Thursday, August 19, 2010

The Cardboard Queen

My crazy talented sister Brook has long been illustrating her heart out, and this week launched her new website. I've been tapping my foot waiting for this moment like the annoying little sister I am. I'm so glad it's finally here. Homey is even blogging. Congratulations, Brook!

Back in the day, she went through a serious cardboard phase. I think it started after she found a huge bunch of it around the corner from her dorm at Parson's, on 17th Street and Union Square West. Correct me if I'm wrong about this, B.

Around then we had some make art/hang out sessions in her dorm. Here are a couple evidential photographs of one such evening.



The (other) foxy blond is the lovely Julia.



I think we probably drank more cheap beer (Budweisers, shocking), smoked cigarettes, and chatted with our artsy friends than made art, but whatever. It was fun.

A few years later, Brook and I were sharing a room back at home when she was hired to do figures for the window of the old Patricia Field store. You can tell how big the figures are by comparing them to the two mannequins in the far right corner.



Those suckers were big! She got them all back when the window was taken down, and I remember often waking up with the redheaded vixen in black in the middle giving me the eyeball.



She did cardboard pieces for magazines, too, like these of Clint and Whatserface. Whatserface's hair is truly a tour de force, especially when you see it in person.



I really dug the whole era, obviously. But much like hmm, say, Picasso's Blue Period, Brook's work with heavy wood-based paper was destined to end. And you know what? This post is making me feel really old. That cardboard era was a hella long time ago!

Check out Brook's more current work at brookmeinhardt.com.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Another snake

I made another snake toy this week. He went into a box last night and I sent him off this morning. Goodbye, snake number 2!



We had a teary-eyed photo shoot before he left.



He's for a little man named Van, the baby of a friend of Evany's. I hope he likes it. Moreso, I hope Van and Desi get together and have snake wars or snake coffee klatches together long into the future.



Although I suppose if this guy just ends up stopping a draft, that's not so bad.

Sunday, August 8, 2010

Gasp

I've tried to keep P shielded from what goes on in my apartment when he's not around, but then he found this image on the web.


Photo found here.

Friday, August 6, 2010

Bookworms

I thought it was funny when I went to the library to pick up books this week, how revealing my current stack is. It's like, duh, I wonder what kinds of things this person is thinking about, and what time of year it is?

Thursday, August 5, 2010

The dangers of recycling





Can you imagine the nervous breakdown this building's super has when he finds a greasy pizza box in the plastics bin?

Sunday, August 1, 2010

N'awlins

Last week, I went down to Louisiana's fine city with P for its annual cocktail convention, the same one we attended last year.



It was fun, and swampy as hell hot. Sadly, I didn't take any photos as amusing as the one from last year of someone's crutches locked to a parking sign (sorry, Erica). In fact, the only pictures I'd like to share with you, dear reader, are of lampposts. It's not as boring as it sounds. I hope.


The first is of the ubiquitous "Sauce" tag. Mr. Sauce is everywhere in New Orleans. When you're driving into the city from the airport, he's picked several prime locations to shout out his chosen graffiti moniker in a big way. If you ask me, this guy has perhaps unwittingly opened the door for food-inspired graffiti names. When is the notorious Spaghetti going to start competing with him, for instance? SAUCE vs. SPAGHETTI!!! OK, that's kind of stupid.



Drivin N' Cryin is still together, thank god. (Whenever I think of this band's name, which is surprisingly often, it makes me crack up.)



Speaking of the Lord. We found ourselves on the corner of Race and Religious one night. I don't know if there's another street corner in America as intense as this one. P bought an all-natural, very delicious plum snowball on Piety street one day. Or maybe it was Desire street. Desire comes right before Piety in New Orleans. But even those weighty words are no match for this particular crossroads.


Whoa.

We also ate and drank a lot: Parasol's roast beef po boy, fried chicken from the Praline Connection, enormous, cold sweet teas every five seconds, crazy ice cream flavors from the Creole Creamery, kooky cocktails from here to eternity, swam in a lovely pool every day, and peeled out of town to check out the bayou and hike around a little, but didn't see any snakes or alligators (aw). In other words, I have never sweat so much in my life.