Shanghaied in Singapore

The internet has created a small, twisted world...A few years ago, I received an email from Isabelle V. Lim who lives in Hong Kong.  Ms. Lim, a pastelist, had recognized my artwork from an article in International Artist.  She  attached cell phone images of my work which she had seen on the wall of a seafood restaurant in Singapore.  This surprised me as I was pretty sure they were still in my basement.  My compositions had been lifted and mass produced. The designer  hung them upside down and sideways, either not caring or believing this voided the copyright infringement.  I called Singapore.  They were shocked(!!!!) to learn the images had been bootlegged.  The restaurant blamed the designer, who was Australian.  And there the trail ended.  Much to my dismay, no one was publicly caned. 

all my images have disappeared!

Help. Everything is gone!

How the hell did I do that?

The above, Asian Influences, is one of my favorite pieces.  It sold a few years ago, so I can't study it directly. I spent long weeks on this piece and when I thought it done, I showed it to Danni Dawson.  I asked what else I should do to it.  She looked at me as if I had shown her a mud pie.  Her advice, "Refine it," led to more long weeks.  I doubt I could paint it again as well.  Visual memory is tricky, especially when the rest of the memory is a sieve.  I would surely be lost without my little green sketchbooks, eight years of  color combinations, techniques, and advice from teachers, friends, books, videos, workshops and whatever I had discovered on my own.  What if there were a fire?  So, I gathered my eight years of notebooks and copied the highlights on to my computer.  I backed it up on a disk and to an external hard drive. All of which would melt in a fire.  So, I emailed a copy to myself so it would always be available. All hail the ethernet!

which came first?

In my case, Le Poulet, or "Ms Salmonella" as my daughter calls her, was painted first.  I don't know why I have such tender regards for this piece.  The eggs were bought from Kurt Schwarz, an artist who raises chickens.  I suspect he is 'bogarting' the blue eggs for himself.  I can hardly blame him, I'd have hoarded the green ones as well.

Don't tell my husband

I went to a barn sale yesterday and picked up these industrial pieces.  Someday they will figure in a still life composition.  At least that is my intention.  My husband, who is understandably alarmed at the bizarre colony of 'still life' items swelling the seams of our home, has a hard and fast rule:  Nothing else comes into the house unless something else goes out. But really, what doesn't qualify as a potential still life character? I've used wooden block and tackles, railroad oil cans, vintage windup toys, dessicated Japanese umbrellas, and pharmaceutical posters.  This may explain his fondness for my food still lifes.  At least he can eat those.

Having lost sight of our goal, we redoubled our speed...

I am supposed to be weeding out paintings for the April Food, Glorious Food show.  Like so many of my diets, this one has gone in the wrong direction.  I need less paintings, and yet here comes another, "My Darling Clementine".  Someone should lock me in the basement.

Food, Glorious Food

It's official! I'm having a Solo Show at the Art League Gallery in April.  Alas,  it seems I've painted too many pieces to show.  Now, I  have to eliminate some of my favorites.   Sounds suspiciously like dieting to me.