I dog-eared after the reading THE END, when it wasn’t. I still had 16 pages left. I probably could have finished, I thought, as I sat in the train noticing that it took longer than I estimated it would. I debated cracking it back open while I swayed staring aimlessly as the train tunneled from the point of entry from the bridge until the Atlantic-Pacific stop. Ah, well. Why rush? Let it all digest, I guess. Actually, it was little nagging. I really had anticipated finishing, even threw a couple of Buffy comics in my expandable file folder just in case. (The accordion style safekeeping was for work papers, just thought I should mention.) But alas, I got through Julie’s Julia project, down to the duck de-bone, but there was a bit more to go. I preemptively thought about how nicely this book would look on top of Olive Kitteridge, the first book I had finished with my new-found transit time. It has been a long time that I was afforded significant subway time, and I have been relishing in it lately as I shuttle from place to place, making house calls doing estimates for a moving company that I work for. I have found myself eying the spines of the books in our apartments and mentally making a plan of attack. Fictions, Memoirs, Plays, Short Story collections and more seem to edge themselves off the shelves. A couple rereads tempt me (I read John Irving way to young, I think I can appreciate some parts of Garp with a little bit of experience below my belt.) However, I have so many new things to sink my teeth into. I am not a particularly fast reader. The first time I read Wicked it took months, granted this was in college when I had school work, there was no musical to accompany, and it had slid down the back of my loft and hid behind my roommates bed. I always feel a sense of accomplishment finishing a book. It’s funny in some ways, being proud of doing something you love. But in some respects it takes work to make that time. Sometime literally, when the work you do gives you a commute and some sit down time. So with that said, I am sharing with you an in progress piece that I am working on in the “things I miss” series I have mentioned a few times in the last few entries. I used to work at a Border’s bookstore in Canton, Ohio. There was always a library cart that sat near the information desk where books were placed and shelved back to where they belonged in a continuous flow throughout the day and finished off at night. It was a great job, with great people. The painting and this book (and the paperwork for the jobs today) are just a few things that I hope to complete soon.
I am getting ready to to another painting, very appropriate to my current situation. This is the sketch that I scanned to re-size to fit it's destination. This new series that I am working on focuses on uses images to represent objects, events, people, and times that I miss. I have a few hours in between jobs today and I am spending them at home finishing up a few more of these paintings as well as hoping to catch the UPS delivery for it's third and final attempt at delivery. The alternative if missed is a long, long subway ride to the end of the line to pick it up at the warehouse, that is if the don't send it back to the original distributor. The package contains two hex chains and locks for our bicycles(which are both taking up space in our apartment.) Last year Amanda's bicycle was stolen, so we replaced it and I was given a great thre speed by a friend. We shared a lock if we rode together, and kept one chained out front and the other upstairs when not in use. Recently, my bike chain was stolen. Just the chain. At first I wasn't sure if I should feel insulted or not. But the way I figure, they were able snip the lock with some something heavy duty, and then pull the chain from around the pole and off the bike. However, I bet they were slowed down by the cable that I run through my front wheel(it looked like they tried to cut it, but but it was still looped around the wheel.) Still, they made off with an expensive chain and destroyed the not so cheap lock. Our birthdays are just a few days apart so my mom asked what we would want. I was leaning towards pony, but being able to ride our bicycles again seems more practical.
...and also with you. This is a scan of a drawing I did while babysitting some kids that just today I was super excited to share the Star Wars Day play on words awesomeness. I think the littlest one(year and half) mistook my clothing choice to be a representation a "disturbing lack of faith"(guess he prefers hokey religions and ancient weaponry) or something when he puked on my Han Solo shirt. He seemed alright after my costume change when he also later got to play it like Yoda when I debuted the piggy-back style Bjorn carry on the walked to his older brothers' after school pickup.
It was humid as all heck today. I found the pieces of the oscillating fan, assembled the thing and sent it spinning to circulate the stale air. The process of pulling air from the front window and pushing it the length of the apartment and out again through the open windows in the back displaced loose papers and scattered them across the floor. Papers stuck with pins to the wall flipped and curled and softly sounded while they flittered with the breeze it made. I scooped up a few studies and tapped the stack on the table to straighten the pile of printouts and drawings. On the other side of the room placed on a brown paper covered table, several substrates are being prepared with paint applied in thin layer, smoothed after it dried and layered again until it's ready to add my image. I have finished a few pieces and am now working on the next batch that will be displayed at the end of the month at Fringe Salon in the Lower East Side. Over to the left is a drawing I did in preparation for one of the paintings in this series. Makes me miss the smell of the water and the refreshing sensation of splashing around. I'm 'bout do for a good jump in a lake, I suppose. Not sure there's much in the way of swimming holes in these part.