photo: cecil beaton
(or: the post that just keeps getting
simplified as the day goes on ;)
Knowing that it is a great honor to be among the
Magnificent 7 chosen by Gaye at Little Augury,
and the seven Beautiful Bloggers chosen by
Daniel at Hiberian Homme, I'll be sending out
two sets of awards. Seven Beautiful Bloggers:
it's a lovely day when someone says hello
the way these two have; with grateful
thanks, I accept the privilege of being
honored with delightful awards from
now, I must compile the necessary
ingredients to bake the cakes I'd
like to set before you: luscious bits
that will do the job of thanking
these two (who have been so generous)
and you (for whom the cake must be tasty
enough)...and do justice to those I'd like
to send you off to visit...
About a week ago, I wrote -- offhandedly, actually -- something in response to a question. The question was asked by someone whom I respect, someone with an excellent work ethic and an eye that will take him far.
My response surprised me.
I don't usually admit it to myself anymore.
It was something that, years ago, I was quite certain of. But I lost the gist...somewhere, in the mill that life becomes, I lost the simple meaning of what I wanted. To pursue design as a sort of career (something, for me, that would fit well in the small crevices of personal time that were part of the geography of being a mother of four) seemed a more-than-acceptable substitute.
But a substitute is always that. A substitute.
"What kind of work do you do?"
The answer to his question is the one that I can't get out of my mind.
(P. S. I have loved design, and always will. Like Pippi, I am a thing-finder.)
It was a lovely sunny day in the city.
Fort Mason was beautiful; the colors
of the sky and the water and the bridge
were not to be equaled. It was pretty much
like heaven (in that sweet San Francisco way).
shopping, zoomed over to the SFMOMA &
found the Anniversary Show in full swing
& it's a doozy. You ought to stop by, if
you already haven't. Did you know that
(in days gone by) you could sometimes
arrange to purchase art as it was being
exhibited in museums? The sketches
above are from papers that Calder sent
with an installation of his art...it's magnificent
to see his directions for setting up the work, but
the truly critical bits of information, as I see it,
are the numbers (prices!) scrawled below the
diagrams for each piece.
$300 for a Calder, anyone?
(long ago and far away)
The other correspondence (all snapped with
my trusty old iPhone, which seems to always
be there when I need it, unlike my trusty
camera) is between Peggy Guggenheim
and the founding director of the museum,
Dr. Grace Morley. The pics aren't great,
but you can click on them and sort of
get the gist. What really got me was
Peggy's fabulous business stationery.
And the price of the Pollock.
Art of this Century (and forevermore).