Kat Powers

Today it seems all the clouds have been captured in anticipation...

Thu, 04 Mar 2010 16:04:45 -0600

Today it seems all the clouds have been captured in anticipation of spring. A gorgeous day!

This painting has been stored in a closet for how many years? I...

Fri, 26 Feb 2010 11:28:57 -0600

This painting has been stored in a closet for how many years? I just found it at my grandmother’s house. I’ve missed you, Eddie.

Today's tribute: Pes!

Wed, 17 Feb 2010 10:54:10 -0600

Today's tribute: Pes!

Bistro photo day! Thus, my first attempt at food photography and...

Tue, 02 Feb 2010 01:05:00 -0600

Bistro photo day! Thus, my first attempt at food photography and another experiment in lighting. The natural early afternoon light is far more pleasurable to work with than the studio lights, which require endless tinkering. More to come at www.bistrocampagne.com.

Today’s progress. 2’5”x3’4”.

Mon, 25 Jan 2010 13:00:07 -0600

Today’s progress. 2’5”x3’4”.

Every night at ten, the wailing could be heard throughout the...

Mon, 25 Jan 2010 11:07:00 -0600

Every night at ten, the wailing could be heard throughout the neighborhood. Janice stood at the back door listening through the cracked windowpane. The backyards of her neighbors were dark and in them nothing moved except the coordinated creaking of swing sets and weather vanes. Janice never knew if anyone else was staring out from the darkened windows or unlit awnings to investigate the sounds, because there weren’t neighborhood gatherings as there had been in the old days, gossip aflutter. Really, it was rare she spoke to anyone at any time, at all.

The wailing. Over a period of several months (seven?), the noises took on accumulating variations of pig grunts, very large trucks choking on the ignition, wisps of sirens calling, horses neighing at their slaughter, though the only logical origin of these sounds could be the wind wrapping through the limbs of trees. At stressful moments, Janice heard what could have been vehicles sliding into each other like bumper cars, or fingernails scratching chalkboards pasted into the sky. On nights when sadness overcame her, the howling of coyotes from the hills and mermaids from the creek masked her tears. A muffled baby’s moan, which sounded sadder than anything she found to mourn in her own life, came warbling over the rooftops to find solace with her. These nightly murmurs always caught Janice off guard, and as they left on a flat note minutes or hours after they came, she would be left crouching at her kitchen sink or at the base of a door frame to wonder at the source and intention of the sound.

In the daytime, Janice moved around the neighborhood suspiciously, giving cars she’d never seen before a long, hard stare, and mothers pushing brand new carriages a thorough examination through her thick glasses. Wobbling ducks were poked or pushed off the sidewalk with her cane.

Her house was across from a dry, weed-infested lot bulldozers had cleared. Builders had laid the foundation for a mini-mansion and then forgotten about it. Years had passed, or maybe they were just long, solitary months of snow and winter, and now waist-high growth had knotted their roots around pillars of rust and rot. Looking out in the other direction, a gentle slope led down to a creek bordering her backyard. Mismatched fences were propped up by misshapen nails and deadwood. There was no one to share the night with, or the day.

Janice would have liked to have started a journal of the progressions of phenomena she witnessed daily, though now it had gone on so long, and so much of it was already forgotten, gone, and each seemed a natural continuation from what had gone on before, she thought it worthless to start now. She couldn’t remember when the conspiracies and coincidences had begun, they’d always been there weaving a tightly woven net around her, diminishing her ability to distinguish between what had happened, what she witnessed, and what existed solely in her mind.

The break-in occurred between the hours of twelve and six a.m., as Janice was sleeping. Normally the screen door was left propped open with a brick, since the hinges had been bent and the screw stripped. That night, though, the winds had been particularly rough and the brick was broken, sending the screen door screeching shut. The impact cracked the glass set into the wooden door (antique, mid-to late 19^th century) and sent shards to shatter into pieces inside, as the inner door opened of its own accord.

The storm gathered momentum and lightning crashed just outside Janice’s bedroom, blowing the window panes open wide. Thunder shook the floorboards, and knocked her water glass to the floor along with her one prized possession, the only fine heirloom she had, a diamond-encrusted wedding band handed down from her mother’s mother’s mother, circa 1825, which slid from its nightly spot on the edge of the nightstand to its hard to reach, never seen again resting place two feet under her bed. She heard it clink into place between a crack in the floorboards, her disbelieving ears in subdued awe. The swirling winds consoled her back to sleep.

Flo McGarrell Interview

Sun, 24 Jan 2010 23:46:00 -0600

Flo McGarrell Interview:

My friend Lacie’s friend Flo passed away in Haiti recently. The author of this article writes beautifully about the work he produces using recycled materials, and illustrates what it was like to live and work in Haiti. What an ingenious, extraordinary fellow! We’re sad to see you go.

