Dream Huntress

Trying to catch up with everything I didn't take care of while in Israel and then, while getting ready for Ned's mom trunk show.

The first thing on my list was postcards from the edge, an AIDS benefit art show, exhibiting about a million artists, each with a postcard size piece. It's my 4th year of taking part in their show and I really didn't want to miss that.



I made 4 postcards and let Ned pick his favorite to go to the show (that's what i did last year as well, which prove to be a good system, since the postcard sold). The other 3 went to the Etsy store.

Then I started working on the next deadline which is a Vespine gallery annual event in which artists who already exhibited in the gallery show more of their work. I wanted to keep working on the same theme of the postcards, and though, by now it looks quite different, I think what I was interested in, which is a very crowded image that looks spars, not because the page is empty but became the whole image in monochromatic, still works on a larger scale.

This drawing took about 2 days longer then I expected it to. Somehow, it just wouldn't finish.

But now it is and I need to get going about wrapping it and getting it into the gallery on time.

Phonecall

So the first thing I felt was really proud of myself. The second was ashamed at being proud for something most people do wihout giving in another thought. Worst, something I used to do without giving it another thought.

Ned left a massage on my phone to call his mom. She's having a trunk show and have some of my art for display. One of the plates were missing a price tag, and she needed to know how much to sell it for.

My first instinct was to lie, to tell Ned I didn't notice his voicemail. It was so obvious to me, I didn't think of anything else to do.then I actually made that call, said hi, talked to Ned's mom for a minute, let her know what she needed to know and ended the call.

Some days, especially when I overcomes my anxiety, I hate them so much. And myself for not doing better.

Morning

I fall asleep last night at 9:30 after going to Ned's parents house to set up for a trunk show and have dinner with them. We were all tired. Coming home I lay down in my cloths and glasses till Ned came to bed and wreseled me out of them, I remamber that just barely, then, nothing but dreams.

Sitting in a coffee shop

Drawing and having tea.

It's cold in here, and the music it too loud.

Even with the headphone on, and a story playing. I still feel exposed and can't really leave my thought enough to focus on the drawing.

I feel like such a stranger today.

Early morning

Around 8:30, and we are having breakfast at home, the restaurants are all still closed. Ned is clean shaven and smells like a forest. He clears the dishes of the table in t shirt and underwear.

We speak about last night, the friend we met for dinner, the conversation we had.

Light is falling, warm and golden, through the bathroom window.

I can't quite think in words just yet.

A domestic day

Making soup and barely for the week, and trying to sync google calendars with Ned.

It feels like winter.

I was at : 289 N 7th St, Brooklyn, NY 11211,

Table mat drawings

The first drawing I've done in about 2 weeks, didn't really get ot draw at all in Israel.

While I was there, me and my sister were trying to make a sock puppet in the shape of a Slow Loris. It was a really interesting exercise - trying to find the caricaturists of an animal and make it both realistic enough to be recognized and cute enough to look like a toy.

So, sitting there for breakfast I decided to see if I can draw this animal from memory, after already looking at the photo for so long.

Strangely enough - this looks nothing like a Slow Loris, but it looks just like the sock puppet I made which turned out to be a combination between an owl and a cat.



Second drawing I've done since coming back, about 23 hours later, at the same place, I think Egg is the only place that opens before 10:00 around here.

I was feeling so tired and so sad.