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In my last couple hours, I got to be right up close with the history of the Tribune Tower’s walls. Literally making art not only on the walls, but FROM the walls. The walls are transferred onto this sheet of paper with my labor and sweat. And now I have a piece of the Tower to bring home with me—along with the great memories of the joy of creation in my last hours in this historic building.
Read the full story on my blog post at www.spudart.org/blog/tribune-tower-pencil-rubbing/
Moving out of my studio flat in Archway after ten years. It looked so decrepit once I removed all the furniture!
I swear, we don't normally live in this sort of squalor. We're a bit less squalid when we're not trying to pack. ;)
If you spent all the effort to spray-seal your rubbing, you might as well have clean hands to remove it. My fingertips were pitch-black from the graphite.
Read the full story on my blog post at www.spudart.org/blog/tribune-tower-pencil-rubbing/
I had fun playing with this. Used tubes (chicken wire)to color and warp create netting, there's a frame under there somewhere. I can't even remember what the original pic was off, but it my mind got a way from me this morning and it ended with this. :)
24 Jun 1996, The Bronx, New York City, New York State, USA --- A young domestic violence victim, with a restraining order against her husband, covers her face as she leaves the Sarah Burke House, a women's shelter in the Bronx, New York, to travel south to join her family. The women's shelter was founded as a safe haven for victims of domestic abuse and their families.??. --- Image by © Viviane Moos/CORBIS
My stove, as many of my friends and family know, gives me fits. On the one hand, it's a gas stove, and there's nothing like cooking with gas. On the other hand, it's a bear to keep clean (combine the usual effort of post-cookery cleanup with the additional grease and sludge that comes from living down the street from a power plant, and the result is a stovetop that requires weekly cleaning with oven cleaner), the oven heat is uneven and the oven itself is only 18 inches deep and 14 inches wide at its widest point. That said, there was something particularly satisfying about standing here, drinking a glass of Something while stirring a pot of Something Else while the Amtrak trains to Boston ran overhead, and I'll be a little sorry to not stand in this spot anymore. Only a little, though. And I will NOT miss having to bleach the walls. ;)