When your head is in the clouds the years just slip by.
Leave a commentIn The Cloud
Matter Of Fact I Do Own The Road
This was an especially bad year for potholes with the wild temperature fluctuations. The ground would freeze and heave and then settle down with a thaw. Water would get in and then it would freeze and the pavement cracked and the snowplow scraped off the high spots and salt got in and melted the ice until the temp dropped again and it expanded.
No one told us that we own our road when we moved in here. We found out when the first Pothole Day was scheduled. The twelve houses on this street jointly own the road, not the town. This could be problematic if we all don’t get along but fortunately we do. Today was Pothole Day and it took a couple of hours to patch a series of holes that one of our neighbors had already cleaned out with a leaf blower.
Leave a commentI Paint What’s Inside Me
We opened the garage door of my parents old place at 8 this morning and there was already a handful of hungry garage sale hounds trying to get in. We brought all sorts of furniture out onto the driveway and then it would rain and we’d move it back in and when the rain let up we’d move it back out again. And all the while people came and left with their arms full.
A woman with a buzz cut came up to me with a vase that had been marked two dollars and asked if I would take five cents. I said, “We’ll, that’s one fortieth of what we were asking but sure.” The offer was so bold, I liked it. She turned out be a special person who was shopping with an aid. She said, “I hear you’re into art.” I said, “I’m way into art” and she said “I paint abstracts. I paint what’s in inside me.” I tried to give her encouragement but she didn’t really need any. I had placed a partially used, ten gallon bucket of drywall compound in the “Free Stuff” pile and a woman asked how much we wanted for it. I said free and she heard “three” so she gave my brother-in-law three bucks. My brother-in-law is good. He was even able to sell one of my father’s bricks.
My high school girlfriend stopped by and showed me a picture her grandson painted. It was great to see her. My parent’s next door neighbor kept stopping in, I mean like ten times, and she paid for all her purchases in quarters but each time she would negotiate the sale and then go back to her house for the coins. My father took us all down to Nick’s for dinner and Nick stopped by the table to tell us a few stories. Hadn’t heard the one about his brother-in-law winning thirteen million in the NYS lottery. Animated weatherman, Scott Hetsko, was dining with his family at the next table and The Chinchillas drummer was in the house.
Leave a commentPurifying The Culture
By the time my father, brother and I got to the 1964 World’s Fair Governor Rockefeller had already yanked the Warhol contribution to the Philip Johnson designed New York State Pavilion. His mugshots were up for two days before the political censorship. I took the shot (above) at the I. M. Pei designed Johnson Museum on Cornel’s campus in Ithaca. I could not let the fifty year anniversary of this act go by without calling further attention to it. The mugshots Warhol produced for the Pavilion are on display at the Queens Museum now while across town you could be in line for the show of “Degenerate Art: The Attack on Modern Art in Nazi Germany” at the Neue Gallery.
The Crimestopper page in our local newspaper got me thinking.
Leave a commentLevels Of Life
I vaguely remember my camera turning on inside my pocket. I reached in for some reason, maybe out of nervousness, and felt the lens extend into my palm. I didn’t realize I had taken a picture in there until I found this extraordinary shot. Well, that made my day.
I spent the morning out in Webster at my dentist. He had scheduled me for a two hour appointment, just enough time to remove a bridge that had some decay under it, fill the cavities and take a mold of my mouth for the new bridge. My dentist is a real craftsman and I suspect somewhat of a perfectionist, exactly the type of guy you want working on your mouth with power tools. He told me he wasn’t going to pry the old bridge off because he didn’t want to damage what was left of the teeth below. He said he was going to cut it off.
He put some wrap around sun glasses on me to protect my eyes from flying porcelain and went in there with something like a mini grinder. When he was done the assistant showed me a small pile of pieces that she had pulled out of my mouth. I left with a plastic, temporary bridge and I’ll stop back in two weeks to pay the big bucks and get my new bridge cemented in.
The rest of the day was spent prepping my parent’s garage for their garage sale this Saturday. Unfortunately we missed Louise when she stopped by with some important papers and a book by Julian Barnes called “Levels of Life.”
Leave a commentArt Roots
I work best under a deadline, not that this is my best work, just that I did get the job done in very short period of time. Small versions of my crime faces not proven too beneficial for Rochester Contemporary in their annuual 6×6 show. The show is their biggest fund raiser. All the work is donated and all the sales go to RoCo (100% commission) so why not go out of my way to do something commercial.
