2005-03-06 @ 12:36 a.m.
Well, today was pretty much, ART, ART and then more ART. My kind of day. I had decided to put that 4th piece into the art show today and gotten one of those damn $5 frames at Michael’s. Unfortunately they neglected to put in one of the tiny nails which attaches the metal thingie you hang it on. So I had to improvise. After much cursing and hammer banging I finally attached it with two brass tacks and then taped the hell out of it.
By then it was nearly noon, the time when our Fearless Art Leader was supposed to be arriving at the art gallery to hang the show, so I roared on over. Fortunately, Mother Nature decided not to be a bitch today, so there were no blinding blizzards or ice rink roads. It was even sunny. WTF? This can’t be that place near Canada! About the only eeky part was driving past this park where they found a murdered person last night. In the summer, it’s known primarily for its beautiful rose gardens, but now, we’ll probably only remember it as the place to dump murdered bodies. Yay! Mulch anyone?
When I got there, our Fearless Art Leader was waiting at the elevator surrounded by all the artwork in their various containers. When I told him I had another piece, so I would be taking one back, he was like P’shaw, put them all up. So I probably have the most pieces of anyone in the show. Before the elevator got there, we were joined by some of our regulars who were there to help hang the show. The gallery looked large and blank when we got there, but F.A.L. (Fearless Art Leader) was soon arranging the pieces so that they wouldn’t conflict with each other artistically and then four or five of the guys started to hang the pieces. We even had sculptures for the first time.
Me and “L” the older Hippy Chick who I really like, was there with her little grandson. She hasn’t been to class lately, and I’ve really missed her, so we caught up on stuff. She is really funny and I feel really comfortable around her. I was suddenly telling her about wanting to invite the much younger Mysterious Paul, but that I was too shy, and she was trying to encourage me. She said she couldn’t think of a single reason why I shouldn’t have a boy toy as a date and said that I possessed a certain virginal quality that men might find appealing. (heh, heh. What do you think “A”? Do I have a virginal quality? Yeah, I think so too. Definitely!). She then said she had it too, even though she’s had kids. She said its almost as if she had her kids by immaculate conception, you know, since she’s so virginal looking. By then we were both cackling like old hens. Two virginal hens.
We really weren’t much help on the installation of the show. We just walked around and looked at all the wonderful art our community has produced. There was this one outrageous piece. What a riot. It was of Mike our Exhibitionist Model. He’s the one who does all the weird wigged out shit like attaching clamps to his penis and stuff. (ok, he doesn’t quite do that, but he has used battery cables in strange ways). Anyways, this one artist did this drawing of him the night he dressed up like an escaped axe wielding bloodied sex maniac from an insane asylum. He then built this three dimensional frame around the picture which looks like it was made from roof shingles splattered with blood and then added a little instruction booklet, hanging off the picture, which tells how to sharpen your axe. Amazingly, one of the drawings I submitted is of the same model with the same “costume”, but needless to say, its not quite on the level of “Scary Nudie Guy” with blood speckles.
While the pictures were being hung I would occasionally “supervise”, like say, “That should be 1/300th inch higher” or “Its 1:00, where’s the snacks?” (I neglected to eat anything when I got up, so it was 1:30 and I was starving). “K”, my Second Potential Art Class Husband, who I have long since abandoned, because he’s been so slow in culminating any kind of luurve connection with me, talked to me a little. And today, for the first time, I realized that maybe I make him nervous. Like I’m this goddess and he’s fumbling not to sound like a geek. I’m not used to that. I’m usually the geek, tripping over my own damn self. I told him that I had tried to get to the art class two weeks ago, but that all my car door locks were frozen shut and he very excitedly said, “Well, you should have called me. I would have come and got you!!”
Really? Who knew. Certainly not me. I had called his answering machine once when my car didn’t start and I was trying to get to a board meeting, but now I have this open ended invite for transportation. How exciting! But then that was where he started to stumble. He mentioned my e-mail address. I have several. You know, since I’m so important and all. Anyways, the one he mentioned, he pronounced wrong. It has an Irish connotation. And then he started talking about Green Men, and I wasn’t sure if that was a rock band or space aliens or something related to Ireland. And then he was clearly embarrassed because I kept saying, “Huh? What? Green men?” And then the poor guy started to stammer. I never did figure out what Green Men was.
Finally at about 1:45 all the artwork was up and we had to have the obligatory “We’re well hung” comment which always follows. I came home and had lunch....finally. I was going to take a nap since my sleep has been seriously lacking lately, but I decided to put a little effort into at least making an attempt to look somewhat lovely for the opening reception at 4:00. I also considered calling Mysterious Paul on the phone, but I just couldn’t do it. I felt too damn silly calling a guy to go look at nude drawings with me. I did look for my digital camera though. Thought it would be cool to at least take a couple of shots of the event, and amazingly I had the batteries charging in a wall unit. And I hadn’t even used the camera in months. Yay me!
