The Woven Pixel Goes to Handweaving.net

Front Cover of The Woven Pixel

The Woven Pixel: Designing for Jacquard and Dobby Looms Using Photoshop®, Alice Schlein and Bhakti Ziek, was first published in 2006 in physical form. It was a 362-page black & white book with accompanying compact disk; the CD included all of the major illustrations in color, and all of the more than 1400 weaves described in the book immediately loadable as Photoshop Pattern Presets. The book went through two print editions.

After all the physical copies were sold in 2010, the authors offered the book and CD contents as a digital download, at a reduced price. Sales of the digital download continued until the present time (2012).

In the original TWP, the authors were working with Photoshop CS2 and Elements 4. The Adobe software has gone through many versions since then, and as I write this, Photoshop CS6 and Elements 10 are being sold. The techniques described in the book remain mostly valid for these later versions, although the user may have to look for  different paths to achieve the same ends.

The original TWP contains lists of resources, some of which are sadly out of date.

The vast majority of the book, however, remains as valuable today as it was in 2006: chapters on jacquard history, jacquard design, weave structures used by jacquard and dobby weavers, and an extensive bibliography are among the many gems to be found here.

The authors are not inclined to undertake a major revision of TWP, but want to ensure that this important text remains available to the weaving community. Toward that end, we have made an arrangement with Kris Bruland at www.handweaving.net to offer the digital version of the book, minus the CD, as a free download. We are grateful to our many supporters who have invested in the print and digital versions of the book and CD; without them we couldn't have committed two years of our lives to the work. The original CD will not be included in the free version of the book, but will be available as a digital download at a cost of $100. Contact Bhakti Ziek (ziekgoodwin[at]gmail[dot]com) or Alice Schlein (aschlein[at]att[dot]net) for more information.

We hope you will agree that TWP was an important contribuion to the world of jacquard design and that  it will continue to inspire weavers and add to the spirit of sharing which  is a hallmark of the present-day weaving community.

Back cover of The Woven Pixel

Repetitive Motions

This has been the summer of repetitive motions. You might leap to the conclusion that I am talking about weaving--the rhythmic throwing of the shuttle from one selvedge to the other, feet alternately depressing pedals--but I am talking about scraping paint off the house, painting on primer, painting the first coat of color, then painting the second coat. Of action that seems like it is going nowhere but suddenly a new view pops into focus. The last week or so it seems the house really is looking different.

Summer house work in Vermont

That's Mark's woodpile at the bottom, referencing the Green Mountains of Vermont. Stacking the wood started the summer work. After some attempts to avoid the house painting (successfully ignored for several years) we just bit the bullet and started scraping. What you can't see are all the clapboards Mark had to replace, or the rotting window frames he fixed, or that the steps are new and include a poured cement step. In other words, what he has done looks so good that you don't notice how much he has done. It's like that with art too.

Garlic from Tunbridge Hill Farm, Tunbridge, VT

It's like that with the garlic we have been peeling for the last month and will continue through October. I never realized that the bulbs I have purchased in the past, white and clean, had to be carefully peeled to remove the dirt in which they grew and the outer stained layers so that the customer could purchase the illusion of pristine bulbs. So, in exchange for our CSA share, we have put peeling garlic into our summer routine. Scrape, scrape, peel, peel. Read.

I am reading Simon Schama's Landscape and Memory. Recommended by a friend, it made my eyes sparkle from the very first sentence. I am trying to understand the myth of place, and this author, who addresses it, along with fascinating, meandering discussions that others might ignore but that he, happily, feels it necessary to explore in order to complete the idea he is addressing. Big old Victorian houses that need painting every year and garlic bulbs and local food are part of the landscape of Vermont. What parts of the illusion do I cherish and want to keep in my life? What parts seem like the DisneyWorld Pastoral Ride to me? It seems many of the places I have lived have strong identities ("Santa Fe" evokes a rich tapestry of images that are quite distinct from the equally rich tapestry of images evoked by the word "Vermont"). When I look at a map of the USA I realize that ideas of place keep me from considering many states as home. In fact, right now, I think the lack of a myth about another place is keeping us stationary.

