Suburban sublime...

This was the last drawing in the series ~ most of them consisted of low angle views of suburban shrubbery ( privet, juniper, etc.) with lots of sky. This was the view from what was then my studio. One can tell from the view of rooftops that it was in the attic. (The studio has since been sacrificed to central air-conditioning ductwork. It was worth it.)

Untitled, 1989. Graphite on paper

Aquatic Parabolic...

This is one of a series of ten drawings done in 1989 to discover if I was still capable of solid, old-school, realistic draftsmanship. I hadn't done anything this representational since... Well, frankly, I'd never done anything like this before ~ not even in art school. To be honest, I didn't have the control back then for this sort of realism. This was an interesting experiment & it never hurts to push the limits of one's skills. If I had continued there was no doubt in my mind that my technical skills would have continued to improve, but after finishing the tenth drawing it was also obvious this approach just wasn't giving me the same sort of intellectual stimulation I derived from abstraction. (Just for the record, this is an actual place. It's the fountain in the Italianate stone-mosaic pool at Dumbarton Oaks in Washington DC. If you've never been there, consider going. It is a little gem of a garden hidden away in Georgetown.)

Update: Here's another very good reason to make a trip to Dumbarton Oaks.

(Not that the gardens aren't more than enough reason!)

Water Arc, 1989. Graphite on paper

Happy Easter...

The Holy Monkey Trinity. Did all three hatch from that one egg? Which one is the Father, Son or Holy Ghost? You decide; I'll never tell... Besides, it simply wouldn't be bona-fide religion without a bit of mystery, would it. In the world of the flesh (as opposed to the spirit) there are actually ten different monkeys & for a quarter a pop, you can collect all of them from the equivalent of an old-fashioned gum-ball machine at the exit of my local supermarket. There they sit, patiently waiting inside their individual, translucent, Jetson-like plastic bubbles. I have eight of the ten... plus an appalling, appalling quantity of duplicates.

If I ever go to a casino, something tells me I should probably avoid the slot-machines.

A culinary interlude...

I am not a hard-core food person. In all honesty, if anyone back in July had asked if I'd be posting recipes here, I would have been rolling on the floor in hysterical laughter. Not that I don't cook, in fact I cook a lot & while I'm not about to audition for Top Chef anytime soon, I am probably a slightly better than average cook. I say this not out of hubris, because I know some extraordinarily fine cooks & I'm quite aware of my culinary boundaries. (Simple, well prepared meals are my niche. I don't have a particularly refined palate & it would be nice [like this guy] to be a bit more ethnically diverse, a bit less finicky & a bit more courageous.) No, I say this because if necessary I: 1. can produce a tasty meal out of whatever happens to be around the kitchen, 2. have a good working knowledge of the technical aspects of cooking, 3. don't need a recipe & lastly, 4. feel quite comfortable improvising. (I use fennel instead of celery in tuna salad.) Actually, I like the act of food preparation as much, if not more, than eating. (See, I'm process oriented in everything I do.) There is one other thing. I love to read about food: cookbooks, culinary history, technical manuals, even literature. (If you've never read M.F.K. Fisher, you should start with her anthology The Art of Eating, although in reality, it's more about appetite than food. For a walk on the gastronomical dark side, I would highly recommend The Devil's Larder by Jim Crace.) It goes without saying one inevitably picks things up without really trying.

So, what is the point here... Well these days I am cooking primarily for my Mother, who is 80 & seems to be mostly interested in the foods that evoke her childhood ~ uncomplicated foods like bread pudding. This custard-heavy British cousin of French toast has turned out to be a great way to add protein to her diet. The original had three eggs; I added the two extra yokes. Your house will also smell amazing while it's baking. There, that is the point... I made bread pudding this afternoon. The house smelled fantastic. Here's my recipe.

3 to 4 cups of good bread, torn into 2" pieces. Stale is best.
1/2 ~ 2/3 cup raisins
sherry
3 eggs, plus 2 yokes
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
2 teaspoons vanilla
4 cups milk
1/2 cup sugar
3 tablespoons butter
7 ~ 10 grates of nutmeg

Put raisins in a small bowl & add sherry to cover. Microwave for 1 minute, let sit for at least 30 minutes. Place bread in oven-proof dish. Combine eggs, salt, cinnamon, vanilla & any sherry not absorbed by the raisins. Whisk slightly. Scatter inebriated raisins over the bread.
Put milk, sugar, butter & nutmeg in a sauce pan & heat over medium high flame, stirring constantly until milk just begins to steam. Do not boil. (For you culinary neophytes, this is what it means to scald the milk.) Add the hot milk to eggs in small amounts, whisking constantly. (This is how one tempers the eggs so the hot milk doesn't scramble them.) Pour custard over bread & let sit for at least 20 minutes. You want to be sure the bread has absorbed all the custard possible. Dust the top with a little nutmeg & cinnamon. Place in another baking pan. Fill this pan with an inch or so of boiling water. (This is called a bain-marie ~ named after it's inventor, Marie [Miriam] the Jewess, a third century female alchemist. She's credited with the invention of a three spouted copper still as well.) Place in a 350 degree oven & bake for 40 minutes or until a knife inserted about an inch from the edge comes out clean.

