Fishing in the arid Southwest

Fenton Lake. Some head out for the mystery of the deep water:

Others keep a firm footing. None of these people are real vegetarians. For those thirsting for optical illusions, below contains a little bit of an optical illusion (how did he balance his chair on the tree stump?and where is his shadow? vampires fish?); if you click on the photo...that's cheating, but if you do, note the man's impressive tattoos:

Possible tangled fishing lines in this equal opportunity fishing experiment:

Here's a Native American not teaching his daughter traditional fishing techniques, but allowing her to develop her own:

Survivalists, no doubt. Outfits make them nearly invisible:

New Mexico shards

To make a little digression from this skin-thing...
Large piece of glass installed in NM "soil", with edge first painted white:

then orange:

More, more, more, and perhaps more to come (who knows)...

Hard not to notice, but when I return to making pieces, I start blogging and stop writing. Geezzzzz. I'll never ever get anything completely finished in all my life.
Will I!
Sticky tee-shirt-type transfer print paper stuck to wall enhanced with pins (aids adherence, so we have form humbly deferring to function).
If you click on the first one (below), you will be struck by the breathtaking array of little pins (yes, they are smaller than normal pins). The same event occurs in piece titled sk2.
sk1:

 sk2:

This a much more elaborate production (I gotta get a grip on myself!) Iron-on transfer on fabric miraculously stuck to wall. In all effect a mixed media piece. If you click you will be impressed by how un-vegetarian it all seems. And as for the orifice thing...I don't know what to say.
sk3:

Detail of sk3 (the orifice itself!!!):

In the works

Rough photo of rough (proto) piece.
Just whacked a hole in some foamcore and stuck the image with orifice over orifice. The background (dark red) was just something I had at hand. It needs to lie deeper and be of a differently defined texture.
Orifice 4: 

Well...

...I guess I'll continue with this blogging nonsense.
Trouble is, when I'm writing (longish short stories) I seem not to be able to blog.
The play Moonlight and Magnolias won the state competition and will travel to Texas for the regionals. The set won also: Outstanding Set Design. Got a mouse-pad with that on it. Better than the weird one I had before, but I already spilled soy sauce all over it.

Up North

Took a trip up North. First light back at home:

The Rio Grande from White Rock. Never saw that stunning site before. Bit of vertigo near the edge:

Later in the day said good-bye to the set:

Marat Sade

Here's a quickie this morning for possibly upcoming production of Marat Sade at the "Little Theatre", for Dave to take to the theatre board. Crude, but explicit -- with deep apologies to ol' Delacroyks. Looks just a tiny bit better when clicked on.

Road and beyond

On the road to Los Alamos, just above La Cueva. This time of the year we begin to enjoy light as we travel -- early dawn. Some slush, black ice, but, as you see, not much snow:

Zooming!

Fire? FIRE!
 Don't panic. Controlled burn, they claim. If you click, don't inhale.

Descending to the Valle Caldera:

The Valle. Believe me, it is teeming with elk down there; my puny camera lens will not reach that far. Last year that fence was just about covered with snow. This year you can see yellowing patches of vegetation poking through -- nice for the elk in the short term, not a nice prospect for spring if more wet stuff doesn't come down.

More zooming!

Wham! It's the set in post rehearsal disarray form. I have to move all that junk away from the wall and continue to obsessively apply more and more and more wood texture.

Don't want to mess with this photo any more, but the wood texture is quite visible really. Most of it is already done. Need to finish bits, fix furniture -- stuff like that.

Some detail; each panel became a crazy little painting strangely amounting to a wood paneling effect. Click:

At lunchtime (I overlooked bringing lunch with me) went to the local sub-shop when this little DOE squad marched in. Shouldn't they be chowing down in a barrack or tent somewhere? Poor customer looks deeply alarmed, as his hand slowly reaches for something that was not ever there, ready to run out into the street screaming if they as much as glance at him. I'll join him, but I have my veggie sub and Sierra Mist firmly grasped in my hands.