I actually went back around 4:30. You know how girls are about the amount of time it takes to get lovely. I had chosen to wear this certain black sweater which I was going to leave unbuttoned all the way below my push up bra. How sassy am I? But the girls are so tiny, it really doesn’t matter. I have no cleavage no matter how hard I try. And when I got to the building I did button the bottom button so it wasn’t quite so (cough) breezy on the boobs. Honestly witty. Do you really think anyone even cares about your cleavage? And besides, nobody has a magnifying glass with them anyways. Sigh.
When I got there, it wasn’t very crowded...
I wandered around. “L” the Hippy Chick was there once again with her grandson. We chatted for a while. She’s currently in a theatre production in a small part. I warned her if she drank too much caffeine, she might try and take over the whole play and try to sing and dance all the parts simultaneously, because that’s what I do when I drink caffeine. I sing and act out entire Broadway plays by myself. Guard Cat really enjoys them, especially when I do “CATS”. She laughed.
More people finally started filtering in. I saw the Professional Artist Guy who always says hi and smiles at me every week, and I guess I got my answer today. He has a significant other. Damn. Isn’t that always the way? The one guy who smiles at you every week has a wifie-type person on their arm. Fruck.
Lots of people were taking pictures. I attempted to use my digital camera several times, and as usual, being a techno-dumb girl, I managed to take pictures of the ceiling and of my shoes. I did finally manage to take a shot of two of my pictures which were hung next to each other. I was going to run around and surreptitiously shoot photos of all my art buddies, but again the shy-thing got in the way. And also it appears that I somehow pushed some button on the digital camera which had my camera on a timer, so I would aim it at things, and think I had the picture and then it was flash like 47 seconds later. So more ceiling and shoes pictures. Grrr! Digital cameras are evil. I did ask F.A.L. if he would take my picture with my camera after he shot a picture of me with his camera, and it came out pretty good. So I guess it was just user malfunction.
I did finally get up the gumption to talk to some other people. Talked to “J” about his trip to NYC last weekend to see Christo’s Gates. As usual, I was just about ready to pee my pants in excitement about the whole damn thing. One thing I didn’t realize was that the Gates varied in size. I thought they were a uniform size, but “J” told me their width depended on the width of the trail or sidewalk. See! There’s something you didn’t hear on the news. I also talked to this other guy for quite a while. (He’s married “A”, so don’t get any ideas). We just talked about art and gossiped about the models and who we liked and who was interesting. But boy was he tall. I got a crick in my neck talking to him. He was like 6 ft. 5” and I’m like about Mickey Rooney size. Ouch.
We were then joined by “K” and our other resident cool artist, who I’ll call Comic Sci Fi Guy. He’s a regular and he’s on the board and he has this huge laugh and is very funny. Earlier in the day, he had been playing with “L”s little grandson and was telling him to punch “K” in the leg. And I said, “Promoting violence, huh?” And he burst out laughing and said, “And after that I’ll teach him how to smoke cigars and drink beer, since I’m the funny uncle.” He was only kidding, of course, since he was very gentle with the kid and obviously a Dad.
But as we were all standing around talking about art and different artists and different styles of art, just me and the guys (there were very few women at the show and very few submitted work) it was kind of fun. I really felt like I was in my element. The show, a year ago, I didn’t feel like that, but now, its like I’m part of something. And I’m not quite so squirmy about fessing up to which pieces of art are mine on the wall. I mean, I am not as good as about 75% of them, but I have my own style, and I’m finally getting to the point where I’m able to accept what what I do, and that its okay. I think if everyone’s art looked the same, how dull that would be? I still gotta get to MOMA though.
When I got home there were 5 calls from my mother on my Caller ID and I thought, oh shit, another crisis that will probably ruin about the best day in the last month or so. So I called her back and she was all excited. She said, “Guess what?” And I’m like what? And she said, you were just on TV three times!! And I’m like “Whhaa--tt?”
You don’t tell a Paranoid they’re on television, because they’ll think television crews have been secretly taping them burning down buildings or having elicit sex with farm animals. So she said, “No, you were on the news. They had a story about the YMCA and “B” (my mom’s friend) said she saw you exercising on the treadmill.
Oh. That! Phew! That I remember. That was about three weeks ago. I had watched that damn TV channel for several days, waiting to see the footage they had shot but it had never come on. Figures I would miss it. Damn. My big local news television debut. Although I did get interviewed in a Man on the Street thing once when I first moved here. And wouldn’t you know it. I had a humongi zit about the size of Greenland on my chin that day. And that was all I could see during the entire interview. They even had to use a wide angle lens in order to film
But, all in all, a good day. No lost limbs. I have four pieces of art hanging in an art gallery. And if I squint really hard, I can even pretend its in SOHO.
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty