So....The movie is in rough cut almost done.  Certainly not the behemoth it has previously been.  Now I am able to focus on what I love most....ArtFun shared with my peeps.  I have always had an "I Love Lucy" approach to life which my husband tolerates with such grace that it would put Ricky to shame.
So....I get a few willing friends and we decided to go all Mickey Rooney and put together a pop up gallery exhibition.  It will be on October 18th in the historic Farrs Building on the Northside which I have found out was at one point in its history a shoe store.This particular location is still in its raw state, translation - wear smart shoes.  The goal is that the space will be a character or influence in the evening's art work. I have done this type of guerilla exhibition before in both Hoboken, NJ ('87) and Newark, NJ ('96 - '04ish).  This however is the first time I am working with a corporate sponsor.  Where it not for my dear friend negotiating both parties I would expect to be screwed completely because I am working with a developer. (land vampire not cool like a landshark)
SO....This has caused me to gaze into my navel and ponder (one of my 8 yr old vocabulary words this week) the idea of space -  space as a commodity (duh), as a state of mind~ as a blank canvas ~as a tool~ as a weapon~ as a definition of who we are and where we begin and end. The tensions created by interior and exterior of shared and secretive  and the terrain of identity formation (mmm one of my favorite bailiwicks).
So... I leave with two parting thoughts... one comes from The Tick and one comes from a Japanese art collective. RINPA on


I have finally gained access to the this girl's barren apocalyptic vault.  I don't have any grand plans as I return to the clickety clack like a misbegotten Brenda Starr.  As I have finished up a major project - a documentary film - I am turning my attention to creative production for soul sake.  I toil like many of us at indentured servitude. and I have recently gotten lost in the hipper than hip Mad Men.  I have put off indulging in this sharp edged cotton candy.  Every now and then the hype is the smoke of fire.  For me this fire hits home as it explains to me the years of my family that are lost to me.  My father was an alcoholic,  NYC, ad man who disappeared and my mother ended up the lone divorcee in the burbs shunned by neighbors and alienated from her Long Island family.
The show is a scathing critique of the fabricated American culture that we have all come to know and either love or hate.  The problem is that most of general public are basking in the glorification of a culture that gave us the underpinnings of, what has become controversial, American Exceptionalism.
Does our greatness lie in our ability to create consumerism in place of democracy?  Does our polarization come from 70 years of commercial conformity?
The ideas of family, or rather the mold of idealized family, has a genesis and that point is Mad Men.  And we still don't get it.