She chose to sit with me.
Breaking one’s back gives one carte blanche to pre-board a plane.
I like the second row. Unlike the roomy first row, you can still hang on to your stuff, be close to the restroom and away from the aroma of the ever-brewing coffee carafe.
Basically, the plane was empty. She had almost every seat to choose from, but she motioned to the window seat next to me and I nodded “yes”.
It was hot in Chicago that day, and hot on the plane. That heavily moustached woman with grey highlighted hair, twisted into a bun, carried a huge carpetbag akin to what one sees in viewing those circa 1880 B & W photos of European immigrants disembarking at Ellis Island. She wore thick black, pilled winter sweat pants and a tattered lacy pink sweater. My eyes saw her placed in an R. C. Gorman painting, with flowing skirt, surrounded by mesas, pounding corn.
As the plane pulled away from the gate and all items were to be stored under the seat, up came the carpetbag, covering both our laps as she dug for her deep burgundy crystal rosary beads.
As we ascended, the rosary was spun with one hand, as the other fervently made the sign of the cross. The aerobic intensity of self-crossing continued until we reached cruising altitude. The rosary was then secured in a cracked clear plastic box that may have once held a deck of cards. With the speed of a flicked lightswitch she rested her head on the window and fell into a deep snoring slumber.
As a few of my good friends and my children know, I’m not afraid of flying, but I’m not a big fan of air travel. I have a built-in knowledge of seeing a plane come down. Was it the small 2-seater that my daughter Jennifer and I saw nosedive into a wooded area some years ago? I certainly hope so!!! Days before cell phones, in a crowded doctor’s waiting room, I called the police, who assured me that no missing plane had been reported. Hours later, back at home, we convinced the FAA to search. They found a small plane and two passengers hanging upside down in the wires, behind the trees.
Is it some kind of Guiness record to actually have known 11 people who have perished in commercial plane crashes? Not to mention the near misses. I do not want to be part of any such competition.
Back in the air, the pilot announces our decent into Detroit. Seatbelts secured, one last nervous bladder run to the restroom and out comes the carpetbag and burgundy rosary beads.
I wanted to hold that shivering woman and comfort her. In today’s climate of political correctness, I didn’t know what to do. I prayed that, even in my stillness, she could feel my arms around her, silently assuring her that she’d be ok.
That was the most relaxed flight I have ever been on. I have never experienced praying like hers. If that plane had spun or dove or jolted, even with my beloved on my other side, I’d have had my arms around that woman and her burgundy rosary.
Thank you, Dear Woman, for choosing to sit next to me. You would be welcome to share every future flight, sitting next to me.
The Burning of Detroit
I’m closing in on the end of my 6 week MoMA course, Catalysts: Artists Creating with Video, Sound and Time.
We are to discuss our personal favorite technological device. At this point, I am unable to commit to one.
When I began the class I had never hit the record button on my 3 digital cameras. I still don’t own a cell or a smart phone, but I did start the conversion from PC to MAC and downloaded nearly a dozen programs for video and sound editing. Pushed lots of buttons, crashed programs and the new MAC.
Collaborating with my husband (who restores the computer, after I muck it up), because 6 weeks wasn’t enough time for this person to learn what I needed to know, I’d brainstorm an idea and we’d both go searching for the tools I’d need to accomplish my goal.
I’ve done little else than move from the computer, during waking hours. Taking breaks for Email and FB. Time to step back and digest what I have learned. Really learn the programs and processes. Decide which to keep and which to delete. So much new media technology, artists, performances and dialog – it’s been a dizzying ride.
So, I’ve decided to highlight a meaningful moment in my life with digital photography and Canon’s photo software, Digital Photo Professional, a digital darkroom.
Celebrating my grandson’s 1st birthday, with both sets of grandparents, nearly 1000 photos were taken. Not wanting to disrupt the moments, using a flash, setting up a tripod etc,, most photos were taken with the subjects back lit. In EVERY shot, the auto-focus zoned in outside the windows and the subjects were rendered black.
A few short weeks later, the other grandfather lie in the hospital dying. Family and friends coming in town to say good-bye, only the grandsons were not allowed inside, even into a waiting room. November is Flu season and the hospital was prejudiced in favor of Flu viruses being transmitted via full-sized versus miniature carriers.
Thus, I spent a couple sleepless rights working with DPP, bringing the dark into the light, salvaging and cropping over 500 photos. Printing only a handful of special shots, I created a moving slide and video show of children, grandsons and spouses.
Racing against the clock, I was able to take a laptop with a large monitor with me when I went to say my goodbyes. Our last hours together were spent looking at his grandchildren and celebrating life.
Moving past the digital camera, I’m enthusiastic about keeping up with the Blogs made by Randall and everyone in the class, sharing new videos with and learning from them all.
A slow weekend for media art exhibitions in Houston. Most are. We aren’t New York City, after all!