Elin Noble and friends at her exhibition at Colo Colo

Stationary, not immobile. Just had a wonderful day with a friend driving down and back to New Bedford to see Elin Noble's inspiring exhibition at Colo Colo Gallery. These small marbled pictures are worlds within worlds, swirling energies of macro and microcosm, everything contained in nuances of black and white.

Garden Spirits by Lasse Antonsen at Slocum's River Reserve

We also got to visit the Slocum's River Reserve to see Lasse Antonsen's installation of Garden Spirits. Eeire forms, part tree, part insect, part alien figure, the installation is a wonderful start of a career change where Lasse has exchanged his curator's hat for that of an artist's. I am sure this multi-faceted creator is actually going to be many-headed continuing as writer, teacher, artist, explorer.

Amaral's in New Bedford, MA

What we didn't get to do was shop at Amaral's or walk the beach at Horseneck Beach--both priorities on the trip but proof that things are not in our control. However, I was able to get some Portuguese food items at Marketbasket--needed because the current Dowdy Corners Cookbook Club selection is David Leite's The New Portuguese Table. I made his green soup last night and it was delicious--perfect for these early fall days that seem colder than they are because they are in such close proximity to the glorious warmth of summer. You know I am not a cold weather aficianado, but I admit that I am ready to put away the scraper and pick up a shuttle, exchanging one repetitive motion for another.

Look Again

Dowdy Corners Cookbook Club

I joined the Dowdy Corners Cookbook Club! This might not seem newsworthy to you but it shows a shift in terrain for me. Holly Jennings (third from left in the photo above) is the founder of the club--amazingly patient cook (read her past posts), photographer, and alumni of same graduate school as me. That's how we met--introduced via email by a mutual friend from school. I couldn't quite believe that someone else from Cranbrook had moved to this small town, but she had. When we first met, and she told me about the cookbook club, I was definitely interested in joining; but that was a period when I was pulling back from everything. I remember telling her that I had a tendency to join and then quit, so I would save us both the trouble and just not join. That was several years ago, and though I didn't join, I did read her blog and even bought one of the books and cooked from it.

Holly and Wendy (second from left in photo above) stopped by our porch during the town's July 4th parade and Wendy was very enthusiastic about the cookbook club and encouraged me and Marianne (left in photo above) to join. Suddenly it made sense to me. I love cooking (sometimes). It is one of the few things that really gets my attention these days, and I want to learn more about it, I want to get better. I even want to go back and get a degree in baking, though I doubt I will do that. So I said yes. And then I did it. I actually signed up on line and bought the current selection, Ripe by Nigel Slater. In fact, I actually bought a different Ripe first--amazed that it was so much less expensive at Jessica's Biscuits than on Amazon--not noticing that it was a different price because it had a different author. Both books are pictured above.

I think of Slater's book as a non-recipe book. It is a beautiful book--inspiring pictures, luscious words, and simple instructions. Sort of, wash a peach and eat it. But I used it (and Cheryl Sternman Rule's book) for many dishes (his blueberry pancakes made with ricotta cheese are excellent, and once I made them with glutton-free flour and they might have been even better than the first round which were also delicious) and felt that both books had something to offer. But when I went to the pot luck last week I was amazed at how wonderful the meal was--how every dish enhanced the other. Nothing was too sweet. Everything tasted fresh and satisfying. I think the other people (Melanie is 2nd from right, and Tamara is on the right) all felt the same. Maybe this book (Slater's) has more to it than I gave him credit for. I can't wait to read Holly's evaluation on the blog. By the way, she encourages people from other areas to join, and to start their own group for potlucks. I love the idea of communities of cooks gathering together all over the country comparing dishes they made from the same book.

I often don't spend money on anything except the monthly bills (boring and annoyingly regular) but I do spend money on food shopping and books. For awhile now I have managed not to buy books--and the Kimball Library here in Randolph is fantastic about getting books that are requested (and the staff are super excellent)--but I admit that a perk of joining the club is that I now can legitimately buy cookbooks. I have to--library loan just won't do for something like this (so I say). You should see my wish lists on various sites (but I think I made them private).

Beyond Craft: The Art Fabric by Mildred Constantine and Jack Lenor Larsen
(Top Right: detail of Space Hanging by Lyn Alexander; Middle Left: detail of Orange Weaving by Olga de Amaral; Middle Right: detail of HUM by Susan Weitzman; Bottom Left: detail of La Visite Di Aldebaran by Jindrich Vohanka, Bottom Right: detail of Raumelement, Yellow by Moik Schiele)

I had a visitor the other day who had some questions about fiber processes and during the discussion I pulled out my copy of Beyond Craft: The Art Fabric by Mildred Constantine and Jack Lenor Larsen. Most of you know this was the first definitive book on fiber art. I have looked at this book hundreds of times. Some works, like Susan Weitzman's HUM, have always left me breathless. She is one of those mysterious artists who made such an impact on people but who removed herself from the spotlight, something else drew her attention. But what she contributed has withstood the decades of change since she made that work. It still pulls me in and holds my attention. Other works are just invisible to my eyes and sensibilities, though I recognize their ambition and creativity.

But I must say, this is a time to pull that book off your shelves again and look through it. It is full of the most amazing work, by artists who truly were pioneers, working with materials in ways no one had thought of before and in a scale that is, even now, mind-boggling. I have just put a few details of works above, pieces that have great subtlety, simplicity, imagination, and skill. None of them tell stories per se. They are not the works that would have attracted me (except Weitzman's) when I first saw the book. But WOW--they sure look interesting to me today. And of course, the great tragedy, in this current time of anything goes--where fiber seems to be the material of choice for many young artists--the works in this book are not known. So pull that book off your shelves and start showing it to everyone you know who says they are interested in art. It really is a book that has retained its relevancy.

Nomad (Panels 1, 2 and 3) by Bhakti Ziek, 2010

Just a final note to say that I have completed re-finishing my six panels of Nomad. I don't have a wall large enough to photograph the six panels together so I had to do it three by three. No lights either, but....The Fuller Craft Museum has posted the exhibition information: Grand Tales of the Loom: Four Master Weavers. The exhibition will run from September 22, 2012 through January 20, 2013. There will be an artists' reception on Sunday, September 30th from 2-5 pm and all of us (myself, Cyndy Barbone, Deborah Carlson, and Fuyuko Matsubara) will be there. The four of us "came of age" as artists in the 1980s, a generation after the artists in Beyond Craft. We stayed with the loom, really mastering its possibilities, rather than working away from it, as did most of the artists in that book. We had our own "time" and as artists and teachers, we influenced others. I do hope this show will again prove that working at the loom in a careful, thoughtful way is still relevant.

Nomad (Panels 4, 5 and 6) by Bhakti Ziek, 2010

Okay, one comment more about Joan Didion's book, Blue Nights. I read the book straight through yesterday. At the back of the book, a library book, was a page where readers could leave comments. The first commenter felt she had never encountered a more self-centered woman, and added, "get a life." The second comment noted how sad the book was. I wasn't going to add anything but just couldn't help coming to Didion's defense, so I added something to the effect that she talks about truths that others want to ignore, deny, or hide from. The loss of her husband and daughter within 20 months of each other is almost too sad to bear. The way she keeps repeating certain phrases over and over reminds me of the way our minds gloam onto something and get stuck, the way records used to do. A life full of memories but always the same few come back to haunt us. And her writing about aging, so stark and honest, is almost terrifying. I note in my own life how 66 is nothing like I imagined it. It is both better and worse. And honestly, I don't think my friends who are younger can understand until they get here. I might think I am 12 inside, but when the young man at the liquor store tells me I shouldn't waste my money on an expensive (we are talking $20 here) bottle of wine because "older people can't taste things anymore" I admit that I am shocked at both his rudeness and the fact that he sees me as old. So Didion's experiences of vulnerability and insult are ones I can hear. I haven't read much by her, but I found this book compelling. And the shift of terrain I mentioned at the start of this post is something about aging, and finding new ways to engage with the preciousness of time.

Navigating Truth

Here is a picture of the top of the Chinese chest that is in our dining room. Does it look like I am someone who would enjoy craft fairs?

Some objects we have collected in our travels.

Ethnographic fairs--YES--but craft fairs....? Yesterday, however, I dragged my husband away from painting the house (thunderstorms) and down to a famous one in New Hampshire. Once again I find myself thinking that I should try to make functional textiles; that the economic climate is only good for the .000001 percent of the artists who are showing in top NYC galleries; and that $25 is probably the price point of what most people are willing to spend on non-essentials. I thought maybe I would get inspired by seeing what others are doing. Instead I found myself thinking of one of Fran Lebowitz's statements in Public Speaking (the Martin Scorsese excellent documentary on this outrageous and brilliant writer). She was telling an audience that just because you think something doesn't mean you have to write it--in fact, please don't share it with us. If I remember correctly, she even specifically mentioned blogs (I do note her words, even as I ignore them and write). So change writing to THINGS and you know how Mark and I felt at the fair.

There was a bright spot though in the middle of the tents, where Sarah Heimann had a booth of her beautiful, incredibly intricate carved ceramics. Seeing her work was worth the price of admission. One of her pots would look very good indeed on our Chinese cabinet top.

Sara Heimann with her wonderful hand carved ceramics.

This might not seem related, but I have been busy reading cookbooks and chef's memoirs this summer. Have you read Blood, Bones and Butter by Gabrielle Hamilton? I might not want to become her close friend (and what is the likelihood that I will ever get a chance at that?) but I loved her book and the truths she writes. I related to so many things she wrote about, relating her chef's experiences to my weaving experiences--being invited to a panel on women's chefs and getting quieter and quieter as she internally compared the reality of her life to the bromides of enthusiasm the others were throwing out; or her "lack of enthusiasm" as she approached Vermont thinking about people in cars going the other way "...fellow travelers, people like us who enjoy other human contact and human activity and who don't need to be secluded on a hundred acres without even a house pet..." And now I am almost done with Anthony Bourdain's Kitchen Confidential. I know I could never keep up with his drugs, and drinking, sex, and rock and roll but I really get it when he talks about good chefs failing when they stop doing what they do well and think they can do everything. So maybe I won't go the functional textile route, other than for my own use, or if I do, I will have to stay close to my personal likes and my strengths, and ignore the market research of finding out what others are selling.

Scale model of upcoming exhibition at Fuller Craft Museum
(work by Fuyuko Matsubara on back wall, Deborah Carlson on side wall, and Bhakti Ziek's Nomad on right wall)

In light of that wisdom to stay true to one's self ("Follow your bliss" is the way Joseph Campbell put it), I am refinishing the six panels of my weaving Nomad. I am going to be in an exhibition at The Fuller Craft Museum opening September 15, 2012 with an artists' reception on Sunday, September 30th. Cyndy Barbone, Deborah Carlson, Fuyuko Matsubara and myself will be exhibiting together. Cyndy and I put together a scale model of the exhibition and decided I should put the panels together. That led me to decide that I should stretch them onto bars so I can exhibit them taunt--the way I see the cloth on the loom--the way I like seeing the work as I make it--the way I intend it in my mind. It was going to cost almost $700 to purchase frames and canvas, and they still would have to be put together (by Mark, of course) so I was thrilled when he said he could make them from scratch (another words, stop painting the house for a week and work for me). So it is only costing one-quarter of the purchased price and it is much better because these are exactly the size I need.

Panel 2 (of 6) from Nomad by Bhakti Ziek, 2010

When I was weaving Nomad, thinking about how large the world is, how vast the ocean, how dark the deep waters on a night without the moon, remembering living on an island in the Yucatan for eight months where the sound of the waters was always with me, I could see that the words, which map places I have lived or travelled and that take the shape of the continents of the earth, were very subtle, floating in and out of the ground water. I decided to give myself permission to be as subtle as possible, to create an experience where one has to sit with the piece and look long and hard before the piece revealed its secrets. I know I have created a difficult work for these times, where looking seems to need big panels of explanation next to a work, or a voice tour that you access as you tour an exhibition, or those recently ubiquitous QR codes. But I hope the new installation will invite some people to look, experience, and be inspired. A dark night, moonless....just you and the vastness of the ocean, the sky, the air, your memories, and your thoughts.

Just want to end by saying I had a wonderful day at King Arthur Bakery last month, the gift of my generous friend Steve Ford (superb baker and artist extraordinaire, partner in Ford/Forlano). He took me to a sour dough bread workshop (Amber Eisler was the excellent teacher), and Mark to a rye bread workshop. They have remodeled their facilities and the class room was terrific. I still have to learn my way around the new store, but I am sure I will.

Amber Eisler teaching sourdough bread making at King Arthur; Steve Ford and Clive in middle picture left; the classes beautiful results bottom right.

Weaving Fun Stuff

Rigid Heddle Looms by Travis Meinolf

I have been watching the post daily anticipating the small package that arrived today. Two rigid heddle looms that I got from Travis Meinolf. He calls himself an Action Weaver and I read about some projects he did with the public where he had people weave strips of cloth on these looms. He makes the rigid heddles with a lasar cutter--and I was entranced by the bright colors and energy of bringing weaving into the streets. So I wrote to see if I could purchase some, and he said he would trade if I had something to trade (he "doesn't believe in money" is the way he put it; I thought, "I was young once too.") I knew he was going to be teaching at SAIC this summer, so I suggested I bake cookies and send them. After I sent the email I wondered if that was a bit too homebody, but he wrote back and said GREAT--and please send enough for the class. That was easy. Apparently he sent me two looms from Germany (he lives in Berlin) but they never arrived. Wonder who the lucky person is who has my package. I can't imagine some custom officer wanted these looms. Fortunately, Travis had two with him in Chicago, and those are what arrived today.


They are very clever. The flat wooden parts are ways to hold your warp at both ends, and attach them to a stationery something and around your back. Another words, a very sweet backstrap loom. I can't wait to try. And my part of the exchange--I made the madeline recipe from my Laduree cookbook and also their apricotines which are almond cookies with apricot jam sandwiched between two of them.

Book by Marion Tuttle Marzolf

Another fun weaving-related item that is by my bedside is this book, Shuttle in Her Hand by Marion Tuttle Marzolf, which my friend Toni King lent me a couple of days ago. Clicking on the title leads you to a nice review of the book online by Daryl Lancaster. Toni, who is a writer herself, knows Marzolf from Michigan where they were in a writers group together. When she read the book she thought I would be interested--and she is right. I enjoy reading about shuttles and threads and patterns and things that are familiar to me playing a leading role in a novel. I have just started but I know it is going to lead me to places and people that I know too.


I am not doing much in my studio these days. I rationalize it this way. Winter is nine months long in Vermont, summer is a brief three months. We (Mark and I) are painting the exterior of our house (I will post an image when one side is complete) and three brief months will probably not complete it--so this is the time to be outside scraping and painting, and sooner than I like it will be cold and I will have lots of time up in my studio.

Dance Performance Directed by Hannah Dennison

The other fun thing was going to see an amazing dance performance held in the Breeding Barn at Shelburne Farms. I think I wrote about seeing the movie Pina on this blog--and if not, I should have. It was so profound, and most nights one of us is watching some video clip of Pina Bausch and her group. I find the music as mesmerizing as the movement. So when a friend told me about this dance performance directed by Hannah Dennison called Dear Pina, the name alone inspired me to buy tickets. Clicking on the title brings you to Dennison's website about the dance. You can see parts of the dance, images of the barn, and you can see the costumes. If you look carefully at the brochure above you will see that I tried to sketch one of the dresses. I even asked the costume designer, Marz Black aka Leslie Anderson, if she had a pattern I could buy but she said she doesn't use patterns and besides each dress was made specifically for each dancer. Maybe I should have offered to barter cookies for a pattern specific for me.

Art and Food

Before any of our trips to NYC I always spend time on the computer doing research. I make lists of all the museums and galleries, their locations and what is showing. It doesn't matter that I have copies of the gallery guide, or I have done this before, or even that I think I can find most of them blindfolded, I still make my lists. I also make lists of potential restaurants--and the top item I look for are dim sum restaurants. It is nice to see that Nom Wah Tea Parlor, the first place my mother took me for dim sum when I was a child, is still open and recently getting good press, after a period of some questionable reports. Sadly three trips to NYC and I still haven't fit dim sum into the equation. I think it was easier when galleries were in Soho, but Chelsea is just a bit off the route to Chinatown.

Laduree, Madison Avenue and 71st Street, NYC

We did get to Laduree though. Be sure to click HERE and see their website--the animation just seems so perfect for their product and image. It's located just south of the Whitney Museum, and the Biennial was definitely on our to do list. It was pouring rain and as we approached the store we heard one man say to his companion, "The line would be winding around the corner if it wasn't raining so hard." So we lucked out.

Cookbook with Macaron Recipe

I purchased their cookbook, Sucre, after reading about it on the Not So Humble Pie blog. It came packaged in a box that looked like it was full of sweets, and when you open the box you find this softly colored tissue paper and small book with gold paper edges and a velvet cover. The pictures are scrumptous and I remember that Mark, my friend Marianne, and I just sat there and turned every page in the book--oohing and ahhing the whole time.

A variety of Laduree Macarons--a bit weary from being hauled around all day but still delicious.

I got a selection of different macarons for dessert that night. We cut them into quarters and critiqued them with our friends as we ate them. The raspberry one just seemed like regular jam inside, and the vanilla one (I think) had a sort of marshmellow-like filling that I didn't like at all (and I like marshmellow), but all the rest were delicious. It was so much fun to actually buy and taste them but I think in the future I will just make my own.

Images from the Whitney Biennial: Werner Herzog (top), Lutz Bacher (left middle top), Elaine Reichek (right middle top), Statement by Forrest Bess (left middle bottom), weaving by Travis Meinolf for installation by Kai Althoff (right middle bottom), Forrest Bess (bottom)

The Whitney Biennial 2012 is closed now but we managed to get there during the final week. I thought it was a relatively quiet show. Textiles are definitely a popular medium now and Elaine Reichek's room and the shroud woven by Travis Meinolf were both prominent. I have been a fan of Werner Herzog since seeing his Nosferatu in 1979, and as I approached the space where his installation was located, the music coming out of it let me know I had arrived. If you click on his name in the previous sentence, you can listen to a discussion he had with the curators of the Biennial on May 17th. Does anyone else have such a wonderful hypnotic mesmerizing enthusiastic voice? He opens my heart to wonder.

Opening of Silence at Masters & Pelavin, curator Jaanika Peerna (left), Anne Lindberg (second from left) and other artists in the exhibition; "Sleep" by Anne Lindberg (below)

We timed this trip so we could attend an opening of the exhibition Silence at Masters & Pelavin, which included work by our friend Anne Lindberg. It was packed, so the title Silence was like an oxymoron--but then the curator, Jaanika Peerna, asked for a moment of silence and a sense of peace took over the room. Mostly I get to encourage and applaud my friends these days through Facebook and email--we are all so spread out in space--so it was really meaningful to be able to see Anne (and her husband) and share her success in person.