Walskin

Meant to spend all day at the theatre, but Lizzie got sick, fever etc, so I stayed home with her. Second day she's at it -- should be OK for tomorrow -- better be.
Meanwhile a winter storm is gathering. Hope tomorrow doesn't turn out to be a snow-day.
So I get to have a break from applying wood-textures to all that lies before me. A skin day instead. Actually, these are pieces that have been embedded in the sheetrock in the studio for the last few days.

Set beside

Here we are working away like crazy...

 ...while people who had been lingering down in the audience area below, suddenly started behaving strangely:

We continue undeterred. Short-ish deadline this, and a lot remains not even yet begun. Might have to replace video of flames projected behind window with mechanical, generic flame-like flickering effect, and might not have time to paint vista of building seen through same window on good transportable surface, but merely slap it on some available flats for use in LA only.

The folks down below go nuts:

Thin Air

Bitterly cold these days. Yesterday, arrived in Los Alamos earlier than normal, took shelter in Starbucks: short bold and a blueberry scone. Same old faces, sipping, mumbling, gazing at their laptops, waiting for their appointed hour.
The windows are steamed up like in an olde English Cayff (café?Olé!). Missing: grease, in its gaseous form, hanging thickly in the air. Thick chipped and stained china. Mixed Grill with the bubbly bacon still squirming from brutal treatment on the frying pan, pork and lamb chops glistening, livers and kidneys lurking deeply within beds of dark brown onions, very deeply baked beans slowly subsiding over what was once crisp, black toast. 
To be fair, the air was not thick with just grease; there was, in the good old days, smoke from cigarettes, distant wafts of marmite being smeared, steam rising from life-restoring PG tips and billowing from the yawning gizzards of the clientele.
You see, here below: the "steam" is not running down the glass, its not even steam, it is delicate high altitude frosting, the air is thin, the gentlemen at the tables are not stevedores or dustbin-men but refined types from the atom bomb factory, no doubt.    

Wood itself

Does this look like early 20th century wood to you?

Works from audience-distance:

Back in the theatre

"Moonlight and Magnolias" first steps. Simple set, represents the office of Selznick during the making of "Gone with the Wind". Not a bad little play, will take its turn February and early March, the one act (2nd) will travel to Artesia NM for the state theatrical competition (whatever that's called), and if it does well, then regional (in TX), then National, then ...
Part of the set will travel also, so everything needs to be transportable, easily manageable, and fast to install and strike, with the next people tensely waiting in the wings for their turn.
Larry framing around plastic doors which I will then turn into expensive wooden doors:

This might keep my mind of Skin for a bit. Slightly. Maybe.

Just...

...to remind myself that I am still blogging.
This last series of pieces is being a traumatic affair. I'm used to the ceremonious, ritualized process of painting, painting with oil on canvas. I might be tempted to smear the whole canvas with one single color, but it still remains the process of painting.
This business that I am engaged in here and now is alien, damaging, dust in the wind...
I compose things in the computer. I have now gathered a substantial portfolio of pieces in digital form. I have a new HD. They all nestle there, new things, blinking in in the fresh dawn of their, perhaps, forgettable little existence. Sometimes I look at them, sometimes I add to them, sometimes I print from them. When I print they first hover as being either bland items on regular printing paper, or fancy objects on photo or acid free surfaces. They easily mutate into 3D objects, lavished upon with lashings of art material-like substances. They bend and roll, crinkle and sick to things. Why? Why the fuck do they need to go through all this. What force is responsible for this happening? When will I stop being its agent? Now the stupid things have developed a need to become embedded in the sheet-rock walls of my home, thus lowering the resale value of this real estate.
Paper sticking out of walls. Whoever heard of such a thing... 

Po dłuższej przerwie...

nareszcie coś gra.

Skin 6

Same piece as shown in earlier state on Next Blog, developed further and poked around a bit (BG, hue, contrast) in photoshop. More versions of same piece still being worked on -- 'till I get it "right" :)


Print and clear latex on canvas, stretched corners held on black foamcore with pins: