May 1st I went over to Indio Senior Center and hung 21 paintings. Or more accurately, Nancy Vance, the community program administrator hung them after I opened boxes and set them out against the wall. And we put up the prices and signage and photographed the show. In 45 minutes. Talk about knowing what we’re doing!
Last week, while I was in Yuma, a good friend of mine, Michael Angelo Hernandez (yes, you know someone whose work hangs right next to that of MichaelAngelo) organized an art display and evening at Desert Polymer Flooring in Indio. Well, an evening turned into a month and they want us to leave the artwork there until the end of May. Works for me!
Sometimes a little local knowledge can be vital.
Last Wednesday when we were setting up for the South West Art Festival in Indio, my booth neighbor from Utah, had stacked his boxes on the grass in the space between our booths. This fair is at the Polo Grounds and we have lush grass there. I’d not met Peter before but that’s no excuse to not be a good neighbor.
I suggested that he put tarps under his boxes, pointing out that the polo field was very well irrigated, plus we had had several days of great rain recently and might get dew. Yes, I know, dew in the desert seems like an oxymoron but it does happen! Peter decided to take my advice and while I was unloading and parking the truck piled his boxes into my space and tarped under his boxing area.
Turned out to be a good call. On the Thursday morning when we were completing set-up, my boots were quite sodden walking around on the grass. If he had not tarped under them, those boxes would’ve been history.
I have a solo show at the Indio Senior Center for the month of November. You can drop by and see it even if you’re not a senior! It’s on the wall of the hallway to the left of the reception desk.
At the chalking festival, I had a lot of spare time on Sunday, sitting next to my creation and talking to people. Across the street from me a couple of youngsters drew the above in the gutter and against the curb. Inspiration indeed!
Draw your lost things.
Draw your lost things, there upon the street:
Your heart, your head, your homework, or the key.
A part of life suddenly incomplete.
Oh things! you think, oh please come back to me!
You rack your brain for where they’re left behind,
the cafe or the office or the car.
You look and look and still you cannot find
but that they’re not the same place that you are.
You turn over a glass, a wish to make,
but still your precious things eludes your grasp.
Were they stolen? Did they evaporate?
You cannot think of who else you could ask.
Your lost things’ minds might try to draw you too,
thus wishing might just draw them back to you.
It didn’t rain at my house overnight on Saturday. However when I got to Indio, I found that there had been two hours of steady good rain there. Ugh. The city people had gotten there a little earlier and removed all the tarps to let the paintings dry. They needed to be dry before we could start on repair work, so we had a little time to commiserate between each other before we could start. Rafael’s painting – Lincoln, and Bijan’s painting (we think we read each others’ minds when we came up with such similar design ideas) had the most damage.
Amateur entries continued throughout the day, to the extent that there was so much judging for Kathy Dunham to do that the awards ceremony was about 40 minutes late. Here were the results in the professional category. The prizes were $2,500, $1,500 and $1,000.
1. Bijan Masoumpaneh
2. Rafael Valencia
3. Jeni Bate
I awoke to a cloudy sky. There had been a forecast of possible overnight rain, and I had put a tarp over my painting, though it was not big enough and I could only tarp about 60% of the finished part. As I was starting to get ready to leave, it started to rain. There wasn’t any time in which to hurry any faster. It rained a little as I drove the 40 miles to Indio. When I got there, Mamun (the city planner) was walking out to the parking lot. He said to me ‘It rained hard here overnight, it’s a disaster, it’s all gone.’ $%&#$%^. Then he confessed he was joking. $%&#$%^, Mamun!
We did have some sprinkles during the day, much of the morning I had most of my work tarped, even under the canopy. It cleared up in the afternoon, though there is still a forecast of rain overnight. Here’s the progress.
Let’s go check out some of the competition.
Judging is at noon tomorrow, but we have to be done by 10am.
I spent much of the day folded up on Miles Ave in Indio, wearing out my fingerprints, making my knees and hips sore, and straining my back. This is for a big competition. Well, big for me, anyway. I’ll let the pictures paint the thousand words as my fingers are sore from rubbing chalk into the blacktop.
Well, didn’t think I’d finish today, but I did. Put in a full two hours, it’s easier to work when you know that some of the traffic that’s honking is honking at you in appreciation.
And about every third person who stopped at the lights rolled down their window and said it looked great.
Another local artist who also does murals in a different context stopped by to chat.
I did the top clouds lighter because it seems like they will fade darker anyway (comparing with photos of the original) and I knew the city planner was always a little unhappy at how dark the top came out.
Today was the first day of color underpainting. I’m happy that I got through it all without running out of Cobalt, but I did have to run out for Cobalt and Cadmium Yellow later as I don’t have enough for the next coat.
I was thinking when I was painting that I should have a few business cards in my pocket, just in case. Indeed that was true as someone did ask me for one when he was stopped at the lights. He just pulled round the corner and we exchanged info. Tomorrow, business cards! (Although the conversation was useful and might end up in something further.)