There is no snow. The streets are dusty, dirt encrusted. The sky is that kind of heavy grey which is only fit for a Cormac McCarthy picnic. All the garbage so nicely illuminated. Everyone keeps talking about how warm it is but the wind is grim and insistent and the effect is like standing directly beneath a gigantic bridge. On the radio they talked to a Canadian parachutist who crash landed somewhere in the States; his hospital bill is enormous and he has no insurance. It's just one of those things, he said. I never thought it would happen to me. The forecast calls first for snow and then deep cold coming in.
C is friends with the fashion stylist Rebekah Roy (left in both pics above) ... one of those people who personify calm and smiling success. On her blog she presents glamour in this very sincere, straightforward way ... whether she's taking pictures of people on the street , talking about stain removers , her favourite videos , or attending some glittering party . One minute she's ruminating on hair extensions, and in the next she reveals how she's been featured on the Vogue UK site. A real disarmer and charmer (and this without meeting her yet, although I feel like I know her because we both did our time in Winnipeg). * * * * * Coming home from Russia, we did many bad things. ; mixed media on canvas, 10 x 10 inches. In my own life, the glamour is wholly imagined. * * * * * witches, smoke ; mixed media on canvas, 10 x 10 inches. My second go at this one, and for some reason I'm painting a lot of smoke lately (note to self: tell C that I want to be cremated). *
The title of this post implied a much juicier confession.
ReplyDeleteI never thought it would happen to him either...?!
ReplyDeleteChilly
ReplyDeleteHahhahaha! Yes, it does seem like the title some juicy pulp fiction. Glad you got a reprieve from the snow. I love your ink drawing of your coat.
ReplyDeleteI can't imagine Cormac McCarthy at a picnic.
ReplyDelete