April 3, 2012


To all you steppers out there lookin' sharp. Margot in the haus. This pair of hands gives off waves of Googone as they zip over keys. Painting for the Mother Crew. What to write? How to spell out the span of a new season and who cares to know? April is here. Amazing! April always surprises me. Where the hell did January go? That life feels like a hundred years ago. 

Yesterday I looked over at Craig taking it eeeeeasy in his printing chair while our prints exposed in two minute tandem. His eyes fixed on the line heavy with new work. Real ease. Can it be so simple? Working at ease, looking with ease. He encouraged me to take a load off, relax while the enlargers did the brute work. Sit? Me? I can barely stand still these days but the reminder was nice. Darkroom dance for two; the inaugural dance. I am really happy. I know. Me too. Feels good to be zipping around town feeling light as a wing these days, free to go where Alba takes me. Dry pavement beneath, tucked in and enjoying the ride. After a flop dinner for two, Creme and I postered the town a new one. It felt good to staple posters made with my hands to funny places. DIGITAL BE DAMNED! It felt good to dip through chain link fences pulled up at the corner like a page in a book, graceful as a dancer on a mission. 

Promo. Check.

Here is a poster I made for our exhibition. No frills.

It's all Hogwash anyway.

With that sentiment in mind I finally got down to biz in that familiar basement. Tony was there when he felt like it, watching us work away, tail tracing muscles in my legs like he has known my body forever. Cat in the darkroom. Check. Now that work is churning out like sweet beurre, I have decided to raise the bar. Contrast printing is it for the next few days and then we are moving on to color. Only Creme would approach the process like it was nothing at all. The lessons I continue to learn in his company...

Tonight holds the first lesson in small motor building. Going in blind, with just a word caught in my throat: Porting. Whatever that is. Wrenching. That's what Craig calls it. 

Gone wrenching with the rat pack. Loooooord help me. I am hellbent on experiencing this legend speed for myself before I leave for the spring adventure. 'Been riding my bicycle with the motorcycle helmet in preparation. Gotta self propel before that too becomes a thing of the past. 

New Mexico, I am coming for you.

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