On Editing


What the floor looked like while sorting boxes  of old stuff
This is what editing looked like yesterday. I’ve been in a frenzy of eliminating items from my apartment; going through boxes, drawers, shelves— anything that no longer makes the cut is out. Trash, recycle or donate.

Two of the friends I met up with last night said they’d been doing the same thing this weekend; how refreshing it feels to undergo this process. We referenced:

“Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.”

— William Morris

random stuff from the archives Continue reading

Sketchbook and watercolor : reacquaint


Sketches revisited with watercolor, collage
ome of the sketches from Sunday’s wander day revisited with watercolor and paper collage. More pages after the jump>>

Continue reading

Schiele Portraits and a wander day in the city


Sunday was the first day in the 40s NYC has seen in months, and it was well appreciated. Went to the Neue Galerie with a couple of friends to have a look at the Egon Schiele portraits exhibit, and seeing his work in person is never disappointing. His linework is so sure and fine, and his distortions of limbs, faces —of bodies— so well-informed and limned with such confidence that they are often more convincing than an ‘accurate’ anatomical study.


After the show, we walked south and west through Central Park, then hopped a train to Blue Ribbon Downing Street bar for some food and wine, followed by a meander to Upholstery Wine Bar (same owner as Cafe Sabarsky in the Neue—full circle), and finally headed to Duplex Planet for some piano bar fun.

After the jump, a couple more of my quick sketches from Duplex, plus a small sampling of some of the works featured in the portraits show.

Continue reading

A sun-bright frozen Sunday


Today broke delightfully sunny but heartrendingly windy, and that’s a confounding combination. How I miss civilized weather.

Awoke suddenly this morning to a distinct memory of listening to The Queen is Dead in my room at the farm on the record player my folks gave me when I turned 16. It was an all-in-one type, with dual cassette decks, and followed me to college here in Brooklyn. Was a cohort in the making of many mix tapes, and at least partly responsible for the making of my career, such as it was, in the music biz (by way of design).  How many nights of the Disorder Show did I faithfully spend a blank tape on? Lost and gone forever, all— my cassettes were chucked years ago, naturally, but somewhere I’ve stashed a bunch of j-cards* from mix tapes given me in those days.


Continue reading