BWAC sculpture show at DUMBO

I saw the 27th ( I think) annual BWAC sculpture show at the park in dumbo in Brooklyn the last time I was there visiting my son,Cassady, my daughter-in -law, Daisy and my grandson Chunka Munka. Cass and I walked there from their apartment in Cobble Hill. We walked Smith St, then down Fulton, and down Adams st I think. I don't ever remember that walk as well as some of our other walks, such as the walk to Red Hook, because I am distracted by the need to cross very large streets with lots of traffic. Cass pushed Chunky in his stroller. It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon. I love walking around Brookly. I can get to know a place so much better on foot because I'm not a very comfortable driver but I can walk and walk and walk, and in Brooklyn lots of people are walking too.
The show itself was very exciting for me. I have had the priveledge of collaborating with a wonderful woman, Jodi, the art teacher in one of the Boces high schools in our town, for the past 2 years, doing special art projects. It has been so much fun for me to work with students that age in that way and they have made some very cool art. This year I am hoping to continue our collaboration and I was thinking about outdoor sculpture as a possible project. The show at DUMBO was outdoor sculpture but with a light hearted, temporary approach which made it very unique in my experience. there was a cloth hanging beautifully attached with a wire structure, many from found pieces of wood, broken furniture, metal pieces and a lovely hanging piece made of pieces of mirror. And an incredible banner grouping that was reminicent of Tibeten prayer cloths but made from various beautiful plastic shopping bags. Thank you BWAC for that wonderful inspiration.

The Royal Flush

I am featured right now on my daughters blog interviewing other artists.
The link is here....
Creative Voices

I am truly terrible at marketing my art. I have been blessed with my friendship with Alice Mulhback who has the Spirit and Kitsch gallery who has really bugged me to produce, my friendship with Linda Coale who has totally encouraged me and shown my stuff to other people who loved and wanted it, as well as many other friends and family members[ my husband, Peter and my son,Cassady are both superbly able to critique a painting or drawing and spot what it needs]Right now my daughter Strawberry Curls is encouraging me to use the computer as a connecting tool.

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My baby girl. I wanted a baby from the time I was a child. I loved babysitting as a teenager and was very fond of many of my charges. So when I got pregnant in 1971 at the age of 21 I was very happy at the prospect. Oh my! Stars in my eyes and hope in my heart- that was me on the back of a motorcycle heading to California. I had quit college[for the second time!] and spent the summer painting a big Greek revival house in upstate New York.
Believe it or not , we built a lean-to at the edge of a farmer's field [without asking anyone] next to a little stream that emptyed into Cayuga Lake.
On rainy nights I woke up with our mosquito netting walls blowing in the wind. At evening time we came back from our job, bathed in the stream, cooked our dinner over a campfire. There were more fireflies in that field than I had ever seen.
By the end of the summer I was pregnant. Although I had only known my boyfriend a few months I never considered ending my pregnancy- I had wanted a baby forever.
With some of our painting money we bought a motorcycle--sorry i cannot remember what kind it was but not a Harley Davidson--and headed west.
Not the best mode of transportation for a pregnant girl! We made it to St. Louis and there,fearing an imminent miscarriage,we sold the bike and bought a used Volkswagon bus.
Crossing the bridge out of St. Louis, giddy on our new wheels, we picked up several hitchhikers -two callow youths who wer going a hundred miles own and Harold Matthew Pintor,old and rheumy, heading for Laramie st in Denver.
He told us his story of working for the railroad and now staying with off and on with an old sister to whom he gave his pension.
but sometimes the mood took him and he had to hit the road. He had 36 cents and so offered to pay part of the toll.
We listened to his stories and bought him a couple of meals and a pack of Pall Malls. He cried as I slipped him $10 when we dropped him off at his orner in Denver. "It hurts me"he said "No one has ever been so nice to me."

Dog Series

Rainbow Dancer

Thought Woman
(will soon be taking a better piture, w/o the reflection of the lights in the background!)

Dancing Mother Earth