Portrait for the Artist post the Wrong Man

The post office I usually go to in downtown Providence also is used as an extension of the Federal Courthouse. "In light of the events of Sept. 11", all packages that enter this post office must be sent through airport-type scanners before mailing. Then they are given a stamp that lends them an edgy cache — "SCANNED - U.S. Federal Marshalls Department" hand signed and dated. If you want your package to excite anticipation, it's definitely the post office for you.

The downside is that for many years mounted on the wall above the scanning machines amd leering down from their official portraits were the beady eyes Bush and Cheney. Which wasn't the only reason that I looked forward to January 20, 2008, but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't right up there.

It seems like the nation and my post office couldn't wait to take those portraits down, but the new ones took awhile to fill the blank spaces. Today I went to mail a package containing my painting exhibit catalog (the art connection, to distinguish this from a political blog) and looked up to see this. It was worth the wait. No pic of the vice president yet, but I'm Biden my time.

Perhaps someday we'll see the portraits of the former administration on another wall of the post office, next to the bulletin board.

Defending the garage—I mean STUDIO

My husband and I liked the house we ended up buying the minute we saw it. The garage clinched it for me. It's well built and newer than the house, built in 1920, and could hold two cars, IF they were allowed to park in it, which they're not. I immediately claimed it for my painting studio.

Since then I've insulated it, built shelves and installed a propane stove for heat. I left a narrow sliver by the door just wide enough to hold two bikes, a lawnmower and some yard tools. That was IT, my only concession to just how handy it is to store stuff in the garage—I mean STUDIO. Except for that chair that needs to be recovered, and the hose in the winter, but not the lawn chairs! They can either fit in the cellar, or freeze their butts off outside. Snow shovel in the summer? NO! Down cellar it goes. So it's a constant battle.


And it was going so well...I had just cleaned my studio, vowed to get that chair to the upholsterers, and was ready to revel in my space when—the house painter asked so nicely if there was a handy place to store his stuff while he worked on the house. Sure, I said, you can put in in my studio—I mean, the garage.

No room at the inn

This is a watercolor I did one lunchtime of the top of the building which used to house the St. Francis Chapel. It's now a Hampton Inn Hotel.

Lunch sketch

This is a watercolor painting I did at lunch from across the Providence River. I like this little building tucked amongst the skyscrapers.

Chaos Theory

Now that I've sent my painting off to Mesa Verde, I really have no deadline pressure. In some ways it's nice, but in some ways I miss this...


Russia chaos


St. Hugh's chaos


So I guess that's why I pulled apart my studio for a major spring cleaning. It was a good enough substitute for cleaning out the old brain I guess. I pulled everything away from the walls, evicting many species of spiders, but I tried my best not to kill them. (Sorry to the one that I sucked up in the shop vac before I realized what it was. Forgive me spider woman.)

Now I am surrounded by order, and it's a beautiful thing. Time to mess it up again!


I found a great blog ( Out of Character ) to add to my blog list. It's not primarily an art blog, but so funny and real.

The 3rd of July

I live in one of those waterfront neighborhoods in RI that go insane on the 4th of July. It's no use fighting it, you just have to go down to the shore and dodge the fireworks.

For about a week before, these bonfire piles sprout on area beaches. I loved the way this one looked, especially as the tide came in.