We were coming from my parent’s new apartment on Portland Avenue, headed downtown last week for some reason, and as we turned left onto Hudson there was UNEEDA Tire. Perfect. Small paintings, ala Wreckless Eric, of iconic Rochester companies. Many of my favorite have slipped away but it was easy to come up with six that fit the bill. I just closed my eyes and pictured myself sitting in the stands at the old Red Wing stadium on Knothole Day marveling at the pop art displays on the home run fence.
2 CommentsRecord Hop
Joe Tunis was holding court at Needle Drop Records when I stopped in on Saturday morning. He had already delivered the goods to our house a day before Record Store Day, the new, one sided Nod lp that we had preordered from Carbon Records. Joe Sorriero’s vocals are front and center and the band is in an acquired taste pop mood. I love it.
We were scheduled to gallery sit at I-Square and when our shift was up we walked over to the House of Guitars to pick up a copy of Armand’s 10 inch, “God Made The Blues To Kill Me.” After a lengthy blues rant things get really interesting with a war monologue over drums, guest Viet Nam flashback from John Bartles and Vietnamese lyrics. Personal Effects/Colorblind James bassist, Bernie Heveron, holds down the groove.
Record Archive was packed and they had more Record Store product than anyone in town. I picked up a rollicking live lp by Jacob Fred Jazz Odyssey, a favorite of ours from the Rochester Jazz Fest. My final stop was the Bop Shop where they were serving beer and Brian Williams was playing with back to back bands. Dan Hanley from Magna Carta gave me a copy of a double disc Terry Bozzio lp, a reissue of a cd that I did the cover for. I put money down for a Sun Ra lp which had nothing to do with Record Store Day, a 1965 recording like the Strange Strings sessions where group members play instruments outside of their comfort zone. Long live Sun Ra!
1 CommentWander The Woods And Wonder
It took me a bit to get over to Elmwood Avenue on Saturday morning. I rounded up my NEC projector, cords, the instructions that Peggi printed out for me and I had a copy of my father’s presentation on my laptop, all this as a backup in case the people at Briarwood on Elmwood Avenue were unable to get my dad’s iPad to come up on their projector.
My mom was in the lobby with a cup of coffee when I arrived. She told me, “Your father is panicking.” The place was packed, maybe fifty people, some sitting in the doorway of the darkened meeting room. It was minutes before the show was to begin and the only thing on the screen was a few little icons that let you choose the input. The presentation was up on the iPad but not getting to the projector. I tried the “Computer 2” input but no luck.
Because the coordinator and my dad were both fumbling with the projector I had wrongly assumed the problem was there. It turned out my dad was in the “editing” section of Keynote (Apple’s Powerpoint program) and not in the “presentation” mode. I pushed the little arrow and my dad’s first slide appeared on the screen. I tried to to demonstrate what the problem had been but when I pushed the arrow again nothing happened. Now, I was panicking.
This time the problem was not in the iPad. A gentleman in the back row had unplugged the extension cord that led to to the projector. My father, a real pro, did not let this affect his performance and the presentation was a smashing success.
As a side note: My father’s painting (above and currently on display in the “3 ‘D’s in Dodd” show) has a red (Sold!) dot next to it at. Many years ago I would have been in church with my dad on Easter Sunday. I think it is safe to say that today we both will feel closer to god in the woods.
1 CommentLa Violencia
I sold my baseball cards way early, before the nostalgia craze, collector frenzy and Ebay. My mom said “take this shoebox or I’ll throw them out.” I sold the whole box to my high school math teacher, Mr. Setek, and he told me the three pristine condition, 1963 Pete Rose cards were going to help put his kids through college. Peggi and i went to Cartagena, Columbia for week’s vacation, at the time the cheapest Caribbean destination. There was some sort of travel advisory in effect and our hotel was patrolled by armed guards and dogs.
“One Hundred Years of Solitude”
Gabriel García Márquez, whose obit was on the front page of Good Friday’s paper, worked as a newspaper journalist in Cartagena in the 50’s during La Violencia. “It was a bohemian life: finish at the paper at 1 in the morning, then write a poem or a short story until about 3, then go out to have a beer,” he said. “When you went home at dawn, ladies who were going to Mass would cross to the other side of the street for fear that you were either drunk or intending to mug or rape them.”
