Please visit "My Private Coney"

The wonderful writer and NYC blogger, C.O. Moed, interviewed me for her latest series on her blog. I'd be pleased to have you take a quick look and be sure to read over the archives of her blog - she's great.

The interview is here.

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Dem Nah Really Know Dem Selves - Tales of Perseverance

So you have to admit, you have a knack for attracting more than your fair share of crazy psychos, quiet sociopaths, mis-guided Ja-Fakens, rasta wannabees, outright criminals and generally unstable kooks into our lives over the past several years. True?

 How yah mean? (giving the side eye)

Let's face it, honey, you're like a Flystrip for Nutjobs, a Crazy-Ass Magnet. You're the Hurricane Alley for Storms of Insanity. Every year, a new one blows through. 

{Kissssss teeeeth} Ah true, dat. Mi nah know how dem always a fine mi.  A pure chobble dem gi' mi.

It's kind of like having your own personal hurricane season. They arrive slowly, without any indication that the season will be anything but slightly breezy. Maybe a few pockets of high pressure. Nothing to be alarmed about at first....

Ah true, dem all seem like dem narm-al. Dem nah seem so crazy.

Yeah, right and most hurricanes start out with only a few gray clouds in a clear blue sky. And, just like the storms, these nuts don't give you much time to  nail plywood over the windows. Before you know it, they've whipped up a fury of crazy ass winds, a Category 6 pounding. They barrel through the place making the weathermen cling to stop signs, and leave a trail of debris in their wake.

Hah -- mi like dat! Dem bring starm a true. Pure wind a blow true and mash up evry-TEENG. One come like a Gilbert, one come like a Ivan. 

So, why do you still spar with some of them?

Cho! How yah mean? Mi no really spar wid dem. Wi no really fren'.

Well, you still chat with most of them on the phone, you take their calls or still play ball with some of them or such. You never really burn a bridge, no matter how nutso they've gone on us.

Well, a true but dem nah really know dem selves. Mi finally see dem fi real, but (shrugs) dat a fi dem bizness. Mi no need fi say dis or dat, mi just know fi miself dat dem nah really fren', jess let dem hold dem carnah.

I think you have trouble with boundaries. You don't really put any fences up with these kooks. They still think you're best friends. Maybe after an initial dust-up you put them out for a hot minute,  but then it's right back to normal, as if nothing happened.

A so yuh tink. Cho. Nah mon, mi know dem and how far mi cyan tek dem. Mi have borderline wid dem, but dem just nah see it. Mi seh, dem NAH know dem SELVES, so how dem a know mi?

Let's run through a few - shall we?

(Smiling) Ah how many wi haff? 

Quite a few, sweetie, quite a few. And they all seem to follow a similar path, a pattern.

How yuh mean, pah-ton?

Well, I see a lot of similarities in the path to full-scale crazy. First, they all think you are their Best Friend, within a very short time of knowing you. You're very agreeable and likable, people instantly think they are close to you.

Ah true, dem teenk we a bes fren' but dem nah even really know mi. Sometime mi cyan even remembah dem name. Mi sit wid dem fi two ow-ah and mi nah know dem name.

See what I'm sayin'? And they are clueless. Here's what else is usually the case with the psychos:

1. S/he is a loner with few friends OR recently dumped by the only friend(s) or significant other they had.

Ah true, dat, dem nah have much fren'.

2. S/he is a college drop out, if they were lucky enough to even get into a college.

Mi cyan believe how dem have so much opportunity, nah like fi wi, and dem still a phuck up dem life.

3. S/he is a drug user of some kind and to to varying degree. But each has an intoxicant of choice. Which is used to excess.

Yah mon, dem like fi bun weed or tek acid or bun rock or sintin'.

4. S/he is unemployed and able to sit in front of the Sci Fi channel for hours on end. Or surf the internet until their eyes bleed. Or run up our phone bill.

 Ahhhh, true dat. Dem nah werk, dem nah haff no responsibility, like a mi.