On the way home we spent hours at DIA Beacon. No pictures are allowed so you will just have to go in person and experience the work, the place, the ambiance. My advice: GO! To me it was definitely a holy pilgrimage. This is the art that I understand as "Art." Robert Ryman, Sol LeWitt, Agnes Martin, Blinky Palermo, Walter De Maria...and the list goes on. GO!     

Already Memories

Raining in NYC

We came home from NYC with more than the Pisco Brandy that we bought. Not surprising since it rained the whole time we were there and we walked around with wet feet for days. We live a very isolated life in Vermont, so the crowds in the museums, galleries and buses must have given us some germ that has caused constant coughing, sneezing and hacking since May 25. Finally we both went to doctors and are on the mend.

Why the Pisco Brandy? Well I made a Bobby Flay dinner for a party a month or so ago that included his Pisco Sour Sangria. I had gotten all the ingredients and then discovered that none of the liquor stores in NH or VT (state-run) sell Pisco. I substituted Grappa, and it was delicious, but I put Pisco on my NYC list. Every store I went in had several choices. I haven't tried it yet but it is something to look forward to later this summer.

We went across the Tappan Zee Bridge into Westchester, then the Bronx, over another two bridges into Brooklyn and later that day through the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel into Manhattan. We must have paid every toll possible in just a few days, and it did feel like we were hemorrhaging money. We went to Brooklyn so I could have a discussion/critique of my work with the curator of the Drawing Center's Viewing Program. It feels like perk enough to have my work included in the Viewing Program (if you click HERE it takes you to the home page where you can enter my name in the "Name or Keyword Search" area and go to my page), but I was thrilled to have an opportunity to meet with Nina Katchadourian. You may have seen The New Yorker blog article on her work, which was going around the Internet recently. I don't feel ready to discuss the generous conversation I had with Nina; I am still digesting and distilling it, seeing where it takes me and holding it close. But I will share my thoughts when I am ready. Meanwhile please go to my page, which I feel very good about, and give me some feedback.

Row Houses in Windsor Terrace area of Brooklyn
(unknown photographer)

We were just blocks away from the Windsor Place house we called home from 1983-1987, so of course we took a drive down nostalgia lane. The street is a facade of connected row houses. Every house on the block has been upgraded with vinyl siding in every pastel color imaginable, except the house where we lived. It had its familiar asphalt-siding (I always called it linoleum siding) and door with peeling paint and general air of weariness. It is our fish that got away. But if we had bought it when we could, I would never have gone to graduate school, or become a college professor, or lived in as many states as we have tried.

Ernesto Neto (above); Richard Avedon (below)

We headed for Chelsea galleries after Brooklyn. This trip we only had a chance to go there two afternoons, so we didn't see everything, but a little inspiration can go a long way. Nina recommended the Ernesto Neto show at Tanya Bonakdar Gallery and the Richard Avedon which was showing across the street at one of the Gagosian spaces. I like Neto's work, have watched it for years, but I am not so crazy about the recent spate of "gallery as amusement park" exhibitions. Bonakdar does have the kindest, friendliest staff that I have encountered in years, and I guess they need this attitude to deal with all the families with small children that I saw climbing all over the Neto's (as he intended). I loved the Avedon's because, like Patti Smith's "Just Kids", it brought me right back to my formative years. Ginsburg was always a hero of mine (first time I heard him read was in NYC around the time some of these photos were taken [he was so young!]) and it is amazing to stand in front of these huge images and study the people. Big art is so impressive and I am still struggling with the idea of how I can make my work big, bigger, biggest and still make it myself (which I want to do) and not physically destroy myself while making it.

Well, I am not done with the trip, but will stop for today. Have to go outside and scrape paint from our enormous house which just feels bigger with every scraping motion.