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My studio space.

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My home is tiny and have lived in this 700 sq foot studio apartment for over 25 years with my daughter. It has lots of light, and high ceilings and original 1940 Murphy Kabentte all in one kitchen unit. I love this place! Over the years it has had it over hauls and fantastical redecorating.

Once I covered it with green craft paper and lilly pads ala Monet, and other time I bought 2 large rolls of red velvet embossed paper covering the walls. It has been painted white to shocking ice sherbet yellow.  (now a dingy grey cream color.) This apartment has had share of crisis’s as well when a neighbor flooded my apartment with a busted water pipes when he abandoned the apartment upstairs before winter. The water damaged the ceiling, and loosened the whole sections of plaster spalled later that year.

I made the broken up ceiling an asset, and added some decoupage Haekel illustrations, new paint and trim. This began the studio transformation to its current nautical inspired fantasy.

ceiling

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I am trying to sort out my portfolio, which I have to admit I have been avoiding for some time now. Through Coroflot I feel I can attain some visibility, and yet can flesh out my work into some cohesive order. There is wide variety of portfolios on this site, and a lot from students just out of school. Hopefully it will give me a fresh approach to format my work.

My Coroflot portfolio

I would appreciate comments.

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– William Mc Donough

Make sure you audio is up pretty high on to receive the full effect.

Nor can I point out has any one read – actually read Olaus Magnus either…

A little on ole Olaus

In Magnus first book, ‘History of Northern People’ written in 1555 there is a introduction and criticism of the Vitruvious’s Ten Books of Architecture. I originally ran across Olaus’s woodcuts on the internet while doing research for a theater production I was producing. Then the only translation of his work was at the Public Library at 42nd street and had to experience the process of getting a book from that archive.

First you have fill out the index on a piece of paper, hand it to a librarian and wait for an hour for someone to send up a book from the archive down stairs. When I finally got the set, I had to spend a small fortune in xeroxes frantically before the Library closed. The interiors of the 42nd street library are incredible and still most of the original furniture is still in use.

The language of Olaus’s work is very simiar to how my mom spoke. … If I find my resources I’ll write a small section of it.

Diggin songs of Paolo Conte… sorta Jazzy Bob Dylanish… sorta. Ok it is now getting too folky – the problems of last.fm.

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Need I say more….?

All that goes up river… must come down river eventually.

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vibe

http://www.janmeinema.com/cymatics/video_box_03.html

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My personal financial adviser mentioned that I had I just had to watch this and apply accordingly…..

and make this a mantra…. a way of being for what I have to put up with lately…. Ha ha!!  The last part…. is so damn hilarious I fell literally off my chair.

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The perfection of Samuel Beckett’s work and brilliant reminders of what is. I love this internal dialogue…. reminds me of a conversation I had ….. with myself.

Joe …
[Eyes open, resumption of intentness.]
Joe …
[Full intentness.]
Thought of everything? … Forgotten nothing?… You’re all right now, eh? … No one can see you now …. No one can get at you now …. Why don’t you put out that light? … There might be a louse watching you …. Why don’t you go to bed? … What’s wrong with that bed, Joe? … You changed it, didn’t you? … Made no difference? … Or is the heart already? … Crumbles when you lie down in the dark …. Dry rotten at last …. Eh Joe?

Camera move 1

The best’s to come, you said, that last time …. Hurrying me into my coat …. Last I was favoured with from you …. Say it you now, Joe, no one’ll hear you …. Come on, Joe, no one can say it like you, say it again now and listen to yourself …. The best’s to come …. You were right for once …. In the end.

Camera move 2

You know that penny farthing hell you call your mind …. That’s where you think this is coming from, don’t you? … That’s where you heard your father …. Isn’t that what you told me? … Started in on you one June night and went on for years…. On and off …. Behind the eyes …. That’s how you were able to throttle him in the end …. Mental thuggee you called it … One of your happiest fancies …. Mental thuggee …. Otherwise he’d be plaguing you yet …. Then your mother when her hour came …. ‘Look up, Joe, look up, we’re watching you’ …. Weaker and weaker till you laid her too …. Others …. All the others …. Such love he got …. God knows why …. Pitying love …. None to touch it …. And look at him now …. Throttling the dead in his head.

Camera move 3

Anyone living love you now, Joe? … Anyone living sorry for you now? … That slut that comes on Saturday, you pay her, don’t you? … Penny a hoist tuppence as long as you like … Watch yourself you don’t run short, Joe … Ever think of that? … Eh Joe? … What it’d be if you ran out of us …. Not another soul to still …. Sit there in his stinking old wrapper hearing himself …. That lifelong adorer …. Weaker and weaker till not a gasp left there either …. Is it that you want? … Well preserved for his age and the silence of the grave …. That old paradise you were always harping on …. No Joe …. Not for the likes of us.

