on the passing of Barbara Valianti

it wasn't supposed to go down like this.  we were supposed to be raising hell in the old age home.  we were supposed to be wise old crones together. instead she slipped away in the early hours yesterday.

I thought there was time,yet for us to laugh and finish our paintings.  i thought there would be time for a proper goodbye.

now there are no words for the hole in my heart.

rest peacefully, my friend...i know our paths will cross again.

Georgia O Keeffe; living modern

finally made it to the o'keeffe show at the brooklyn museum. i love stieglitz photographs of o'keeffe, but i love her paintings more. i would have preferred more painting,less photos.
speaking of photographs, i took a bunch of blurry pix at the exhibit .

the iconic hat         

an  early drawing

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 her shoes

some dresses

sculpture

some paintings

recent work

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still life

homage to klimt

water towers

collage featuring brancusi sculpture

dreams of paris

i have this recurring dream: i finally make it to Paris but i can't get out of the hotel room  .the scenarios change each time...a different reason why i can't get out.

sometimes the doors and windows are locked.  i can see the iconic tower but i can't get to it. once the building was under terrorist 's control;once under government control.  often times its because i have no money and fear an encounter with the concierge . sometimes its just because of my daily living anxiety...how hard it is for me to just go outside.  those times i am alone,but occassionally i'm with someone who is preventing me from leaving the room.

always i am fully....achingly aware that i am only here for a short time which adds to the frustration and desperation to get out/ the time in paris won't last long and all i can do is gaze out the window and watch the city from inside.  how like life...so short...and still,i observe far more often than i participate.

black and white paintings

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rooftop

i've lived most of my life in boxes...big brick buildings;tall, square rooms.;heavily .barricaded from the outside world.....except for the glorious years in national city where i had an outside life with real earth under my feet and space to make art everyday. many   thanks to jeanne and quentin where ever they are.'

i've hidden my self in boxes, too.  Large and sharp edged, packed in layers of flesh as substantial as brick.