Today was a magically sunny day and my day off so I spent it wandering around, having lunch with a friend I hadn't seen in ages, and drawing in the library. The sun coming in windows makes me think Spring may come soon and the story of the governor's fall from grace for bad behavior has me still thinking about public trust.

This might all fit into a short (or long) story but I'll spill this image out here, empty my pockets to see the lint.

Bright sun reflected off dirty snow, a balmy 40 degree day so we all walked around without our hats on. A whole hatless city. I drew a mounted policeman from a couple of angles. The cop (wearing a bold yellow jacket and a little riding cap) was on a cell phone but his horse was paying close attention to the street activity. Seemed like the horse was watching me draw it. A block away firemen knocked icicles off of a building so they wouldn't impale someone waiting for the bus.



So much more of life in the little details than in the big scandals.

Rachael

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Really, this is just an excuse to share an image from an old magazine that has ricochetted through my visual memory for years and continues to have a presence in my paintings, in my imagination, and in the stories I tell...

From an Umberto Eco essay about the bean to a vivid memory of an image of (I think it was) soybeans in a box in a copy of National Geographic when I was a kid to what I might grow in my garden, I am thinking about beans.

The wonder fruit.


My stories are still brewing including but not limited to my Polish plumber (Pawel Kaczor) who is now a lot more real a character for having flaws and strengths and a bit of a tendency to run away from his emotions. The story has characters, plot, and presence but it isn't quite done. Close, but not yet ready to serve. I hope that in the same way I used to have several paintings brewing at once, having several stories simmering will help them all be better said. It's a hope, a dream, a method, a plan.

In each little indentation, a different bean with a different story. These beans, after all, are everywhere.

Rachael

Umberto Eco and Salman Rushdie are coming to Rochester to talk. I really can't wait to hear them and scribble my drawing, writing notes and the excuse to read more of the work of both writers, sharpening my Italian again, and trying to be a better writer with the influence of two very smart and relevant men (and the smart writers in my class and the dynamic professor).

Off to paint, write and otherwise stir up some trouble in my studio.

Rachael

This Courbet painting looks like Johnny Depp. Not a problem, really, just fascinating. As more people go to movies than to museums always and always, we all shout, "hey it looks like Johnny Depp" and maybe Johnny Depp says, "Hey I look like Gus Courbet."
I guess the ravaging-artist-genius look is one that hasn't changed much from 1845 to 2007. Something about the intensity of this self-portait of the artist as a hair-puller, eyes wide open, wrists exposed makes me want to head to New York and spend some hours staring at Courbet. The Met can use this dead-ringer for sexy movie star to pull in visitors and not pay the actor a dime. John May blogged this years ago, smarter and with a better picture.

And maybe we all have an historical doppelganger, maybe our appearances are never as distinctively original as we hope...

First, I'd like to report that making tapioca pudding is much easier than I thought it would be, course I did it the lazy way. Next time, I'll try it slow cooked. Looks like brains but tastes good. Taste and texture combined.
In other news, the snow today was perfect for packing into snowballs and throwing at trees (which I pretended were people who have recently told me no). Its only a stinker when the snow doesn't hit the tree but falls into the ground all peace-full like. Baloney.
And then I got to thinking about salmon.
because I read a bunch of short funny essays by Umberto Eco, while the tapioca cooled and the snow fell and my pride healed (apparently one cannot be a part-time phD candidate in the department of my choosing, still makes me want to throw a snowball).

More Eco (less noise?):

Lots of good stuff at the Modern Word

This might be one of my favorite bits of Eco, a charming rant about cell phone exhibitionism...

Next up for me, maybe, is to read The Gorge story.

So then I guess it's time to go read and sleep and dream and watch the snow fall in the moonlight and realize that I don't need no stinking degree and writing fiction is more fun anyway and it's a good idea to relax and sleep so I can wake up tomorrow with the strength to do what needs to be done.
thanks for listening, want some pudding?
Rachael