Camera move 4

I was strong myself when I started …. In on you …. Wasn’t I, Joe? … Normal strength …. Like those summer evenings in the Green …. In the early days …. Of our idyll …. When we sat watching the ducks …. Holding hands exchanging vows …. How you admired my elocution! … Among other charms …. Voice like flint glass …. To borrow your expression …. Powerful grasp of language you had …. Flint glass …. You could have listened to it for ever …. And now this …. Squeezed down to this …. How much longer would you say? … Till the whisper …. You know …. When you can’t hear the words …. Just the odd one here and there …. That’s the worst …. Isn’t it, Joe? … Isn’t that what you told me …. Before we expire …. The odd word …. Straining to hear …. Why must you do that? … When you’re nearly home …. What matter then …. What we mean …. It should be the best …. Nearly home again …. Another stilled …. And it’s the worst …. Isn’t that what you said? … The whisper …. The odd word …. Straining to hear …. Brain tired squeezing …. It stops in the end …. You stop it in the end …. Imagine if you couldn’t …. Ever think of that? …. If it went on …. The whisper in your head …. Me whispering at you in your head …. Things you can’t catch …. On and off …. Till you join us …. Eh Joe?

Camera move 5

How’s your Lord these days? … Still worth having? … Still lapping it up? … The passion of our Joe …. Wait till He starts talking to you …. When you’re done with yourself …. All your dead dead …. Sitting there in your foul old wrapper …. Very fair health for a man of your years …. Just that lump in your bubo …. Silence of the grave without the maggots …. To crown your labours …. Till one night …. ‘Thou fool thy soul’ …. Put your thugs on that …. Eh Joe? … Ever think of that? … When He starts in on you …. When you’re done with yourself …. If you ever are.

Camera move 6

Yes, great love God knows why …. Even me …. But I found a better …. As I hope you heard …. Preferable in all respects …. Kinder …. Stronger …. More intelligent …. Better looking …. Cleaner …. Truthful …. Faithful …. Sane …. Yes …. I did all right.

Camera move 7

But there was one didn’t …. You know the one I mean, Joe …. The green one …. The narrow one …. Always pale …. The pale eyes …. Spirit made light …. To borrow your expression …. The way they opened after …. Unique …. Are you with me now? … Eh Joe? … There was love for you …. The best’s to come, you said …. Bundling her into her Avoca sack …. Her fingers fumbling with the big horn buttons …. Ticket in your pocket for the first morning flight …. You’ve had her, haven’t you? …. You’ve laid her? … Of course he has …. She went young …. No more old lip from her.

Camera move 8

Ever know what happened? … She didn’t say? … Just the announcement in the Independent …. ‘On Mary’s beads we plead her needs and in the Holy Mass’ …. Will I tell you? … Not interested? … Well I will just the same …. I think you should know …. That’s right, Joe, squeeze away …. Don’t lose heart now …. When you’re nearly home …. I’ll soon be gone …. The last of them …. Unless that poor old slut loves you …. Then yourself …. That old bonfire …. Years of that stink …. Then the silence …. A dollop of that …. To crown all …. Till His Nibs …. One dirty winter night …. ‘Mud thou art.’

Camera move 9

All right …. Warm summer night …. All sleeping …. Sitting on the edge of her bed in her lavender slip …. You know the one …. Ah she knew you, heavenly powers! … Faint lap of sea through open window …. Gets up in the end and slips out as she is …. Moon …. Stock …. Down the garden and under the viaduct …. Sees from the seaweed the tide is flowing …. Goes on down to the edge and lies down with her face in the wash …. Cut a long story short doesn’t work …. Gets up in the end sopping wet and back up to the house …. Gets out the Gillette …. The make you recommended for her body hair …. Back down the garden and under the viaduct …. Takes the blade from the holder and lies down at the edge on her side …. Cut another long story short doesn’t work either … You know how she always dreaded pain …. Tears a strip from the slip and ties it round the scratch …. Gets up in the end and back up to the house …. Slip clinging the way wet silk will …. This all new to you, Joe? … Eh Joe? … Gets the tablets and back down the garden and under the viaduct …. Takes a few on the way …. Unconscionable hour by now …. Moon going off the shore behind the hill …. Stands a bit looking at the beaten silver …. Then starts along the edge to a place further down near the Rock …. Imagine what in her mind to make her do that …. Imagine …. Trailing her feet in the water like a child …. Takes a few more on the way …. Will I go on, Joe? … Eh Joe? … Lies down in the end with her face a few feet from the tide …. Clawing at the shingle now …. Has it all worked out this time …. Finishes the tube …. There’s love for you …. Eh Joe? …. Scoops a little cup for her face in the stones …. The green one …. The narrow one …. Always pale …. The pale eyes …. The look they shed before …. The way they opened after …. Spirit made light …. Wasn’t that your description, Joe? …
[Voice drops to whisper, almost inaudible except words in italics.] All right …. You’ve had the best …. Now imagine …. Before she goes …. Face in the cup …. Lips on a stone …. Taking Joe with her …. Light gone …. ‘Joe Joe’ …. No sound …. To the stones …. Say it you now, no one’ll hear you …. Say ‘Joe’ it parts the lips … Imagine the hands …. The solitaire …. Against a stone …. Imagine the eyes …. Spiritlight …. Month of June …. What year of your Lord? …. Breasts in the stones …. And the hands …. Before they go …. Imagine the hands …. What are they at? … In the stones ….
[Image fades, voice as before.]
What are they fondling? … Till they go …. There’s love for you …. Isn’t it, Joe ? … Wasn’t it, Joe? … Eh Joe? … Wouldn’t you say? … Compared to us … Compared to Him …. Eh Joe?…
[Voice and image out. End.]

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