Which brings me to number 5:  S/he is on the dole of some kind -- either public, such as welfare/social security/veterans benefits, or private such as a trust fund, distracted wealthy parents, or lottery winnings - seriously. 

Seen, suh? Dem nah haffi werk, dem haff munny! NUFF! Dem free fi jess sit an chat and bun. See wha mi seh? Dem nah know dem selves.

Let's start with "J". 

Ah, mi remembah "J".

Yeah, so do I. Troubled "J", who thought a nice little trip to Jamaica, to get life sorted out and, being your Best Friend, would also get an original Rasta Tour. See the Real Jamaica. Got a whole heap of money from Mommy to pay for the trip.

Yeah man, mi a teenk mi a gwan and get a whole heapah munny fi do sintin' in Jamaica. Mi teenk mi gwan gi' one tour and cash out. Dat a mash up fas' {kisssss teeeeth}. Pure prob-LEM.

Yeah, seems "J" tooted all of Mommy's money right up the nose before stepping on the plane to Mobay. I remember when you went to the airport for the pick up and "J" couldn't even put a dollar of gas in the car. Idiot "J" thought Jamaica was just one tropical paradise where you can just roll out your sleeping bag on the beach and live for free. Fool.

What a phuckery. Mi haffi put "J" up in Perseverance fi live fi nuttin. Pure cost. Cho.

Yeah, Perseverance, an aptly named dump. The place for those with nothing left to lose. If I recall, "J" ended up selling an expensive camera and even the last pair of shoes in order to pay the room fee. And I was on the phone with  "J's" Mommy over and over again, trying to get a return trip all sorted out.

Man, mi haffi borrow one shoes so "J" could fly home 'pon de plane.See wha' mi seh? Dem nah know dem selves.

Yeah, and so much for making money on the Original Rasta Tour. Let's talk about "E". Now "E" was a different story.

Mi all-wess say "E" gonna start some mischief. Mi know it. Mi mine seh "E" a chobble.

Yeah, but still you did business with "E."  Now "E" also thought you were Best Friends, when really you were just loose business associates. Right?

Gwan, chat now, lemme hear wha yuh seh?

Well, once "E" realized that getting burned in the business department, to the tune of around a thousand bucks, was just the cost of friendship, well then all hell broke loose. Thank god for the District Attorney's office and one speedy Restraining Order. Need I say more? What a nightmare.

(Shaking head) a dat mi seh, "E" jess chobble.

Let's chat about "D". Also one Best Friend for the longest while. Until things started going missing from our house. First it was little things from the bathroom - soap, toothpaste, fancy lotions.

And den mi nice gold watch GONE. Mi know seh "D" tek dat watch. Mi put "D" 'pon probation for lang time.

Yeah and then you let the probation lapse and before you know it, "D" was back in the house and stole a pile of checks! No more "D" in the house, ok?

Mi know seh mi haffi watch "D" close, mi know seh mi cyant let "D" alone in I house.

Like I said, I think you have trouble setting up boundaries with these kooks. Someone steals from you and me, just for starters, they should be banished. Others have done a lot worse. Banish and done, I say.

S'alright, mi jess know seh "D" is one teef. Mi have my boun-dree in my mine.

A boundary in your mind? Ok. How about "T", who we took in, fed, gave a place to stay for the longest time. "T" would have been living out of a car if it weren't for us. Then after a month passes and we're going to Jamaica, "T" expects to stay on, for free, while we are gone.

A true, we haff uddah people come fi stay and rent wi place, mi tell "T" he haffi go. An "T" no like dat.

Yeah, then "T" starts bad mouthing us to our friends and neighbors because we tell "T" it is Time To Go. No good deed goes unpunished. Do you still talk to "T"?

Mi no really spar wid "T". If "T" call mi a chat, if mi pass "T" 'pon de street, mi jess hail up, but dats it.

That's more than enough. Ok, let's chat about "K". Yet another misguided nut who mistakes a business arrangement for being Best Friends. Yet another sad soul who decides a first timer's trip to Jamaica for one Original Rasta Tour would be just the thing to get "K"s life on track.