And out of that came the most beautiful book I have ever read, “One Hundred Years of Solitude.” It was on a short list of books I was asked to read for an Empire State class.
“The men on the expedition felt overwhelmed by their most ancient memories in that paradise of dampness and silence, going back to before original sin, as their boots sank into pools of steaming oil and their machetes destroyed bloody lilies and golden salamanders. For a week, almost without speaking, they went ahead like sleepwalkers through a universe of grief, lighted only by the tenuous reflection of luminous insects, and their lungs were overwhelmed by a suffocating smell of blood.”
1 CommentDefine Saint
There was pretty cool picture in the paper this morning of the penitents in the “Procesion del Silencio” in Spain. My brother, who is in town for a few days, converted to Judaism. No mean feat. I reminded him of how we used to try to remain silent between the hours of noon and 3PM on Good Friday (tomorrow), the hours when Jesus hung on the cross. Of course that was impossible but we did manage to give up candy for Lent. This Catholic stuff is hard to shake.
I found this piece of paper (above) in front of our old house in the city. I hung on to it. Since we lived in St. John’s parish, the same parish I grew up in, I assume it came from there and it seems to me that this whole notion of saints is still worthwhile. I have my own definition and it includes some deeply flawed but miraculous individuals. I started a list in the right hand column of this page.
1 CommentI Love Mini City
I was out at my dentist in Webster and the hygienist took X-rays. She spotted a suspicious spot above a crown and said it appeared to have changed since the last X-ray but she wasn’t able to show me the two shots on the same screen. They use Kodak Dental Imaging Software and she said both the dentist and her had tried to figure that out to no avail.
I said, “There must be a way to do that.” She said she “was afraid she would mess things up if she just started clicking around.” This is exactly the wrong attitude to have with software. It has been designed to have you click around until figure out how to do what you want to do. That’s why they call it software.
While I was out there I had to stop in front of Mini City to take a shot. Of course the owner came out and asked if he could help me. This happens to me all the time and I can’t help but wonder if all photographers are plagued with people wanting to help them or if it is just me or maybe the things I like to take photos of. I told him I liked his sign and I just added the shot to my “Funky Signs” site.
Leave a commentBreak Time
We were working on our 6×6 contributions last night while listening to Wednesday’s Margaret Explosion recording. The last song was moody, of course, but it ended like a daydream does. You’re left thinking, “Now, where was I?” I usually jot dow a short description before filing it away and I couldn’t even remember what I heard.
It was the perfect time to take a break so we headed downtown to catch the second set of Watkins and the Rapiers. They were in particularily fine form. Tom sang a rather dark song about the beast inside, Steve led a number that was more musically adventurous than anything I had seen them do before, Marty provided exactly the right propulsion for an NRBQ flavored romp about Kodak.
The Rapiers are full of surprises. I have never associated them with soul music but Scott sang lead on a beautiful version of “Midnight Train to Georgia.” Kerry tailored the lyrics of his “Mingle, Mingle, Mingle” song to Gary Pudup who was seated along the wall and has just announced his candidacy for the 134th Assembly District.
Leave a commentHillbillies and Meth
Steve called me from South Carolina. He was thinking of heading north to check on his trailer in Tennessee but he heard there might be snow there tonight. He told me our temperature is supposed to drop 40 degrees today. His trailer sits on a hilltop in the woods near a giant manmade lake. One of his neighbors up there emailed him a photo of the trailer after someone broke in. The door looked like it had been bashed in by a backhoe. He had a pretty good lock on there because he had already been broken into before.
The neighbor who emailed the photo said that he too was broken into but he knew who it was. It was his ex-wife and she spray painted the the inside of cabin.
Leave a commentJack Lord
It is not like me to plan things out before I do them and I’m pretty sure three of my brothers helped hatch the slim storyline in this Super 8 movie from 1970 or so. They all have starring roles, John on lead guitar, Tim on drums and Fran as the head of an equipment rental crew that confiscates the group’s gear. Fran and his buddies double dip as stuntmen and I’m sure my parents are gonna cringe when they see them jumping off our garage roof. My brothers were great sports and I’d like to thank them.
Some forty years later I have added a soundtrack, a song by Invisible Idiot called “Jack Lord.” There was a period when Peggi and I were stuck on “Hawaii Five O” reruns and I guess Jack’s solo reminded us of Steve McGarrett.