Jackie Jones and her Dancing Cat

Fri, 22 Jan 2010 11:28:37 -0600

Jackie Jones and her Dancing Cat:

My friend Christopher’s blog (http://quixoti.cc/) led me to discover this interesting and marvelous woman.

My Friend Sheila's Culinary Blog!

Sun, 17 Jan 2010 23:49:00 -0600

My Friend Sheila's Culinary Blog!:

I am very lucky to know a very lovely lady named Sheila, who spent a month or so in Spain this fall. Here is a link to her adventure blog, which is such a pleasure to read with her amazing writing and photography. Yum!

These are some quick images of things I was working on last week...

Sun, 17 Jan 2010 09:21:00 -0600

These are some quick images of things I was working on last week for the current production at Chicago Shakespeare. Boat puppet is still in the works, hopefully with a magnetic or folding mast so it can snap into place for a moment before it folds down again into the trunk. Fun times!

the true nature of exfoliants

Sun, 17 Jan 2010 09:14:43 -0600

the true nature of exfoliants:

I heard something about this on NPR recently and wanted to share this… The Horror Of Polyethylene! Here is an excerpt:

“Exfoliants: little granules that massage you as you bathe.” He selects a peach-colored tube of St. Ives Apricot Scrub; its label reads: 100% natural exfoliants. “This stuff is okay. The granules are actually chunks of ground-up jojoba seeds and walnut shells.” Other natural brands use grape seeds, apricot hulls, coarse sugar, or sea salt. “The rest of them,” he says, with a sweep of his hand, “have all gone to plastic.”

On each, listed among the ingredients are “micro-fine polyethylene granules,” or “polyethylene micro-spheres,” or “polyethylene beads.” Or just polyethylene.

“Can you believe it?” Richard Thompson demands of no one in particular, loud enough that faces bent over microscopes rise to look at him. “They’re selling plastic meant to go right down the drain, into the sewers, into the rivers, right into the ocean. Bite-sized pieces of plastic to be swallowed by little sea creatures.”

list o' links

Sun, 10 Jan 2010 00:51:00 -0600

list o' links:

Baking blogs are becoming one of my favorite ways to stall the inevitability of sleep. The author of this linked site mentions seven blogs to watch in 2010, and I would also recommend them if you are looking for scone recipes or wondering how some people spend their weekend, which is how I would like to spend mine!

Under a blue moon, we celebrated the last night of 2009. Here is...

Fri, 01 Jan 2010 02:42:00 -0600

Under a blue moon, we celebrated the last night of 2009. Here is what some of the ice and condensation on my windows looked like, and my neighbor’s yard. A wonderful New Year to you!

faux-fir

Wed, 09 Dec 2009 00:26:21 -0600

faux-fir:

i like these very witty, random variations on leaves.

Petunia, Chair Model.

Tue, 08 Dec 2009 11:49:15 -0600

Petunia, Chair Model.

These are three images from the current show at Adventure Stage...

Thu, 03 Dec 2009 23:25:00 -0600

These are three images from the current show at Adventure Stage Chicago, Lois Lowry’s Gossamer. The images feature work by actors Susan Adler, Elizabeth Birkenmeier, Peter Verdico, Alison Latta and Tori Abram-Copenhaver, among several others, lights by Sean Mallary and set by Karen Hoffman. This interpretation of the show was beautifully conceived under the masterful direction of Brian Bell. The last Saturday show is this weekend. RUN!

Next up, The Ghosts of Treasure Island, directed by Amanda Delheimer. Fun times ahead!

my savvy brother michael

Tue, 03 Nov 2009 09:09:28 -0600

my savvy brother michael

I am astounded, awed and amazed. These are images of Violeta...

Sat, 31 Oct 2009 00:38:00 -0500

I am astounded, awed and amazed. These are images of Violeta Luna working the crowd on one of the three main platforms comprising the ever-changing performance piece La Poche Nostra. Talk about involving the audience! I don’t want to give anything away, but let’s just say I laughed, I guffawed, I cringed. It was so great to be at this event at Columbia College tonight, both behind the scenes and out front, amidst peculiar, frightening and engrossing situations. Totally stimulating.

Thanks for taking the last few pictures, Jess. And thank you Lott, for the gig. And thank you, Guillermo, Roberto and Lovely Violeta, for your intensity and dedication. I will be your prop-girl any day.

helnwein

Fri, 23 Oct 2009 02:33:31 -0500

helnwein:

ah… the thought of painting huge, haunting portraits all day… i like that thought.

thank you, sjors vervoort and steven aerts.

Sat, 17 Oct 2009 23:29:00 -0500

thank you, sjors vervoort and steven aerts.