Gorilla with Chorus Girl (2007), ink and wash, 10x12in.

Magician (2006), ink, wash and pastel, 8x10in.

Tornado in Brooklyn

Conversation

2010, oil on panel, 12h x 18w in.

Swimsuits

2010, oil on panel, 12h x18w in.

House

2010, oil on panel, 12h x 18w in.

That day

My post from this day last year.  

35 Candles, a 9/11 Memorial. 

Brooklyn Cyclones

My son and I went out to Coney Island last Friday night for a Cyclones game. We got there early, to ride some rides at Luna Park (he's not tall enough for the Cyclone yet, but there are plenty of thrills anyway, including The Tickler, which I would not ride twice!], and dinner on the boardwalk. Above is a shot of the home bullpen. The game and the boardwalk were both pretty sparse for a Friday night, but that's because it was the night that Hurricane Earl was due to arrive. It never did arrive, and it was a nice, breezy night. And the Cyclones won again, having a much better season than the Metropolitans....

If you ever get the chance, it's a great way to spend a summer day, and it's a beautiful venue for baseball, with the beach and the old Parachute Drop just beyond the right field fence....

Windshield

2010, oil on panel, 12Hx18Win.

Bubblicious

Had to improvise some MacGyver skills this morning when my son's new bakugan toy fell into a locked storefront gate.  Chewing gum [selected Bubblicious for its stickiness] and a twisted stick pulled from a fallen tree branch.  Took some doing, and a steady hand, and nerves of steel, and several pieces of bubble gum [yuck, I don't have a taste for that stuff anymore!], but by the mighty beard of Odin, I got that toy back....

Businessman's Special

Have always wanted to get out to Flushing for a weekday afternoon game. Yesterday, my son and I did just that, and Santana threw a complete game. My hopes for the first-ever Met No-Hitter were dashed in the top of the second, but you can't have everything.  The rain held off, my son had cotton candy, I had a Blue Smoke pulled pork sandwich, and we made a visit to the Mets Hall of Fame. A great day for us. 

Posters

The last year or so, I've been hand-painting posters for my day job at the LIU Brooklyn Campus Library Media Center, having fun with some different genres.  Here's the three I've done so far. 

They're all acrylics and cheap poster paints and watercolor on heavy duty contractor's paper.  I found a roll of paper in a dumpster and thought I'd put it to use.  I started with the robot one, which was inspired by an old serial, then the musical one, which was inspired by Busby Berkeley musicals, and the beach one is up now.  That seemed right for summer.  For the fall, I might do something inspired by Pam Grier action movies from the 70's, though I'm not sure about that yet.

And I guess they're all inspired by the posters you see made all around the world, just that kind of handmade, casual, folky appearance.  And they're all the size of a big bulleten board, about four feet tall by six wide.  Approximately. 

happy happy

Busy summer so far, and by far the highlight was my nephew's wedding last Saturday. Long road trip to Ohia, lotsa family, canoe misadventures, blue herons everywhere. Seriously, on the blue herons thing. Anyway, my son was ring bearer, my nephew's two sisters and brother were also in the wedding, and the bride is wonderful. All the best to them, and they know who they are [I don't post names of friends and family here]. And thanks to them, and her family, and my brother and sister in law, for a beautiful weekend.

Snapshot: guy rockin out on the corner

The other day, waiting to cross DeKalb at the corner of Flatbush. There's a guy across the way, holding an iPod in his hand, one ear bud in. He is skinny. Tall and veiny. Oldish, maybe in his fifties. Long, straggly thin whitish hair, with one of those dinky, crescent-shaped kind of cowboy hats. Hair past his shoulders and wispy. Sleeveless, and skinny jeans, white sneakers. He could be Johnny Winter's scarier, less healthy looking uncle. Or some kind of Southern rock cowboy ghost. Not sure he has all his teeth.

And he's rocking out, playing air guitar, and I can see he's singing along but I can't hear above the traffic. He's got kind of awkward, snaky Axl Rose kinds of moves, hopping up and down on the edge of the curb. Really getting into it. There, he's doing a solo. A lip-biting solo. There, a windmill.

To my left, there's a guy on my side of the street. Older black guy. He's got no music as far as I can tell, but he starts dancing and playing air guitar too, looking at the Southern rock cowboy ghost. I'm thinking, "This is getting bizarre."

So the light changes, I step into the crosswalk, and the gaunt Southern rock cowboy ghost guy snakes and gyrates into the crosswalk. He's got his eyes closed, so I can stare at him all I want, and as he gets closer I can hear him singing. He's moving slower now, grooving. An arena ballad? I don't carry a lighter. Anyway, I hear him and this is what he's singing:

"I'm all out of love, I'm so lost without you...."

Air Supply. Okay. Not what I was expecting, but damn, this is part of what makes this a great town. You rock on to Air Supply, Southern rock cowboy ghost guy. (Insert Dio devil horns hand sign here.) You. Rock. On.

First trip to Flushing, 2010

Haven't written much about the Mets here this season, but have been following them as closely as always. Which is to say, "Every freaking day." My son's little league team was part of the pregame parade around the warning track, which was great fun, even if parents weren't allowed to walk down there too.

The Mets are wildly uneven this year, which is to say, "Completely freaking streaky." Approximately twice as better at home vs. on the road. But, maddening as that can be, it is a huge improvement over last season's disaster, and we've been reminded this year just how much fun it can be to watch clean, heads up baseball.

Yesterday, we had seats way up in the left field upper deck. But, it felt fine, and although we'd had a week of the most sweltering and humid days you can imagine in early June, there was at least a breeze and it was mostly overcast. Didn't rain till late in the game, and didn't rain hard till we had to get back to the 7 train.

And we all left with smiles as the Mets completed the sweep of the hated, which is to say, "HATED," Florida Freaking Marlins. What's more, it was a comeback win, in which the Metropolitans trailed by five runs. This year's club is fun to root for, and we had fun yesterday. And we got Mr. Met Beach Towels. Hello, Summertime.....