The amount of bread is sort of an estimate on my part as I do this visually. Some people like more custard; some more bread, adjust to your own tastes. Do not use commercial bread for this ~ it will dissolve into a gummy mess. I get terrific bread from a local Portuguese bakery, sometimes trimming the crust off, as the bottom can be a bit too thick & tough. It has a sturdy rustic texture that doesn't disintegrate in the liquid. As for the sherry ~ I don't use good stuff. (Does anyone actually drink good sherry anymore?) There is a $4.99 cream sherry that I get at a local liquor store that works just fine. Keep in mind that this is essentially a way of using stale, leftover bread. If you are concerned about your weight (or cholesterol levels) this is still good made with 2% milk, less butter & Splenda instead of sugar.

Personally, I'd rather just eat a smaller portion.

Old friends...

Talk about steadfast & dependable. I planted these ivory-colored crocuses (or croci, both are correct but neither spelling ever looks right) over twenty five years ago & they continue to be the first blooms of spring. They opened this morning. I love the tenacity of these little buggers. Nine years ago I removed the bed where they were planted, turning it back into lawn but these little guys (all eleven of them) eluded the spade & still pop up every year: an oddly shaped miniature constellation in the southeastern corner of my back yard firmament. If I remember correctly, they are an heirloom variety which means they are tiny (flowers about the size of my thumb) but their charm more than compensates for their diminutive stature. Think of Dürer's little chunk of turf or the finely-detailed foreground vegetation in a painting by one of the Flemish Primitives ~ maybe Campin or van der Weyden.

The small surprises (for indeed, they always manage to catch me off guard) are always the best.

Of interest...

This is my current favorite art blog. She does all the work so I don't have to. (I'm such a lazy bastard.) Great source material, great sense of humor & (though I still can't figure out why) she put me on her blog roll.

(She's the one in the sombrero.)

The light...

I want to try to get up to Cape Cod this Summer. I love the light & the lay of the land there. It's been years. Eight, or maybe even nine. I could care less about Provincetown ~ the town itself never held my interest for more than two days. (I felt the same way about The Pines on Fire Island although there it's not the town so much as the pretentious attitude.) There's just too much going on: too much shopping, too much social life, too much drinking, too much of the holiday atmosphere. Some people go on holiday to do things & get out of themselves; others go off to do very little & get inside themselves. It's a matter of preference & nature. I'm not a very good party boy so I tend to gravitate towards the introvert's vacation. If you crave excitement, I'm not the best vacation partner. Nope, for me it's all about the light. It's really true that geographic locations surrounded by expanses of water have this amazing hyper-luminous quality to the light.
I just want to sit & watch the light on the sea & cook a few really good meals.

Including dessert.

Landscape Study (Race Point), 1996

A serious case...

Yes indeed, I have a serious case of Spring Fever. I drove around this afternoon with all the car windows down (it wasn't quite warm enough yet but I just zipped the coat up & made the music louder ~ didn't need a hat) then proceeded to linger far too long in the floral section of the Stop & Shop just to smell the dozens of blooming pink & lavender hyacinths that were for sale. There were pristine white Easter lilies, like origami or perfectly folded linen napkins & yellow narcissus as well ~ the fragrance was pretty heady. Ah, engineered greenhouse nature: when push comes to shove, I'll take it. Naturally, none of this hot house, floral aromatherapy was enough to shake off more than the smallest bits of the non-specific, crappy mood I've been in for the past few months. It's mildly pathetic but a start, right? 

Then this guy reminded me about the exquisite, pale chartreuse beauty of Luna moths (once seen: never forgotten) which, in turn, reminded me of this painting. I've always thought of it as being a bit spring-like.

Then of course, there's also that green...

Nature Study: Amphibian, 1996

Just around the corner...

Spring is almost here ~ at least the sunny weather after this weekend's seemingly endless deluge & fierce winds makes it feel that way. Daylight Savings Time is here as well. Maybe it's just the advent of longer days & the first signs of swelling buds on the trees... 

This Winter has, in spite of the lack of snow & mild temperatures, been a difficult one for me on the personal front so I'm anxiously awaiting this year's Vernal Equinox.

Untitled watercolor, 2003

Minerals & birds...

Stephen Shingler ~ Black Mineral Series, watercolor, 2007

One of my very talented co-workers, Stephen Shingler, is having a show along with his brother David at Red Saw Gallery, 585 Broad Street, in Newark, NJ. The opening is from 6 till 9PM on Friday, March 7. You should attend.
New Yorkers, get over the Newark thing. It's as easy as going to Brooklyn & not as scary as you think it's going to be.

Please note: the after-parties at 27 Mix are legendary, so you might consider hanging out afterwards.

Update: Due to a conflict I could not make it to Stephen & David Shingler's opening. I am, however, pleased to report that in spite of the torrential downpour there was still a good turnout. I wasn't familiar with David's work but Steven's lovely wife Sarah took photos & has kindly allowed me to post one here. David makes these remarkable drawing machines. This one is controlled by the sound & the motion of the two live finches in the central cage. I thought the piece was quite wonderful so here it is.


David Shingler ~ Bird Drawing Machine, 2008