What a ting. Mi sarry mi evah look 'pon "K." A true dat.

Yep, yet another one who soaked Mommy and Daddy for cash to see The Real Jamaica. Except that Mommy and Daddy didn't know Jamaica was the plan. A stolen credit card, forged checks and a switcheroo with an airline ticket -- the whole nine yards, what a scammer!  -- and "K" ends up in Jamaica alright, but eventually with NO CASH. Not at least as soon as Mommy and Daddy figure out they've been scammed by their own offspring.

Pure disappointment. Mi teenk "K" haff munny fi bun, mi seh, munny a flow. Cho. Pure phuckery a gwan wid "K". Eediat bizness. Mi really teenk dat mi gwan finish Miss Una's house 'pon dat trip (shakes head).

Oh, you finished something alright, but not Miss Una's house. Yet another loser on our hands who had to spend some time at Perseverance once the forged check gravy train came to a grinding halt. They all end up at Perseverance, don't they? There have been a few more in years past if we really want to dig up ALL the history.

What a ting. Mi sorry dat evah happen. "K" a pure phuckery bizness, pure teef an' lie.

You see what I mean about a pattern? And each and every one of these folks could call you on the phone today and you'd still chat with them, right?

So (shrugging again), what I dif-rence? Ah true, mi gi' dem one chat but dat no mean wi a fren'. MI SEH, dem nah know dem selves. Dat a fi dem problem.

But mi know dem now fi true. And dem nah know mi at-tall.

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Raw Like Sushi

Whenever we walk into Takahachi, our favorite local restaurant, the chefs behind the sushi bar hail us up, bump fists with the King and then

say, "So whose birthday is it tonight?" 

We're not high rollers and rarely eat out - I know my way around the

kitchen and the king is a first-rate chef -

 so we're happy to eat in 95% of the time. But if we 

can find a good reason to celebrate, whether it's a birthday, an anniversary, first

day of school or last day of school (!), a special holiday, any excuse to treat ourselves to a night out, we head straight to our cozy

Japanese favorite on Avenue A. 

  

Last month, our youngest and I both shared the honor since our birthdays are just 3 days apart. This past week, she and I both pointed to the King. 

Much laughter and hailing up from behind the sushi bar. And a conspiratorial whisper to me about what they might prepare as a special treat.

We've been treating ourselves to a meal at Takahachi since our girls were

babies, holding them on our laps at the sushi bar, enjoying a few hot sakes or the occasional cold sake-in-a-wooden-box. I could eat sushi  5 times a week but the King, well, that's another story. 

As much as he prefers Takahachi to any other restaurant in the East Village,

he won't go near the raw fish. Won't even consider it.
"Mi teenk mi gwan troh up, if mi eat dat." Charming. Nevermind then.

So his favorite restaurant is a sushi bar. But he won't eat the sushi. That

makes about as much sense as anything else in our family.  Pour another hot sake and throw some more chicken yakitori on the fire, it's the King's birthday!

Our youngest took some photos, natch. Her dad chose to try out the new jacket

we bought him -- a commemorative World Cup South Africa 2010 Adidas with a beautiful illustration on the back. 

Let's see, Mother's Day is just around the corner -- we'll be back.....

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All Quiet on the Western Front

4" x 6"   "All Quiet On the Western Front", oil on gallery-wrapped canvas

I spent several hours this weekend working on some small oils, mostly some prosaic

landscapes. The occasional coconut, of course.  The above painting is a view of a
deserted Negril Beach with slightly stormy seas -- a rare sight.
This beach is usually crowded with tourists and the seas typically have as
much wave action as your bathtub.

As far as the other  paintings I started? Nothing too earth shattering,
just some pretty views and a good way to loosen up with oils.
And avoid the several large portraits looming,  virtually staring 

at me, from my studio walls. They need my attention but I've been avoiding the challenge.

These small landscapes give me some immediate gratification. Sometimes I am

just such a lazy painter. I want to paint and have it finished and DONE. 

And soak up the satisfaction on the spot.

But no great thing is created suddenly.

