I'm through for the day which began at 6:00 a.m.
Worked on the gallery guide and sent the first draft with all of its blank space to each of the artists so they can fill in titles and dimensions and prices. I need a short bio of each artist. You know, I am really excited about this group of artists. Each is so talented and their work for Second Seating is really going to surprise folks. When we meet tomorrow at the space, I'll gather some information from Jose and Ted and get it in draft form for them to take a look. And then I'll call everyone else and get theirs in draft form for review, rewrite, whatever.
Also got closer to the final draft of a very 'short story' about the East End and shot it off to Mary Vargo for read. There is nothing she doesn't know about the East End and she says she'll take a look.
Also tightened the several paragraphs I've been working on about Doris Bain Thompson. My mom is 92 and several weeks ago I experienced an epiphany. I have her genes after all and with Second Seating, I may well be doing what she did with her choirs in Aruba. We are both able to think something up from scratch and make it work. After I made this startling connection, I decided to dedicate Second Seating to my mother and though I called Seattle and told her, it will bear retelling again and again. My mom has increasing dementia and it has taken its bitter toll on her ability to retain information or to articulate her own thoughts. But back in her prime time? Well, that's another thing altogether. She had guts and vision.
Here's a photo of her taken last Christmas. She'd broken her arm and was in the hospital for awhile. But she's looking pretty good in this picture. I wish she could see this show. Makes me think I should find someone who can take a video of the opening. Now that, she and Dad would enjoy.
Break time after writing about Mom. I walked out to the oyster shell pile which is something I do often now. That oyster shell pile simply calls me these days.
I've just realized why. Granted, I need to check on them and turn them so they get clean with rain and sun for Second Seating. But every time, I go out there, I also select at least a dozen or two and bring them back into the kitchen sink to scrub and dry. My kitchen counter is covered with oyster shells. There may be 100 shells drying there and I plan to write gold words on each and bake them. Point is, I really like 'choosing' things and the oyster pile is as good as a resale shop. And today, I occurred to me that maybe folks at the opening might like to buy a shell with a word like 'love' or 'longing' or 'yes' or 'maybe' on it.
Sort of a little present to take home? Or give someone?
After the shelling expedition, I glued more collage pieces together and they are now weighted down with big books. The collages are just about done. On Tuesday, I'll buy sheets of plexi and begin drilling holes for the little brass carpet nails that I use to affix plexi to frame.
Took another break to read parts of the NYT, ate a couple of bowls of pecan praline ice cream with sliced bananas. Really. The last thing I need.
Mid-afternoon, I cut and sewed another vesty garment made from my stash of fabrics salvaged from Hurricane Ike. The first vest I made with some of these fabrics, I took to Turkey and to Seattle and I like it very much. Here's a photo of it taken in Discovery Park, where by the way there's been a real live cougar on the loose. Which they caught last night and will take to 'the wild.'
But the garment I put together this afternoon leaves a lot to be desired. It's not what I want to wear for the opening, though that was the intention when I began.
I began to search my closet and now my bed is piled with stuff. All fashion disasters. I need to wear a 'piece of work' basically. After I tried about 15 different approaches, I took a patchwork wall hanging I made for the show and wrapped it around my waist and then above my waist, Empire style.
It was the first thing that made sense. And looked like Second Seating. I wish I had a dress form my size so I could drape the thing. More and more I think about that draping class I took my junior year in college. It was as useful as an Algebra class. Or physics 101. One doesn't always realize how often we call upon the information we learn in basic classes. I may take the wall hanging to the alternation shop and hope they take mercy on me. Maybe they can drape it on me and put elastic through the top. Or I'll find harem pants - wish I'd bought them in Turkey when I saw them at that roadside stand by an ancient aqueduct. But it was either look at the aqueduct or shop. Actually, I think I did some of both, but not as much shopping as I might have liked.
So, late in the day, I made another trip out to the oyster shell pile. And then took a look at the clock and poured a glass of wine.
Tomorrow, I meet Ted and Jose in the space. We'll unpack their work and imagine where it will be installed. And the carpenter should be there with his helper and we'll build shelves for the Wall of Plates. Then I'll be busy with house paint and a 100 plates.
Talk soon again.