Archives for posts with tag: Collage Artist

Day Forty-Three/Image Forty-Three

“Afloat” Image. Ceres Gallery. New York. Solo Show.

Wild Horses. I read somewhere a long time ago that the Rolling Stones’ song was written about one of the band members having his first child and refusing to play at one of their concerts.

It is a romantic thought. How true it is, I don’t know, but when I hear the song rarely, like in a Walmart or Target, I do think wistfully that there is something nice going on. That beneath all the scruff and electric guitar, a new life came first.

Day Forty-Two/Image Forty-Two

“Afloat” Image. Ceres Gallery. New York. Solo Show.

Ah, black slips! My grandmother liked to get dressed up, make-up, hair (naturally dark, down to her waist, up in a bun.) Earrings. She was considered bohemian because she was a concert organist and pianist. And she loved hanging out in her black slip.

She played for silent movies when she was twelve. And later in her life, she played piano in the saloons of her native Montana. She played for drinks, which she hid at her feet. (She brought lidded jelly glasses from home and she would pour the drinks into them after “last call.”)

My grandmother would come to visit us when we lived in Pennsylvania and Connecticut, staying a month at a time. She’s sit around all dressed up, makeup and hair in place, jewelry too and would remain in her black slip all day. Playing cards and greeting our neighbors.

When she went back home to Montana, I heard she even mowed her lawn in her black slip.

Day Forty-One/ Image Forty-One

“Afloat” Image. Ceres Gallery. New York. Solo Show.

Day Forty/Image Forty

“Afloat” Image. Ceres Gallery. New York. Solo Show.

Day Thirty-Nine/Image Thirty-Nine

“Afloat” Image. Ceres Gallery. New York. Solo Show.

Day Thirty-Eight/Image Thirty-Eight

“Afloat” Image. Ceres Gallery. New York. Solo Show.

Day Thirty-Seven/Image Thirty-Seven

“Afloat” Image. Ceres Gallery. New York. Solo Show.

Another ballet collage. My daughter is in preprofessional ballet; I don’t think my awareness would have included this imagery if that were not so. Some of my favorite ballet pieces are these “partnering” dances (the French expression, I do not know how to spell) and the melodies are often plaintive and so beautiful, that they have moved me to tears.

Day Thirty-Five/ Image Thirty-Five

“Afloat” Image. Ceres Gallery. New York. Solo Show.

Day Thirty-One/Image Thirty-One

“Afloat” Image. Ceres Gallery. New York. Solo Show.