Oils demand waiting time to dry in between layers. Watercolors move so much

more quickly, I've become spoiled. Marks made are marks played, washes of color dry in 

a few minutes, ready for the next. Oils? Not so much.

Patience is not one of my virtues.

The above painting is the only one I consider finished. Here are a few more

in various stages of completion. I juggled several at once, moving on to

another when one simply became too wet and layered with paint
to make any more changes.

Here's another beach view, in stages, from the opposite direction.This
one will have still waters and a handful of figures. It is also 4" x 6".

Next step.......

Going to let this one sit and dry for a few days before I go back to it.

Here is yet another beach view,  IN PROGRESS -- note the big white blob in

the center - which is waiting for me to add some chaise lounges. This is

slightly larger, 6" x 8" on canvas board. My youngest daughter has

first dibs on this one when it is finished:

And, shocking surprise, I worked on some coconuts. I dragged out an

older painting which had just pissed me off and frustrated me. It's an

8"x10" canvas. I last left it in this dreadful state:

 

I decided to really change it up, use a palette knife and slather on

the bright colors. The coconuts have gotten a little misshapen and

lumpy in the process, but I like the direction it's heading:

 Hard to get a good photo without the lights causing the wet oil to glisten

and create some glare. Here's another shot from the side:

It's funny but I've found that taking photos of these helps me see

the problems I've inadvertently created for myself. I can refer to

an earlier stage of the painting, some of which was correct, and

see where I went down the wrong road and adjust.

I started another painting of the same bunch of coconuts but on a

smaller 4"x6" canvas:

First stage, blocking in shapes:

Then slathering on the high key colors, primarily with a palette knife, but 

the coconuts got lumpy and misshapen again. I just don't

have the control with a knife that I would like:

I mixed these two photos in Photoshop

to see where I lost some of my definition:

It helped me see where I have to define the forms more when I go back to it. 

Well, that was a lot accomplished in one weekend. Or, better said, 

at least I got a lot started. I'll be adding these small oils to my Etsy shop

as soon as they are finished and fully dry. They'll be a nice,

affordable alternative to the other items for sale. 

Let me know what you think!

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A Family Affair

 

Daughter does the reading, mommy does the drawing and

daddy does the grilling. 

That would be a Clique book, a watercolor sketchbook

and roasted salmon wtih spicy shrimp. Best afternoon this week.

Maybe spring has finally arrived.........

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Published - Harvest Magazine

I just received this copy of a new independent literary magazine in the mail today, all the way from Melbourne.

Several months ago I was contacted by the publishers

of this literary magazine from Australia -- they inquired about using

one of my portraits to illustrate a short story for the upcoming

issue of their quarterly magazine.

I submitted a few choices and they selected this one, a portrait I 

painted of a friend of ours from Negril, Jamaica. 

I'd originally posted that portrait here on the blog 

over three years ago, with a story entitled "Heard it Through The
Seagrape Vine." Interestingly enough, it was used to illustrate

a story about a young man living in Brixton in the U.K. 
I was thrilled to see that they used the 4" x 6" image as a
full-page illustration to accompany the story, approximately 8" x 10." I just got

my copy of the magazine in the mail this week.

You can read more about Harvest here.

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Sag Harbor

The Bay in Sag Harbor, 10" x 5" watercolor in sketchbook

We got out of town this weekend and spent time with friends
at their lovely weekend home in Sag Harbor. Sunny but cool,
it was a treat to get out of the city. I finally broke out my
sketchbook and painted this
watercolor (above) one afternoon on the bay.

I was a little rusty. I spent the first few hours warming up by
simply drawing my coffee cup over and over again, as I sat outside
on the terrace:




I started with just an ink pen (far right, below) and also some
Faber-Castell Big Brush pens (left and center, below) to
fill out the form of the cup.

It was a good warm up, just drawing the same simple
form over and over again. And then I added
some color, using my small travel watercolor set:

Just a simple series of drawings but they loosened me up enough
to tackle the beach landscape.