The tail end of a film festival wasn’t quite what I had in mind. Especially, when afterward, I had to listen to people tell me what I had just seen.
Email conversing with an assistant to the curator @ the Museum of Fine Art-Houston, I was directed to Nam June Paik’s Rose Art, as “the only” piece I was going to find. Monumental, but now historical.
So I decided to follow two hometown favorites, Michael Galbreth and Jack Massing, “The Art Guys”. http://www.theartguys.com/
In commemoration of 30 years of collaboration, the Art Guys executed their 11th of 12 monthly events in Houston, Texas, in 2013.
They drove the 38 mile Inner 610 Loop, circling the city 30 times in 24 successive hours. 5:00 PM Saturday 11/10 – 5:00 PM Sunday 11/11.
LOOP was designed to engage the widest possible audience by utilizing a variety of media. “The Art Guys engage the media, because the media engages the public.”
On-line and print newspapers, posters and a detailed Van in the mall, announced the upcoming live event. Michael and Jack engaged their audience for 24 hours via Facebook, Twitter and cell phone. One could follow the 12 hour clockwise, then 12 hour counter-clockwise route and their speed on Glympse, a real-time tracking app that utilizes Google Maps.
I sent my resident photographer out to video the Art Guys passing by on their final Loop. Miss-judging when and where he could get a good shot from the side of the road, they had already passed by. From home, using Glympse and the Find My iPhone app, I was able to navigate him to their location where he was able to follow and film them on the final LOOP.
I called the Art Guys by phone, en route, to inquire about their 12th event. They plan to re-create their 1st piece “The Art Guys Agree on Painting”, where they plunged their hands into buckets of paint and then shook hands over a piece of paper. Only this time from atop two cranes, 30 feet up.
I asked if the paper would be 30 feet up or on the ground. The answer will be revealed December 7th, time and place to be announced.
Summing up the Art Guys’ performances, for the rare disgruntled curmudgeons, who “just don’t get it”, in three words: “They’re Just Fun!”
The Art of Noise: A MoMA Catalysts week # 4 video
Assignment taken literally, one take, unscripted. Looking into the rafters for instant inspiration.
The Art Guys announce
event #11 of “12 Events”
Time: 5:00 p.m. until 5:00 p.m. (24 hours)
Date: Saturday, November 9 through Sunday, November 10, 2013
Location: Interstate 610 Loop, Houston, Texas (beginning and ending at I-610 at North Shepherd)
Description: – The Art Guys will drive the I-610 loop around Houston for 24 hours – 12 hours in one direction, then 12 hours in the opposite direction. While in transit, The Art Guys will make themselves available to all media to share the experience with as wide an audience as possible.
“Loop” is sponsored by Memorial City.
For more information visit
During the event, audiences may call and speak with The Art Guys directly by calling 832-712-6207.
This phone number will only be active for the 24 hour period of the event.
This past August, not at all elated over turning 60, I agreed to go out to dinner with my husband, Ken, and our immediate family. I was to act surprised to find our children and their families waiting for us.
“Surprise!!!” Who were these people? Panic enveloped me. My family had managed to fill the room with “OLD Friends”. Even though 2 are edging up to the Century Mark, “Old” meant the friends I keep in touch with by Email, send a birthday card to, promise to get together with, but never find the time to.
We live in a home with 5 of 8 computers continuously running. Ken has a laptop attached to him, akin to a conjoined twin. I could not help but think, “Really – you can’t go out for 1 hour without that thing?”
Guests were having hors ‘d oeurvers placed in front of them, but I got “the laptop!” To my great astonishment were 5 windows of friends skypeing in at the same time.
In the wee hours of many mornings, Ken had stripped my Email address book and had even gotten a message to the administrator of a Face Book group, the Post Millennium New York School – The Cedar Bar. A site where alumni of MoMA’s Ab-Ex course meet to discuss art. Everything was arranged on-line.
The experience was hard to take in. People in the flesh, loud and boisterous. Friends and relatives from around the globe skypeing in. I was presented with a folder of Emailed birthday wishes and images. Video messages awaiting me. Friends and family virtually meeting each other. Some dressed for the occasion, some in P.Js’. Friends holding up drawings, paintings and grandbabies, one reading a poem and one took me for a tour of her garden in Newfoundland.
A basketful of plants, obviously a funeral arrangement, arrived from Russia, with greetings for a 60th Wedding Anniversary. Blame it on Google Translate – Blame it on the computer. It couldn’t have been Human Error!
So Dear “Old Friends”, one I knew as red haired, now snow white, one with brown hair, now hairless, I promise to do better. BUT…… knowing myself only too well, I urge you, PLEASE, join me on FB. Post photos, so that when we meet again at my 70th birthday party, I’ll recognize you!
Geocaching FLASHmobs – Flashbacks to FLUXUS Festivals of the 60’s