Saturday, February 16, 2013

Boring Redux



Drinking hot coffee with a mouth scalded the night before by just out of the oven pizza, little tags of skin hanging from the roof of my mouth.  Not as much fun as it should be.

I was tired after work yesterday, and all I could dream about was getting home and on my couch.  I would be in bed by nine, I thought.  Friday night.  Party.  I wanted to rent a movie and just veg.

I called my mother on the way home as is my wont just to see what was going on.  I forgot that my mother's niece was coming over for the weekend and bringing her son's girlfriend's daughter.

"Where are you now?"

"I'm driving."

"Are you coming over?"

Shit shit shit.

"Sure."

I had drunk a strong cup of coffee before I left work to keep me awake.  I had not really eaten, so what it did was make me shaky and nervous.  My stomach was hollow.  I went home.  I don't keep much food in the house, but I needed something badly.  In the freezer were some Amy's Organic Poppers or something of the sort, little cheese and tomato spice things wrapped in dough.  You know, the sort of food that vegetarians think makes them healthier than other people if not ideologically better.  I through them in the microwave and poured some wine.  My body was vibrating.

When those were finished (it didn't take long), I opened a bag of organic edamame and threw that in the microwave, too.  That's what it says on the bag, not soy beans.  But I did feel like a good citizen this time helping to support the farmers who still fight on against Monsanto.  I felt that way with another glass of wine.

The phone rang.

"Are you coming?"

"Yes.  I'm on my way."

The little girl remembered that I had taken her picture before.

"Are you a. . . ."  She was struggling with the word.  ". . . a proc. . . porn. . . ."

"Photographer.  The word is photographer," my mother's niece offered.

"Do you have your camera?"

"Yes."

"Where is it?"

"In the car."

"Let's get it."

A new model.  Yay!  You'll see.  It is what I have.  You will see it a lot, I'm sure.  I hope you like kiddie pics.  And maybe some flowers, too.

I declined going to dinner with the tribe saying I was just simply too tired.  I wanted to go home.  I wasn't sure how hungry I was now that I'd snacked, but I knew I wasn't going to cook.  But nothing looked good as I walked around Whole Foods looking for something to eat.  Amy's pizza.  Ben and Jerry's Phish Food.  I was set.

It's like that sometimes.  Life just isn't that exciting.  I look forward to tonight's reprise.

2 comments:

  1. i remember her ... she's got great freckles right? did you take a photo of her holding a rifle or something?

    Well. I like the photo of course. I'm a sucker for the danger of a kid. And they are dangerous for sure.

    I spent the day in Provincetown yesterday visiting my friend/client who has a Warhol hanging in his bathroom because he couldn't fit it on the wall anywhere else in his house.

    We walked around (it was actually warm and beautiful up there -- I actually saw daffodils starting to poke up through the snow). "Rothko summered here... Hoffman's house is there..."

    Anyway I picked up two boxes of studies and finished work and a large portfolio of loose canvas paintings by a woman who died in 1917 and studied in Paris and London mostly but spent one summer (1915) painting in Provincetown with Charles Hawthorne. Her work really hasn't been anywhere yet so it should be fun.

    And another box by another local painter whose work is just starting to rise. Odd stuff but I have always liked it. I sold him two paintings so I will get to keep one of each from the new collection. yay me.

    Anyway, hopefully I can sell the stuff for him next weekend at our winter consignor sale. You know -- I also am showing /selling I hope -- 10 pieces by a still working contemporary artist -- You should think about sending me a few pieces for the summer consignment sale... my commission fee is very low.... I'm serious. Think about it.

    We talked of many things but my favorite stories are those of the art world. while at lunch on the water at Fanizzi's on the water here http://www.fanizzisrestaurant.com/index.html

    he told me the older woman he had stopped to greet on the way in father was Marsdon Hartley's agent/broke. He didn't trust his three daughters with his collection after he died and chose to leave them each just one -- "that one owns the blah blah gallery in town she ruins everyone's career and her father was right -- she sold what her father left her for 1 million almost right away but one of sisters, the more down to earth non assuming one was smart and still has it and has been offered 10 million for hers." "The woman she is eating with is "the painters" wife..." and it went on like that.

    We toured his new installation/gallery and talked of his upcoming spring show which will feature 60 pieces he owns that best represent his collection.

    Anyway -- I'm going on and on. Yes. Think about sending me 5 finished pieces and even perhaps some studies ... stuff that isn't fully baked.

    "You know, the sort of food that vegetarians think makes them healthier than other people if not ideologically better." --- my son says half of his boston neighborhood is made up of people like that.

    Watch House of Cards. Let me know if I was just snowbound or it was really as much fun as I thought it was...

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  2. Yes, you remember correctly.

    Hmm. . . you get me thinking about sending some prints your way. I'll write to you later about that.

    I wish I had a painting in my bathroom.

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