I'd invested in a travel watercolor kit, just 6"x4" in size,
with collapsible brush. When brand new, they look like this:

After a few hours of painting, however, mine now looks like this:

Worth the mess. I think I"m going to try and use this kit and
sketchbook during my lunch hours at work, now that the sun
has begun to shine in NYC.

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Wall to wall Part 2 - and yeah, my walls are indigo

As promised, and in response to an email asking me,

"What do you hang on your walls, Victoria?"
I'm sharing a look at more of our home in the East Village.

Well, it should come as no surprise that the first thing we hang
on our walls is COLOR. (You can see the first look-around here.)


So Let's move upstairs, where a deep indigo rules.......

The first photo, above, is taken at the top of the stairs, looking
towards the children's computer/DVD space
(no real tv) and work room beyond

The walls in the main open area/master bedroom are a deep indigo. My husband groused about it at first -- "mi no like eeh. I' look black." But when the lighting is right, both daylight and incidental lighting, it is a rich hue, and the perfect backdrop for more photos and art. It's deep, inviting and embraces you.

To the rear of the space is the workroom, where the
girls cut loose --they can dribble glue, spill paint,
spray glitter and generally unleash
their creative whims without worry. The space is the former
kitchen of our original one-level, 2-bedroom apartment
(we've expanded into the 2-bedroom unit below)
and the tile floor remains, the perfect surface for creative kids.

And a neurotic mother.

I wanted the kids to be inspired in that narrow space.
So we took a trip to Ikea and easily furnished the room with tables,
chairs, bookshelves and an overhead light, all at a reasonable cost
(it's for a good time, not a long time, to quote Kid Shilleen).

And then I really got inspired.

I re-created a Matisse painting, The Wine Press, on the long
wall facing the tables.

I turned the reference image, which I grabbed online, on its side:

and then drew a grid on both the reference image and the
wall in order to scale up the shapes.

Because the room is so narrow, I can't take a good pic of
the entire wall straight on. I think you can get an idea of how
faithful it is to the original by this section:


For the far end, smaller wall, I simply made up a
Matisse-like abstract shape to fill the wall. This is a close up:

Now pulling further back, with the open master bedroom behind me -
again, a wall full of art work, photographs and sentimental souvenirs:

Starting from the back, here is a close up/reverse view
of another one of my favorite pieces -

an original 1940s travel poster, printed in the UK, for South Africa.
I picked it up for a few dollars at a flea market in
Rhode Island over 20 years ago, before the end of apartheid -

It's not in mint condition. There is some visible water damage and staining
through the letters "S" and "A". I'll never forget the look on the
framer's face when I insisted upon having it preserved in a

a high quality frame - she thought I was a fool.
She didn't recognize it's ironic and historic value at the time and
thought the frame was worth 10x more than the poster.
The tables, as in much of African history, have decidedly turned.

Land of Sunshine and Adventure indeed --- the illustration is
beautiful. An "Ndebele Girl", from "Transvaal."

Further on down the line, a quintessential Providence, Rhode Island
poster by the infamous "Mad Peck Studio".
It sums up Providence for just about anyone who has ever lived there.

Here's a special series of captures for my Providence friends who I know read my blog regularly -- each panel is true, no? Literally and metaphorically......

Next up -- a beautiful soft sculpture tapestry, entitled "Selva", or
"Jungle," which I bought in Peru while traveling in the Amazon in the late '80s.
These hand-sewn tapestries were piled waist deep at the outdoor markets,
each depicting a different local scene. I dug deep to find one that
highlighted the Amazon jungle, my favorite.

Here's a close up -

Of course, our children's creations occupy central real estate. I've found
it so hard to pick and choose among favorite pieces
that it's often best to include several in a
collage of art work and photos......

Lastly, another flea market find -- a hand tinted photograph from turn-of-the-century Paris, or so it seems. I dont' know much about this photographer ("Reublinger, Paris") nor this particular subject.

But I thought she was sublime.....