Invisible Idiot is a pseudonym for the late nineties version of Margaret Explosion with Peggi Fournier — soprano sax; Jack Schaefer — guitar; Pete LaBonne — bass and me on djembe for this track. By the time we got around to recording there was already a new line-up of Margaret Explosion so we recorded under this moniker.
Leave a commentMissing Teddy
I met Teddy on the morning of the 5th, one day after he apparently disappeared at Target on East Ridge Road. He was right at my door and would have come in if I had opened it but I was afraid to do so. Our white cat, who had just gently woken me, as is her habit, was right at my feet and there would have been an ugly confrontation.
It was snowing that day and as Teddy ran off I could see tiny snow balls clinging to the poodle hair on her legs like she had been traipsing through the snow all night. Target is not that close to us either so I felt bad when I saw this sign today.
I helped our neighbor Rick bring chairs upstairs for his house concert tonight, My Darling Clementine, an English duo doing George and Tammy style country. When you like something the first time around there is no going back so we might stay home. I’m kinda tired from last night’s art opening. I’m so happy so many people came out to see my father and brother’s stuff. There were no red dots on the wall at the end of the night but there was plenty of good talk.
Leave a commentNorm & Pam’s Wedding
My dad bought this 8mm camera for me from Kodak’s company store. My first movie was of Rich Stim running around on Jones Beach with his dog. The movie was only 3 minutes long with no sound but by the end of it I was out in New Jersey riding around in Steve Emry’s green van. The last shot has Steve dropping me off at Stu Strumph’s parent’s apartment in Queens.
Norm was two years behind me in high school but he lived nearby and we were friends. I was in my freshman year at Indiana when I got a call from Norm’s mom. She told me Norm had run away and he was headed out to stay with me. I don’t remember how long that stay lasted but he did return after he had finished school and I had dropped out. I introduced him to Pamela. Her parents owned the Colonial Hotel in Indianapolis and her father drove a trailer down to Bloomington, parked it on a lot near the Monon railroad and rented it out to a bunch of Pam’s friends for $35. We pooled our money, heated the trailer with the electric stove and ran the electric meter upside down for half the month to keep the bill down.
Norm came back to Rochester to get married in his parents’ house and we all gathered here. Seems like only yesterday but Dave, Chuck and Sherry have all passed away.
3 CommentsPop-Up Installation
Just down the street from 1975 Gallery on Charlotte Street you can view this post industrial art installation through the window of the temporary gallery space in the former Craig Auto-metrics. The show is up far a limited time as the building is being converted into Hartz Market.
Leave a commentMatisse Side Show
I still haven’t gotten over to the Memorial Art Gallery to the new Matisse show, supposedly works he left to his grandkids. As our painting teacher said last night, I haven’t seen a Matisse I didn’t like, or some thing to that effect. But I was there last night in the basement, a place they call the Creative Workshop and there is a really cool show up of painters from Fred Lipp’s day class (Bill Keyser, Rose Mary Hooper, Lana Farhi, Eileen Joy) and the night class (Geri McCormick, a stunning painting of Corn Hill called “Dog Walker” by Leo Dodd and this gem by Peggi Fournier.)
When you get over to the Matisse show stop in the downstairs gallery and check this out.
Leave a commentBlack Snowflake
The once a month gallery night event called First Friday got too big for its britches. There was too much going on in the same time slot to do justice to worthy shows. Of course the opening is not the time to really see a show anyway, that’s what gallery hours are for. RoCo and Warren Philips Gallery and many others have moved their openings to other nights. Theres one coming up this Friday in fact.
All of that is not to say First Friday is over. It is great fun to see so many people out and about looking at art. Heather, shown above, was holding court in the Hungerford Building. That’s one of her big black snowflakes on her white wall. She has a delightful way of upstaging her her own work.
Leave a commentSleepers, Awake!
The small lakes in Durand Eastman Park are still covered by ice. They don’t get as much sun as my neighbor’s pond where the ice cover melted last week. All of his bright orange goldfish are accounted for, in fact they seem to have gotten bigger over the winter. Maybe they are just bloated from inactivity. They are floating near the bottom, motionless, near the center where it is nearly a foot and half deep.
Around the periphery of the pond are at least ten frogs, all in the same position, pointed toward land in about six inches of water. They look like they have moss growing on them but my neighbor thinks it is algae that has gathered around their still bodies. I’m thinking about that Incredible String Band song.
Leave a comment