Ok, that about does it, with the exception of our
children's rooms and the loo! I'll respect our kids' privacy
and say only that one bedroom is painted in lime,
the upstairs loo is a deep fuschia, and the other child's bedroom
is painted in a rich coral.
Sort of like these colors:

Hope you've enjoyed this abbreviated tour. I haven't shown you ever nook and cranny nor item hanging on the wall but it's a good representation of how we live.
Back to drawing and painting. I have some lovely sketches I
made in Battery Park this week to share with you........

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Jamaican Easter Bun and Some-Would-Call-It-Cheese

A bredren surprised us early this morning with the delivery of one Jamaican

Easter Bun and the requisite slab of "cheese".

"Happy Easter, Veektoddyah," he said, as he handed over the heavy dark

brick loaf of glistening bun. The surfeit of molasses in your average Easter Bun

gives it a perpetual sheen. Kind of like an oil slick. He then handed over a

half-circle slab of melon-colored cheese, wrapped tightly in saran wrap.

It was a sweet gesture, really, even tho' Easter Bun is not really my cuppa tea,

so to speak. The loaf is much like a traditional North American

Christmas Fruit Cake -- dark and dense, with pieces of minced dried fruit. The

dessert that seemed to show up every holiday but one which I hardly

ever recall seeing anyone eat. It was not unusual for one Fruit Cake to make

multiple appearances over the holidays, being shuttled from one party to the

next. The ultimate culinary re-gift.

But Jamaicans love their Easter Bun. And cheese.

Don't get me wrong. I love Jamaican cooking. Thanks to the King, we have some

variation of Jamaican cuisine 5 days out of every 7. But I draw the line at

traditional Jamaican "cheese." A pale orange, slightly spongey, it is reminiscent

of Velveeta. Or what the government would call "cheese food." It smears nicely

on top of a dense piece of Easter Bun, providing a nice pseudo-dairy

counterpoint to the sweet, syrupy molasses of the bun.

Or so they say.

As for me, I say pass me the manchego with dried fig and a piece of toasted

walnut bread....and whatever you got in your Easter basket, sweetie.

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The Red Stripe will be cold and the Guinness will be hot

As I mentioned in my last post, I will soon be putting up the photos of our wall art and color scheme of the upstairs rooms in our home, but I'm just not happy with the photos I took yet. I need better daylight to take some good pics and the weather didn't cooperate with my schedule this past weekend......so, more painting instead.

I sat down this Sunday to add another painting to my series of Jamaican roadside shops. This one is an amalgam of several places -- it truly exists only on this page. Here's a look at the process: I began with the preliminary drawing, on Arches 140lb cold press paper, using a Rapidograph pen with black India ink. Next up, laying out my watercolors to begin painting the scene. You can see where I began to lay in some color -- the bananas, the sign base - before I realized I wanted to snap a pic of the progress.

I have an array of brushes and bamboo pens. Some are natural which
are more pricey and some are synthetic which are more affordable.
It's not always the most expensive brush which becomes my favorite.
I have filberts, flats, rounds -- all sorts.

I work from several palettes - my triple set is comprised of
Rembrandt watercolors which give great saturated color -

Yes, my palettes are a wreck. I mix colors right on the brush most times,
dipping into several colors with the same brush. Here's my larger palette
(a "Frank Webb" style palette) with my pricier paints (Schminke).
The beauty of this palette is that I've got space around the outside edge to
label each pot with a sharpie on the outside. When the color inside each pot becomes virtually unrecognizable (which is quite often) I know which color it originally contained so I can replenish it.

I began by laying down pale, lighter washes of color all over the page,

knowing that I'd return and build up each area gradually,
from light to dark.

I moved around quite a bit, letting layers dry so I could go back and add
layers of shadow or deepen certain areas with several hues.
I worked on this for several hours (between loads of laundry and preparing breakfast and lunch for everybody, of course).

I'm pleased with the final result.

"Irie Vibes," 14" x 10.25" ink and watercolor on paper

Here's a look at some of the details -

The original painting is for sale here.

A print is available here.

Hope you enjoyed watching this painting come to life -- I can feel that cold Red Stripe in my hand and smell the ocean breeze, how about you?

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